Both of these terms are of critical importance to the establishment and enforcement of those rules, regulations, and laws of ours with social justice implications, though one of them often wins out when the other should. The consequences, particularly for members of marginalized segments of the population, can be significant.
The distinction between an end result and the means to that end is pertinent in this case. Equality as a process (“equal treatment,” for example) implies that all of us are treated the same in spite of all the variation humanity embodies. In my view as an autistic self-advocate working to address the barriers that stand in the way of greater happiness, success, and justice for my community, equal treatment endorses a “one size fits all” approach which betrays the reality of neurodiversity and of diversity in all of its forms.
I see equality as the optimal end goal. A level playing field for all of us which, if it were to be attainable, equity, not equality, would be the ideal means of getting us there: fairness, due consideration of our wants and needs as individuals, and actions which know better than to reduce humanity down to the monolith which it is not.
Equal treatment, equal protection, and other manifestations of procedural equality would work out wonderfully if we were all on an equal footing in the first place, if social hierarchies didn’t exist, or if society at large knew better than to discriminate. Hardly the case. The notion of “equal protection under the law,” until I knew to ponder its meaning further, resonated strongly with me as one of the more important provisions of the U.S. Constitution. Today, I view it as a flawed construct, mostly because it has so frequently been denied in practice and because it dismisses the reality that the human population is too diversified for a “one size fits all” approach to be just.
Not that I believe in lawlessness. I simply prefer “equitable protection under the law” over equal protection as the more sensible route. I endorse the abolishment of those rules, regulations, and laws that undermine equity and the replacement of these with others which uphold it.
In my home state of MA, what I view as equitable protection for autistic individuals who drive was recently signed into law. The Massachusetts Blue Envelope Bill requires the MA Registry of Motor Vehicles (RMV) to provide specialized blue envelopes which are intended to ease communications between autistic drivers and law enforcement during traffic stops. These envelopes would hold the driver’s license, registration, insurance card, and emergency contact information, informing the police officer, in straightforward, unambiguous terms, that the driver is autistic. Furthermore, the envelopes show printed guidance as to what the driver and officer can do to facilitate respectful, effective interactions. Appropriately so, participation in the program is voluntary. The autism community is anything but monolithic.
Regrettably, misunderstandings on the part of law enforcement about certain behaviors commonly exhibited by autistic individuals have led to escalation, sometimes with fatal consequences. Less than expected eye contact in an effort to regulate sensory input. Meltdowns resulting from sensory overload. “Fight or flight” responses to increased stress or to confrontational situations. These are wrongly though commonly misinterpreted as suspicious or dangerous, as being indicative of disrespect, disobedience, or defiance, or as attempts at avoiding arrest when, in fact, only innocent intentions are involved.
If, as I believe will be the case, the MA Blue Envelope Program can keep a traffic stop from escalating in the first place, or if it can de-escalate an already tense situation, then the law is a triumph not for equal protection (only a relatively small segment of MA drivers will be given a blue envelope) but for equitable protection which understands that the behavioral tendencies and needs of neurodivergent individuals and those of neurotypical individuals are often two different things. The sky’s the limit in terms of how much emotional unease will be averted and how many innocent lives may be saved.
I am learning-disabled in addition to being autistic. During my high school years, I was acutely aware of the former while falsely believing that I had nothing to do with the latter. The learning disability diagnosis entitled me to a priceless academic accommodation which a policy of “equal treatment” would have denied: an offer to take the Scholastic Aptitude Test (SAT) untimed. In rejecting this accommodation out of an insistence to be evaluated on the same terms as my non-learning-disabled peers, I paid a hefty price in the form of sub-par test results which to this day I view as having betrayed my true academic abilities at the time.
I rushed through the SATs though I could not finish the verbal section once time had expired. Not even close. Too many reading comprehension questions marked wrong because I was unable to get to them. My learning disability is such that I process information slower than most, particularly while reading. Not that I was incapable of understanding. I simply required more time to do so.
Looking back with regret, I can vividly picture an “if only” scenario in which I’m sitting in the exam hall, intensely focused for hours on end and finishing every last question. Time would have no meaning. All that would matter would be completing the SATs to the very best of my ability. That’s how my work ethic typically manifests when I know the stakes are high, though not that day.
My self-inflicted SAT wound is a cautionary tale as to the cost of equity denied. A foolish, impulsive decision on my part. So much for a level playing field for me and for my schoolmates. Instead, I chose to rig the terms of engagement against myself as a disabled individual by saying no to what would have been an invaluable accommodation intended to level that playing field.
A few years later, I would know better. A college student, now wiser and a little more experienced, in need of the same accommodation which nobody else in my class needed, and I ran with it upon being granted it. The feeling was magical. I felt validated, that I mattered, and most grateful to have been afforded the extra time to properly complete several of one of my professor’s exams. She patiently waited around for me to finish up, having generously done so every single instance when the need had arisen. All of my classmates had long since left the building. They were given the time they required and so was I. Equity in practice, yet with an equal outcome for all of us.
Acts of equity entail increased kindness, thoughtfulness, compassion, and empathy in comparison to acts of equality, and therein lies the challenge. The outcomes, however, would more than justify the effort: the removal of barriers which stand in the way of the pursuit of happiness and success for so many; more of us being able to be at our best for ourselves and for others; less untapped human potential; greater social justice; the treatment of people in a way that respects our differing sets of wants and needs.
Equality, in the true sense of the word. Equity-enabled equality!
Sam Farmer is an information technology consultant, advocate for neurodiversity, writer, author, and public speaker. Identified later in life as autistic, he writes articles, records podcasts, and presents at libraries, conferences, and for corporations and autism support organizations, sharing stories of lived experiences and his opinions on a variety of topics of relevance to the neurodiversity and disability communities. “A Long Walk Down a Winding Road – Small Steps, Challenges, & Triumphs Through an Autistic Lens” is his first book. To learn more, visit www.samfarmerauthor.com.
