Rethinking Disability

The Nuremburg trials was a starting point for my thesis research. It marks the launch of academia when looking at the first considerations of human rights.

As a person with a disability, the trials resonated with me – not merely as a historical event but as social commentary on how society perceives human rights, autonomy, and the value of living a life with disability.

Equally as dense as it is controversial, let’s first lay the groundwork. The Nuremberg medical trials emerged in the wake of World War II, addressing the horrendous medical experiments carried out by Nazi doctors on concentration camp inmates. The trials did more than bring perpetrators to justice; they established fundamental principles now known as the Nuremberg Code, which would guide ethical medical practice.

The cause-and-effect nature of the trials is undeniable. The atrocities committed against individuals with disabilities in Nazi Germany, such as forced sterilisations and euthanasia programs, sparked outrage and highlighted the need for ethical standards in medical research. However, the effect was also profound on how disability is viewed in ethical discourse. One obvious outcome was the call to affirm the sanctity of life. In many ways, this was a necessary reaction to ensure that the humanity of individuals like me was acknowledged, but it also set a concerning precedent: the assumption that disabled lives are less valuable, unless proven otherwise.

The Nuremberg Code established voluntary consent and the right to withdraw from experimentation as key principles. But when I reflect on these ideals, I question their applicability today, where prejudices about disability still linger. For example, within the context of medical research, there are still instances where disabled individuals are treated as if their autonomy is secondary to the perceived benefit of science. Recent studies have shown that disabled participants are often more vulnerable to pressures in research settings, raising a red flag about whether informed consent is genuinely a reality. So, I can’t help but wonder: have we genuinely learned from the past, or simply adjusted the regulations while retaining a worldview that undermines disabled lives?

Additionally, the Nuremberg trials inadvertently highlighted how society often grapples with the balance between scientific progress and human rights. To achieve greater medical advancements, researchers have historically leaned towards the ‘greater good’ philosophy, an approach that can marginalise vulnerable communities, including those of us with disabilities. For me, this brings a sense of unease. The world is quick to advance toward new technologies and scientific solutions, but at what ethical cost? The experiments of the past serve as a warning against letting scientific ambition override respect for individual lives, especially as someone whose sight loss has manifested through a genetic disorder, a rogue segment of DNA failing to fulfil its physiological obligations.

The rise of genetic research and gene-editing technologies is a significant issue. I’ve seen debates ignite around the ethics of altering genes to ‘eliminate’ disabilities such as Down’s Syndrome, Cystic Fibrosis and …sight loss caused by genetic disorders. Eugenics becomes the unavoidable theme we cannot ignore when reflecting on Nuremberg and underpins many of these conversations.

As a disabled individual I realise that the conversation surrounding the Nuremberg trials should serve as a catalyst for ongoing dialogue. We must celebrate strides made in ethical medical practices but remain attentive and critically minded. The legacy of Nuremberg should not simply be reserved to the textbooks of history but should form an integral part to our approaches to medical research, particularly regarding marginalised voices.

In conclusion, to me, the Nuremberg medical trials symbolise more than a cautionary tale; they represent our ongoing struggle against the marginalisation of disabled lives in the pursuit of medical progress. The Nuremberg trials leave a lasting legacy raising topics of consent, autonomy, and respect for all individuals, especially those with disabilities. What we do today will shape how future societies recount our awareness (or our ignorance) of the value of every human life, regardless of ability.