Tag: disabled

  • Why is it so difficult to make reasonable adjustments when assessing disabled PGRs?

    Why is it so difficult to make reasonable adjustments when assessing disabled PGRs?

    Universities are required under the Equality Act 2010 to make reasonable adjustments for disabled students. While it’s often much clearer how to do this for undergraduate students and postgraduate taught students who have coursework and written exams – for example, by giving them extra time or a scribe – support for postgraduate research (PGR) students is far behind.

    Many universities and staff are less clear how to make adjustments for PGRs during supervision, when reading drafts of thesis chapters, and then for the traditional oral viva, which is problematic for many as it relies on instantaneous cognitive processing, fluency and other skills. The Abrahart vs University of Bristol case, in which a student died by suicide after being refused reasonable adjustments to a mode of assessment, highlighted just how critical this issue has become.

    Some universities and academics have expressed concerns that making adjustments for disabled PGR students will somehow “disadvantage” non-disabled students. This misunderstands the provisions of the Equality Act. Reasonable adjustments are a unique legal duty in relation to disability which go some way towards reducing the barriers that disabled people encounter on a daily basis.

    Cultural barriers

    Cultural beliefs – including that PGR study is “supposed to be difficult”, that overcoming the struggle is part of the achievement of obtaining a doctorate, and that adjustments devalue the doctorate – all contribute to unhelpful attitudes towards disabled PGRs and institutions meeting their legal obligations. The still widely held view that a doctorate is training the next generations of academics, limited oversight on progression, lack of consistent training for examiners and supervisors, and the closed-door nature of the viva indicate the cultural nature of many of the barriers.

    The recent work within universities on research culture, equality, diversity and inclusion, and widening participation has in many cases focused on everything other than disability. Where disability is considered, it’s often in relation to neurodivergence. Neurodivergent people may find themselves objects of fascination or considered difficult and a problem to be solved, rarely simply as human beings trying to navigate their way through a society which seems to have suddenly noticed they exist but is still reluctant to make the necessary changes.

    At the PhD viva, often the centring of the examiners’ experience takes priority – rigid arrangements, and the presumed importance of meeting examiners’ expectations, appear very much as priorities, leaving disabled PhD students without a voice or agency or made to feel demanding for simply suggesting they have legal rights which universities must meet.

    Mode of assessment or competence standard?

    The Disabled Students Commitment Competence Standards Guide clarifies that the Equality Act’s reference to the duty to make reasonable adjustments to any provision, criterion or practice (PCP) which places disabled students at a substantial (i.e. more than minor or trivial) disadvantage applies to modes of assessment. It is an indictment of entrenched cultural attitudes in the sector that it took the death of a student after being denied adjustments she was legally entitled to for this distinction to be clarified.

    Many in HE defend the current approach to PhD assessment as being a necessary way of assessing the types of skills a PGR would need as an academic. However, the QAA level 8 descriptors don’t specify a particular mode of assessment, or that the ability to communicate “ideas and conclusion clearly and effectively to specialist and non-specialist audiences” relates to academic contexts either solely or primarily, nor do they specify that assessment relates to whether or not examiners believe the candidate is “ready” for employment as a lecturer.

    The purpose of PhD assessment is to assess whether a candidate meets the assessment criteria to be awarded a doctoral degree. While the question as to whether these level 8 descriptors remain appropriate to assess a PhD may be valid, introducing additional unspoken criteria such as assumptions about academic career readiness is unacceptable for all students, but particularly so for disabled PGRs due to the constant demands on them and cognitive load required to navigate an already unclear system.

    Unhelpfully, the QAA characteristics statement for doctoral degrees asserts that “all doctoral candidates experience a similar format – that is, an assessment of the thesis followed by the closed oral examination.” This could conflict with the legal requirement to adjust assessment for disabled and neurodivergent students, and is despite the Quality Code on Assessment reflecting the importance of inclusive assessment which allows every student to demonstrate their achievements, “with no group or individual disadvantaged”.

    Sharing this reasoning and information is fundamental to changing entrenched and often misunderstandings in the sector about what we’re actually assessing in the PhD viva and how to approach that assessment.

    What needs to be done?

    Making adjustments for individual PGR vivas is time consuming when many adjustments could be made as standard (a “universal design” approach), releasing time to focus on making a smaller number of less commonly required adjustments. Many adjustments are easy to make: holding the viva in a ground floor room, linking to already existing accessibility information, limits on the length of the viva with compulsory breaks, ensuring there are toilets nearby, training for examiners, and options about the viva format.

    While many PGRs are content with the traditional oral viva, others would prefer a written option (for many years the standard option in Australasia) or a hybrid option with written questions in advance of a shorter oral viva. Universities often raise AI assistance as being a reason that an oral viva is necessary. However, this is best addressed through policies, training and declarations of authorship, rather than relying solely on an oral viva.

    Feedback from delegates at a webinar on the topic of inclusive viva which we delivered – hosted by UKCGE – underlined the need for clarity of expectations, standard approaches to adjustments, and training for everyone involved in the PGR journey to understand what the requirements of the Equality Act 2010 are. Adjustments for “visible” disabilities are often easier to understand and make – it would be difficult to deny a deaf PGR a British Sign Language interpreter.

    Where disabilities are less visible, cultural attitudes seem more difficult to shift to make these needed adjustments. Revisions to sector documents, such as the doctoral degrees characteristics statement are also overdue.

    Put simply, it’s not reasonable to deny a student the award of a degree that their research warrants due to an inappropriate mode of assessment.

    The authors would like to thank Charlotte Round, Head of Service for Disability Support at the University of Nottingham, for her involvement.

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  • Why is regulation on disabled students so weak?

    Why is regulation on disabled students so weak?

    When I read university strategies, there tend to be three themes – teaching, research, and that stuff that underpins it.

    If I’m glancing through students’ union strategies, there’s almost always a version of voice, activities/opportunities, and that stuff that underpins it.

    And so it is also the case that when we think about higher education regulation in England, everything from the TEF to the Regulatory Framework tends to have a triangle too – there’s experience, outcomes and that other stuff.

    The problem is that the case of disabled students presents a bit of a problem for the design of the regulation.

    Whatever the current design or theory of change being deployed, the basic question that OfS asks providers to ask is – are disabled students’ outcomes worse than everyone else’s?

    The underpinning theory is that if they are, that’s bound to be because their experience is worse. And if the experience was so poor as to be unlawful, that would definitely show up in outcomes.

    But what if, despite the experience being considerably (and often unlawfully) worse, the outcomes are broadly comparable – or even better? Where does that leave regulation that tends to start with outcomes and work backwards, rather than start with experience and then feed forwards?

    A new brief

    The Office for Students (OfS) has published new research that seems to show that disabled students are increasingly dissatisfied with their university experience even as their degree outcomes improve.

    The regulator has released two documents – a new insight brief examining equality of opportunity for disabled students, and commissioned research from Savanta exploring how 150 students experienced applying for reasonable adjustments.

    The publications come via work from the OfS Disability in Higher Education Advisory Panel, which was established in April 2024 to improve disabled students’ experiences and provide expert guidance.

    The latest data reveals an interesting pattern. For full-time undergraduates with reported disabilities, continuation rates are now 1.1 percentage points higher than for non-disabled peers – and attainment rates are 2.0 percentage points higher. That’s a significant shift from 2019 when disabled students lagged behind on both measures.

    It’s worth saying that, albeit on a smaller N, part-time undergraduates and degree apprentices tell a different story. Part-time disabled students have completion rates 13.0 percentage points lower than their non-disabled peers whilst degree apprentices show a 5.0 percentage point gap in attainment. These gaps suggest that not all disabled students are benefiting equally from institutional support.

    But back on full-time students, when it comes to experience, National Student Survey (NSS) results paint a very different picture. Disabled students consistently report lower satisfaction across all seven themes measured by the survey, and the gaps have grown over the past two years.

    The difference in satisfaction with organisation and management has widened from 6.5 percentage points in 2023 to 7.5 percentage points in 2025. Assessment and feedback satisfaction gaps have grown from 2.5 to 3.7 percentage points over the same period.

    Complaints to the Office of the Independent Adjudicator (OIA) tell a similar story. Disabled students now represent over 40 per cent of OIA complaints, up from around one-third in 2023. More significantly, a higher proportion of disabled students’ complaints are being upheld, suggesting some universities are failing to meet their legal obligations.

    Six years on

    The insight brief isn’t OfS’ first disabled students insight rodeo. 2019’s Insight brief asked whether universities were doing enough for disabled students. It contained a prescient observation:

    “Many disabled students are achieving despite the barriers which remain in their way, not because these barriers have been entirely removed.

    Over time, the disabled student population has grown substantially. In 2017, 13.2 per cent of students reported a disability. By 2023-24, this had risen to 19.9 per cent of full-time undergraduates and 24.6 per cent of part-time undergraduates. Mental health conditions have driven much of this increase, growing from 0.6 per cent of all students in 2010 to representing a significant proportion of disabled students today.

    2019 focused heavily on the social model of disability and questioned whether universities had truly embedded inclusive practices into their institutional structures. It noted that whilst many providers claimed to follow the social model, in practice they still treated disabled students as problems to be solved rather than addressing environmental barriers.

    2025’s brief takes a more pragmatic approach. Rather than debating models of disability, it provides a checklist of specific actions universities should take on experience that draws on the new evidence sources – including workshops with 105 university representatives and the Savanta research to understand both student experiences and institutional challenges.

    You could call it a statement of expectations, although OfS doesn’t quite go that far.

    The Savanta research found that 43 per cent of disabled students had applications for reasonable adjustments fully or partially rejected. Of those students whose needs were not fully met, 91 per cent took further action such as seeking advice or lodging complaints. This level of self-advocacy suggests that students are fighting for support rather than receiving it as a matter of course.

    The research also revealed significant differences between mature and younger students. Mature students were much more likely to take proactive steps when their support was inadequate, with 53 per cent following up or escalating concerns compared with 31 per cent of younger students. Success appears to depend partly on students’ ability to work the system rather than the system working for students.

    Implementation delays are another indicator that students are succeeding despite rather than because of support arrangements. Over half of students who received positive application outcomes waited five weeks or longer for support to be implemented. Students with three or more health conditions faced even longer waits, with 73 per cent waiting five weeks or more for exam adjustments compared with 45 per cent of students with fewer conditions.

    Workshops with university representatives showed that only 15.2 per cent of institutions have established processes for systematically evaluating whether reasonable adjustments are effective. That suggests most universities are not learning from experience or improving their support based on evidence of what works. Students are therefore navigating systems that are not designed to continuously improve.

    And the National Student Survey data on organisation and management is particularly telling. This theme, which includes questions about whether the course is well organised and running smoothly and whether the timetable works efficiently, shows the largest gap between disabled and non-disabled students at 7.5 percentage points. If disabled students are achieving good academic outcomes whilst rating organisational aspects poorly, they must be compensating for institutional failings through extra effort.

    Disabled Students UK’s 2024 research reinforces this picture. It found that only 38 per cent of disabled students who declared their disability reported having the support they need to access studies on equal terms with non-disabled peers. It also noted that most disabled students hold back from raising access issues with their university, suggesting they are managing barriers independently rather than relying on institutional support.

    And the OIA’s annual reports note that disabled students are overrepresented in complaints and that events occurring because a student is disabled are likely to have significant and lasting impacts. The 2024 report specifically highlighted complaints about implementation of support and reasonable adjustments to teaching and assessment. If support systems were working effectively, disabled students wouldn’t need to resort to formal complaints at such high rates.

    The brief reminds readers that the Equality of Opportunity Risk Register now explicitly identifies being disabled as a characteristic indicating risk to student success, and reminds that Access and Participation Plans must address gaps in disabled students’ outcomes with specific targets – and that OfS then monitors progress against these commitments.

    But there’s a problem. Providers would have to pick those risks, and pick disabled students.

    We (don’t) have a plan

    If we look across 99 now published Access and Participation Plans for universities, 27 providers have no disability targets whatsoever across any stage of the student lifecycle including widening access.

    Then if we isolate targets related to experience (ie we ignore access), thirty-five providers have set no targets for disabled students in the continuation, completion, attainment or progression stages. This means over one-third of institutions have no measurable goals for improving outcomes once disabled students arrive on campus.

    Most that do have a target don’t have them in all three of the experience measures. And even those that have targets often have them for a subset of disabled students where the disability type suggests a gap.

    If we assume that providers have been reasonable in not selecting disabled students and/or the risks in the EORR associated with disabled students, it’s a design problem. For a start, when an issue is spread thinly across providers and you have a provider-based regulatory system, you don’t get detailed plans in large parts of the long tail – and so the actions are absent.

    But that’s not the only problem. If we then turn to what providers say they do or are promising to do and look at the aspects of OfS’ checklist that directly relate to student experience, just 39 discuss a process for students to raise issues if support isn’t meeting needs or isn’t implemented properly, and none of the others (working with and listening to disabled students, communication about reasonable adjustments, sharing information about adjustments across the institution and ensuring teaching and assessments are accessible for disabled students while maintaining rigour) go above 60.

    Even then, we tend to see descriptions of existing activity and service provision rather than a new and properly resourced intervention. After all, who’s going to put in their plan that new for this cycle is that provider complying with the law?

    Imagine if the design worked the other way. OfS – as it did with Harassment and Sexual Misconduct (first with a Statement of Expectations, then through a formal Regulatory Condition) – sets out expectations. Then through polling (or ideally, an NSS extension, again a la H&SM) determines whether students are experiencing those expectations. Then it can take both system-wide and provider-level action.

    That – as is also the case with Harassment and Sexual Misconduct – might all lead to better outcomes, it might not. But those design flaws mean that for plans to be made and action to be monitored to secure students’ basic legal rights over their HE, there have to be a decent number of disabled students at their provider, and they have to be failing. If not, no promised action.

    Checklists and ticked boxes

    Overall, we’re left with a checklist – one that represents a pragmatic attempt to provide universities with clear guidance about what they should be doing to support disabled students. The questions about personalisation, implementation, communication, information-sharing, complaints processes, evaluation and accessible assessment all address real problems identified in the research.

    But that checklist’s weaknesses reflect a broader challenge in OfS regulation of experience. The questions are framed as prompts for institutional reflection rather than as requirements with clear standards. That approach may encourage tonal buy-in from universities, but it risks allowing institutions to tick boxes without making meaningful changes. And that’s if they even download the PDF.

    The checklist doesn’t specify what good looks like in any of the areas. It doesn’t set expectations about response times, explain what effective information-sharing systems should include, or define what routine evaluation means in practice. The lack of specificity makes it difficult for institutions to know whether they are meeting expectations, or for OfS to hold them accountable.

    Nor does the checklist address the resource constraints that universities identified as barriers to supporting disabled students effectively. The workshops noted that more students are reporting disabilities, that many have complex support needs and that institutions face staff shortages and stretched budgets.

    Unlike on H&SM – where OfS says “afford this detail or don’t provide HE” – the checklist acknowledges none of the challenges nor provides guidance about how universities should prioritise support when resources are limited.

    As usual on disability, no teeth are being bared here – a list of questions to muse on, rather than requirements to meet, and no consequences for those that fail.

    To be fair, the brief notes that students can make internal complaints, complain to the OIA or take their university to court. But as OfS CEO Susan Lapworth herself said about students in general – let alone disabled students – back in 2019:

    We should… consider whether a model that relies primarily on individual students challenging a provider for a breach of contract places a burden on students in an undesirable way.

    As I say, the checklist is a useful starting point for institutional self-reflection. But without clearer standards, stronger accountability mechanisms and recognition of the resource challenges universities face, it is unlikely to transform disabled students’ experiences, and is more likely to be just another PDF whose link I look up in a few years time in another article like this.

    And crucially, the evidence suggests that plenty of disabled students will continue to succeed despite, rather than because, laws that are supposed to achieve equality.

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  • Welfare reforms will hit disabled students hard

    Welfare reforms will hit disabled students hard

    As political funding decisions continue to pose threats to both the welfare of disabled people and the higher education sector as a whole, disabled students find themselves caught up in a crossfire of financial cuts.

    This was the subject of many coffee-break conversations at this year’s National Association of Disability Practitioners Conference, at which growing concerns around the financial viability of supporting disabled students effectively were shared by a number of specialist staff across the sector.

    As a practitioner, and as a disabled student myself, it’s hard to shake the feeling that current support mechanisms are stretched to their limits. Without urgent investment and reform, it’s disabled students who will continue to bear the brunt.

    Earlier in the year, Jim Dickinson flagged the potential fallout for disabled students arising from reforms to Personal Independence Payment (PIP) proposed in the government’s Pathways to Work Green Paper.

    With over 100 Labour MPs signing an amendment opposing the changes, if rumours about the government’s compromise are to be believed, new students will soon lose out on some of the support that many existing disabled students are entitled to.

    In the months since the reforms were first proposed, I’ve heard from a number of disabled students who shared serious concerns about what these cuts mean for their wellbeing, autonomy, and academic futures.

    “Without PIP, I would have to drop out.”

    That’s what Alex*, a disabled student at the University of Brighton, told me. Alex currently uses their PIP to cover a number of health related costs, from “feeding tube equipment that isn’t covered by the NHS, mobility equipment and repairs, and [support to cover] additional travel costs to get to [their] appointments.”

    Sadly, yet unsurprisingly, considerations of dropping-out of university are not uncommon. Recent data within the Advance HE Student Academic Experience Survey revealed that disabled students are almost twice as likely to have considered quitting, with 83 per cent of disabled students reporting challenges related to the cost-of-living.

    In my day-job, I often encounter the mistaken assumption that Disabled Students’ Allowance has the ability to fill all of the financial gaps that disabled students may face throughout their studies. DSA can act as a vital source of support for study-related costs, but it is not designed to replace social security.

    For many disabled students, Personal Independence Payment is a lifeline for maintaining independence whilst at university. But with persistent delays and restrictions on DSA support and the proposal to restrict PIP even further for young people, many students like Alex are at risk of starting their studies without access to either.

    “I can’t work alongside my course with my health issues…”

    In my own context, full-time students are expected to commit around 50 hours per week to their studies to meet the notional learning hours set by the SCQF. Yet, in the midst of the ongoing cost-of-living crisis, an estimated 68 per cent of undergraduates now work paid jobs alongside full-time study, exposing a continued disconnect between policy expectations and the lived reality of students today. A balancing act of work and study is unsustainable for many, and for disabled students, the pressures are even greater.

    Abi* reflected this in her conversation with me: “I can’t work alongside my course with my health issues […] as student finance is so little, I use my PIP to stay afloat every month,” she says. “I wouldn’t be able to have my car, with my carer driving me – which is the only way I can get out of the house.”

    At last check, Scope estimated that disabled households require an additional £1067 per month to meet basic living costs, as a result of the many financial barriers associated with existing as a disabled person in a society that is not constructed to compensate for a wide variety of access needs. Whilst PIP is not intended as an out-of-work benefit, many disabled students rely on it to fill the gaps left by inadequate financial support. Abi’s experience reflects the additional strain placed on disabled students by the “disability price tag”.

    Accessible accommodation is “more expensive than most private rentals…”

    Systemic barriers were emphasised by a number of the students I spoke with. For Daisy* securing accessible housing has been a particular challenge financially.

    Reflecting on her own living situation, she said: “I live in a very inaccessible city and can only live in university halls,” “it’s more expensive than most private rentals, but there’s no alternative.”

    Back in Brighton, Alex* shared similar concerns: “my only option is to live in university accommodation, which costs significantly more on average than most house shares in my city.”

    These accounts reflect a wider set of structural barriers that have a direct impact on the disabled student experience. Recent data from Disabled Students UK highlighted that affordable, accessible housing is often scarce, with 46 per cent of disabled students reporting that they’ve ended up paying more for housing that met their access needs.

    And housing can’t be considered in isolation – it’s tied to the broader context of inaccessible transport, barriers to timely healthcare, inadequate personal care support, and the high costs associated with assistive equipment.

    When these basic needs go unmet, it becomes significantly harder for disabled students to engage with university life: academically, socially, and beyond. Abi shared this concern, expressing fears that the removal of PIP would prevent her from having a wider student experience: “without my PIP, I wouldn’t be able to do anything extracurricular.”

    If disabled students can’t afford to live independently, how can they fully participate in university life, let alone thrive outside of it?

    “Why can’t they see how hard I’m trying to find work?”

    That’s the question Katie* posed to me when we spoke. Preparing to undertake a PhD in Newcastle, Katie found the transition from university into work daunting and unsupported. “There’s still an expectation that you get your degree, then get a job,” she said. “But there’s very little recognition of how much harder that is for disabled graduates.”

    A recent report from the Shaw Trust highlighted the persistence of the disability employment gap amongst graduates, emphasising that the gap is not about a lack of aspiration, it’s about structural and systemic barriers.

    Katie’s experience reflects a broader trend – while much of the discourse centres around “employability” and economic outcomes, little is said about the lack of disability-informed careers support or the inflexibility of most graduate job opportunities. “Trying to find ‘disability confident’ employers reduces the job pool even further,” she adds. “Half of the jobs which could be hybrid or online aren’t. And trying to find a flexible job that allows time for medical appointments? Nearly impossible.”

    But it isn’t just about work…

    These conversations emphasise access to equitable higher education risks being eroded by benefit restrictions, ongoing delays to DSA support, and widespread cuts to university funding.

    While higher education institutions have made important strides in recent years, through the development of Disabled Student Commitment, and an increased focus on compliance with the Equality Act, service cuts across the sector threaten to undermine that progress.

    According to our research at Disabled Students UK, only 38 per cent of disabled students currently feel that their support needs have been met by their institution. As public funding continues to shrink, many universities are being forced to reassess spending, with many opting to restructure services and streamline provision. But if disabled students are sidelined in these processes, the consequences will be stark.

    In a climate of compounding cuts, institutions must take care to ensure that the interests of disabled students are not excluded from decision-making or deprioritised in budget reviews. Otherwise, we risk further entrenching inequity within a sector that prides itself on widening participation.

    At the heart of all of this is one clear message – disabled students are not asking for luxury. They’re seeking the basic conditions needed to study, participate, and succeed. If we cannot meet even the baseline needs of disabled students, at both an institutional and state level, then we need to seriously question what kind of higher education system we are building, and who it’s truly for.

    Disabled Students UK’s Annual Disabled Student Survey, the largest survey into HE accessibility and the disabled student experience in the UK, is open for responses until the end of July.

     

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  • Disabled students’ rights are still being ignored

    Disabled students’ rights are still being ignored

    In the context of wider financial pressures on providers, universities can be a challenging environment to work in at present.

    So, a crackdown on ensuring all disabled student support plans are both in place and implemented may have fallen to the bottom of the to-do list. Couple that with delays in the Disabled Students’ Allowance system and it’s a pretty bleak picture for disabled students.

    The findings of this year’s Office of the Independent Adjudicator (OIA) annual report echo these concerns.

    Like last year’s report, self-identified disabled students were over-represented in complaints, with the proportion rising for 2024 from a third to just over 40 per cent. Of those who did disclose details of their disability, mental health issues were the largest category selected by students (46 per cent), and specific learning differences accounted for a third.

    A bulk of complaints from students who self-identified as disabled related to support and reasonable adjustments to teaching and assessment not being implemented promptly or at all. This correlates to national trends as shown in Disabled Student UK’s annual survey of 1,200 disabled students across eight UK institutions, where only 39 per cent said they had their support needs implemented.

    Delayed

    OIA make it clear that delays to student support do happen and are not always a serious cause for concern. As they suggest, sometimes it may take a long time to identify what support works best for the student for their course of study, or the process is at a halt because a student’s application for DSA is significantly delayed.

    However, as the annual report highlights:

    there is no culture of accountability in place to ensure that disabled students receive the support that is necessary to place them on an equal footing for success with their peers.

    Additionally, the OIA recommends that providers train and support academic staff in meeting the requirements of the Equality Act, as too often academic staff have not fully understood what is required and, instead, “default to standard [teaching] practices that do not meet disabled students’ needs. As a result disabled students are often left to muddle through at a significant disadvantage to their non-disabled peers.

    Let’s recap

    Last week, the Disabled Students Commission published guidance clarifying the legal responsibilities of providers when it comes to competence standards and reasonable adjustments. Under the Equality Act 2010, providers are accountable for their acts and omissions in relation to disabled students. This includes a duty to make reasonable adjustments to ensure disabled applicants and students do not experience substantial disadvantages in comparison to non-disabled people.

    As the guidance explains, two considerations that should be used in decision-making as to what constitutes reasonable are whether the adjustment is possible and if there is a reasonable assumption that the adjustment might be effective in reducing substantial disadvantage for a disabled student.

    One of these considerations is whether a reasonable adjustment is financially viable. But while institutions must consider the total resource cost, this factor alone, according to the guidance, rarely automatically precludes an adjustment from being reasonable.

    It’s a squeeze

    A real risk here, given current financial circumstances, is that resources for disabled students continue to be squeezed, potentially making it harder to access adequate support.

    While financial strain alone is not a good enough reason not to implement a lawful duty, there is already significant evidence that disabled students’ needs are not currently being met. With a move towards self-service across student-facing roles, it paints an unpromising picture for future support for disabled students, unless something changes sharpish.

    Both the DSC and the OIA urge further signposting around competence standards for students and staff. The annual report suggests that they still instances where there is no clarity for students or staff within course documents about what competence standards will be assessed.

    If a competence standard is not defined, given that they are exempt from the duty to make reasonable adjustments, it is difficult for a provider to decide if a reasonable adjustment requested by a disabled student is, in fact, reasonable.

    Get it right

    Providers need to ensure that accurate information about competence standards and the possibility of reasonable adjustments is made available to both students and staff, including prospective students.

    Providers and individual staff are operating under strain at the moment, but it’s crucial to remember that supporting disabled students is not optional – it is a legal requirement. These aren’t practices and processes that can be prioritised based on finances, it’s a baseline, legal requirement disabled students are entitled to.

    Understandably in the current climate, some may feel resistant to adding additional responsibilities to an already heavy workload, especially as the number of students declaring a disability in recent years has increased. But addressing students’ needs proactively avoids the much greater financial and reputational costs associated with complaints and compensation. If institutions feel they don’t have the time or capacity to prioritise inclusive practices now, they risk spending a greater amount of time, money and resources later managing avoidable grievances.

    And if that isn’t enough, surely disabled students deserve better than having their legal rights to equity perpetually sidelined or ignored.

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  • Supporting disabled women in academia matters. Here’s why

    Supporting disabled women in academia matters. Here’s why

    In March 2024 on International Women’s Day, I launched the Disabled Women in Academia Group.

    It is a sub-group of the National Association of Disabled Staff Networks (NADSN) – for those who identify as a woman (or non-binary) at any career stage and from any area working in universities.

    The group – set up with the support of Jacquie Nicholson and Hamied Haroon, Vice Chair and Chair of NADSN, aims to provide an inclusive space where all women feel they can join if they wish.

    Sessions take place online and each session focuses on a specific topic, or we have a guest speaker.

    I set up the group because I felt there was a gap in the market. While we already had schemes like Aurora and the Women in Academia Support Network, there wasn’t a specific space for disabled women to meet. Data from Advance HE (2024) clearly indicates both women and disabled individuals are underrepresented in senior roles at universities.

    Given this, it is therefore apparent that disabled women are going to be even more underrepresented in these roles.

    Of course, not everyone wishes to hold a senior role in a university, but disabled women deserve the right to thrive as much in the university setting as other groups.

    Leadership and aspiration

    A second reason I wished to set up the group was to enable disabled women to develop a sense that they could be leaders if that’s what they aspired to be.

    There are already leadership schemes like Aurora for women, 100 Black Women Professors NOW by the Women in Higher Education Network, and Calibre, a leadership programme to support disabled staff in higher education and the NHS.

    While this is not a formalised leadership programme or scheme, we do have discussions around leadership and career progression within our sessions. We need to be having these discussions as it is often the case that disabled women are perceived by others as less able due to the ableist nature of academia.

    Jacinda Arden in her role as New Zealand’s Prime Minister redefined what leadership is for women and demonstrated that leaders could have those traits of compassion, show emotion, and remain effective leaders. Such groups like the Disabled Women in Academia Group create that safe space when we are engaging in that process.

    The group has run for a year now and it is one of the things I most enjoy doing. I get to meet lots of different women, and we have built up a real sense of collegiality.

    I have learnt a lot about the challenges we face as disabled women and strategies to address those challenges. I have learnt about the importance of leadership and that the higher education sector needs people to be working together to bring about real change to support students and staff (see NADSN’s RIDE Higher which is developing a framework to support disabled staff in higher education institutions).

    The costs of coordination

    However, this advocacy work, on behalf of ourselves and others carries with it an emotional cost. A colleague mentioned to me a book by Katherine May ‘Wintering: The Power of Rest and Retreat in Uncertain Times’.

    Having a disability or chronic illness can bring with it uncertainty, especially if symptoms are unpredictable or we are awaiting medical treatment.

    During these times we may need to engage in a period of “wintering” – here I am not referring to the actual season of winter – Katherine May uses it as a metaphor and acknowledges we can “winter” anytime, where we focus on ourselves and develop strategies that work for us, replenish our resources and subsequently come out in the spring rejuvenated and ready to face the world again.

    For me, the Disabled Women in Academia Group provides a safe space to do this and fuels my hope of a more equitable environment for disabled women going forward.

    Acknowledgments: Thanks to Jacquie Nicholson and Dr Hamied Haroon for comments on an earlier version and supporting the work of the Disabled Women in Academia Group.

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  • Senate Advances Bill to Ban Corporal Punishment on Disabled Oklahoma Students – The 74

    Senate Advances Bill to Ban Corporal Punishment on Disabled Oklahoma Students – The 74


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    OKLAHOMA CITY – A bill that would ban schools from using corporal punishment on students with disabilities passed the Senate on Tuesday despite concerns it removes local control and could go against parental wishes.

    The state Department of Education has already prohibited the practice, but Senate Bill 364 seeks to codify into state law a ban against deliberately causing pain by using physical discipline on students with federally protected disabilities.

    “I have never, ever, ever met a parent of a disabled child call for the beating of their child to make them better,” said Sen. Dave Rader, R-Tulsa, the author.

    Rader said some of the protected disabilities include deafness, emotional disturbance, intellectual disability, visual impairment or an orthopedic injury.

    It defines corporal punishment as the deliberate infliction of pain by hitting, paddling, spanking, slapping, or any other physical force used as a means of discipline.

    Rader said corporal punishment could not be used by a school even if a parent agreed to it.

    “Perhaps the parent of the child, in most cases, knows best what that child is going to respond to and how the child is going to perform his or her duties in the classroom,” said Sen. Warren Hamilton, R-McCurtain, who voted against the bill.

    A U.S. Supreme Court ruling in 1977 allows corporal punishment usage in schools, but leaves it to states to set their own rules.

    Traditionally, Oklahoma lawmakers have left those decisions to local districts, but the state Department of Education quietly barred the practice on children with disabilities starting in the 2020-21 school year. A 2017 law also prohibits the practice on children with the most “significant cognitive disabilities.”

    During the 2017-18 school year, over 20% of  corporal punishments in Oklahoma schools were administered on disabled children, according to federal statistics.

    Other forms of discipline are available, Rader said. The bill does not prohibit parents from using corporal punishment, Rader said.

    Previous efforts to ban the practice have proven controversial. A similar effort last year cleared the state Senate, but died in the House.

    Sen. Shane Jett, R-Shawnee, said Tuesday that banning the practice in schools amounts to “a top down socialist aligned ideological, unilateral divorce between parents’ ability to collaborate with their local schools to establish a disciplined regimen.”

    He also said it “is a violation of scripture,” and cited Proverbs 22:15 which he said says “folly is bound up in the heart of a child, but the rod of discipline drives it far from him.”

    “There are going to be times when we walk through the valley of the shadow of death, we won’t have to fear evil because your rod and your staff comfort me,” Rader responded.

    Sen. Dusty Deevers, R-Elgin, said there could be negative consequences to removing a partnership between parents and local administrators and forcing the removal of a historically necessary and important disciplinary tool for order.

    “This is not a blanket ban,” Rader said.

    The vote was 31-16.

    The measure moves to the House for possible consideration.

    Oklahoma Voice is part of States Newsroom, a nonprofit news network supported by grants and a coalition of donors as a 501c(3) public charity. Oklahoma Voice maintains editorial independence. Contact Editor Janelle Stecklein for questions: [email protected].


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  • Positive change for disabled researchers might need managing and leading

    Positive change for disabled researchers might need managing and leading

    Among the university initiatives which aim to amplify traditionally marginalised voices, disabled researchers are now throwing their metaphorical hats into the ring.

    I am a member of a disabled researchers’ network and in a recent meeting, the question we asked ourselves were central to the raison d’être of the group.

    How do we position ourselves? How do we manage the strength that comes with having a diverse group, while ensuring that all voices are heard equally? And – perhaps most crucially – what are the positive outcomes towards which we can orientate our group and our activities, within the existing structures?

    Perhaps thinking about this via the lens of the overused yet helpful notion of “leadership and management” could help to clarify the tensions and dichotomies facing disabled students and inform next steps.

    Vital functions

    Leadership and management have separate and “vital functions” within any organisation – management is focused on efficient and reliable operations day-to-day, while leadership drives an organisation into the future.

    These two concepts, so often put together and both crucial for an organisation to flourish, in some ways work against each other – as Professor Tony Bush explains,

    Managerial leadership is focused on managing existing activities successfully rather than visioning a better future.

    “Management” inevitably involves some element of instinctive resistance to change which threatens to destabilise routines and known outcomes. In my experience and from the personal anecdotes of disabled colleagues, it is apparent that we have experienced inflexibility in processes and resistance to adjustments which would have facilitated our research activities.

    Maybe at least some of this resistance comes from a fear that equilibrium would be disrupted; giving the benefit of the doubt seems helpful in avoiding the “us” and “them” stance which is an obstacle to positive collaboration and moving beyond the past to the desired future.

    The reality is that this is difficult to navigate. When our voice is an unexpected interruption, when the thorny issue of inclusive practices is raised, relationships can be affected. How can we lead the research environment within HE towards being more truly inclusive without ruffling too many feathers?

    Leadership demands the flexibility to move towards future aims, or in the words of Roselinde Torres, being:

    …courageous enough to abandon a practice that has made you successful in the past.

    While we might not want the HE sector to “abandon” all current practices, it is apparent that change is needed to ensure true equality of access and opportunity. A model of “success” which marginalises disabled researchers is not true success; our argument is difficult to refute, and I’m sure nobody would openly do so.

    However, agreement in principle is not the same as action in practice.

    Fine by me

    Everyone readily agrees with the idea of an inclusive research environment; but not everyone is proactively engaged in making this a reality, particularly when it disrupts the status quo.

    Perhaps the crucial difference in perspective between the manager and the leader is that of immediate deliverables versus long-term strategic outcomes; and perhaps this can be used to consider the collective in the wider context of the university.

    As disabled researchers, we are our own “leaders”; a label we may not seek out or desire, but which nonetheless can be seen in our daily activities, thought processes and planning.

    We have to think ahead, mitigating barriers which non-disabled researchers simply do not have to navigate; and this difference is nobody’s fault, but it is useful to be aware of it in this discussion. This art of looking ahead is identified by Torres as one of the necessary traits for effective leadership; she explains:

    “Great leaders are not head-down. They see around corners, shaping their future, not just reacting to it.

    My point isn’t to suggest that disabled researchers are somehow better leaders than their non- disabled colleagues; but we have developed certain characteristics out of sheer necessity. As disabled researchers, indeed disabled individuals, we have to “lead” from the outset to overcome the barriers which are our daily reality.

    Encountering barriers

    We may face the uncertainty which comes with managing a chronic, long-term condition which dictates whether we are well enough to work on a specific date, at a specific time, and over which we have no control. For me, my modus operandi is to work ahead of every deadline – often perceived as being over-competitive – because I know that I may suddenly be forced into a work hiatus which, without this buffer, would put me behind.

    We may encounter access issues – workspaces, and transport to those workspaces, which do not meet our most basic needs. Physical barriers – often assumed to be the most readily addressed – still exist. We may need to call ahead to ensure that we can simply get into the room – let alone have a seat at the table. In 2024, it feels like we should be further along than this.

    As disabled researchers, in work and in life, we are in strategy mode constantly; looking ahead around every corner; planning for the next barrier we need to demolish if we are to continue moving forward.

    We are forced to strategize – even when we don’t want to. Therein, perhaps, lies the rub.

    Because we are proactive in reducing our barriers, we have an expectation or at the very least a hope that our colleagues, managers and in the broadest sense our employers will adopt the same stance.

    When this is reduced to box-ticking exercises rather than a meaningful, consultative approach, this damages morale. When we must ask for adjustments – sometimes more than once – resentment builds; and if adjustments are promised then not delivered, relationships can suffer irrevocable damage.

    We lead because we have to

    Yet we continue to “lead” on this out of necessity; our voices are loudest on these issues for the simple reason that it impacts us the most, especially when organisations don’t get it right. From the discussions we’ve had within our network, I know that this can be a lonely experience, with researchers feeling marginalised, unable to voice their concerns to a listening ear, and finding that speaking out can result in feeling left out.

    So how can we move collectively towards change? Perhaps we can take inspiration from the eight-step change model proposed by leading business consultant John Kotter. Here, a structured approach is described which will move a workforce collectively towards change.

    Perhaps one of the most useful elements of Kotter’s framework is Step 2: “Build a guiding coalition”. What does this mean? It means that individuals of influence and power within an organisation need to be involved in change, or it may be rejected. This is a viable model: disabled researchers partnering with stakeholders across the sector to promote our vision of a fairer, more equitable research environment where lived experience is valued and the need for a continuous programme of improvement is recognised.

    When all is said and done, this isn’t really a radical proposition. There are outcomes we want to achieve, and we need partners to achieve them. We need our voice to be heard at a strategic level. We need champions for inclusion to be nominated across the HE sectors, with a clear remit to work with disabled researchers to enact meaningful change. Activism isn’t incompatible with collaborative working any more than research is.

    Both activism and research address a need, a gap in knowledge, a difficult dilemma, or an important issue, and ask the question: how can we do better, and why aren’t we doing better? This then leads to the next research question…and the next… and the next… and so ad infinitum.

    There is no limit to how much we can learn or improve, and there should be no end to our willingness to keep learning and improving. This is surely integral to the whole ethos of higher education. We need to have open communication; create opportunities for conversations which might be challenging; and cultivate curiosity about how we can better understand one another and facilitate inclusive working environments.

    Even in the most highly competitive business arenas, research has shown that a work culture which prioritises “psychological safety” – an environment where individuals feel secure enough to share their perspectives, both positive and negative – is the gold standard for employee productivity and happiness at work.

    A recent study involving the work-life balance and happiness of women working in the financial sector concluded that:

    …having diverse teams that can be honest allows for better outcomes.

    At the heart of the change we are seeking is simply the opportunity to be honest in an environment which encourages this. So let’s blur the boundary between leadership and management; let’s have honest, if sometimes challenging, conversations; and let’s embark on this journey together.

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