Come in... if you can get in

Members of Parliament are disproportionately likely to be white, male, middle-class and privately educated. In particular, there is a notable absence of disabled parliamentarians. Ruth Patrick looks at some of the reasons why and what might be done to bring about change

David Blunkett, perhaps the most famous disabled politician of recent years, notes that disabled people ”find themselves badly underrepresented in public life in general and political representation in particular.” This has long been the case and is a much acknowledged feature of the contemporary political landscape. However, there are some positive signs that politicians are looking at how to make parliament more diverse and better representative of society at large. A recent parliamentary committee focused on ways to encourage more disabled people to enter parliament while a new public fund has been announced with a pot of £1m to assist disabled people with the costs and practicalities of forging a political career.

But what is the reality for disabled people working as jobbing politicians, or seeking to make it as an MP? Do they encounter accessible environments, welcoming voters and an enabling political party framework? Or is stigma, physical barriers and institutional obstacles more the order of the day?

In speaking to just some of the current generation of disabled politicians, what has been notable is the diversity of experiences, with examples of both good and appalling practice in evidence. Perhaps unsurprisingly, the most positive accounts emerged from those who have made it and are already sitting as parliamentarians, whether in the Commons or the Lords.

Both Dame Anne Begg MP and Baroness [Jane] Campbell describe how initial fears about the inaccessibility of parliament were somewhat misplaced, with officials taking extra steps to make their workplaces as accessible as possible. Both were provided with rooms close to their respective chambers and given additional resources to meet their particular needs such as fridges for medications, sofas on which to take rests and so on. Baroness Campbell did have a battle to persuade the Lords to allow other peers to read out contributions for her, a request initially refused on the grounds that if she herself did not read the speech it would not be her own. While this battle has now been won, she has a bigger target in her sights.

“No non-peer has ever been allowed in the House of Lords so the change I’m seeking is a big one. As my impairment progresses, there will come a time when I cannot do without my PA at all times. Then they’ll have to decide – either to exclude me from the Chamber or let my PA join me.”

Dame Anne Begg has found the Commons to be accessible, if exhausting, and admits that being an MP is both a full-on and physically taxing job. She describes how she was treated differently when she first entered the Commons as the first wheelchair-using MP: “Initially at least the House always quietened down when I spoke. Perhaps they perceived me as vulnerable as a female, wheelchair-user and so felt the need to award me more respect than that generally shown to fellow MPs. Luckily, it only took two or three years for this to change and MPs to start interrupting me, mid-flow, and shouting at me as I spoke. That’s what I wanted – to be treated the same as everyone else when it came to the debates.”

It is possible that a perception of an inaccessible and unwelcoming parliament is putting off other disabled politicos from trying to enter elected office.

However, unfortunately, it is also the case that there are many disabled people with rather more dispiriting tales of their own attempts to make it as politicians. The most shocking account comes from Marie Pye, a serving Labour councillor who stood for selection as a Labour Party candidate at the last election.

“I think it’s almost impossible to become an MP as a disabled person. You need to get both the political machinery to back you and a majority of local constituency members. Getting constituency members on board means going out and knocking on doors, night after night, month after month. You need to be prepared to stand on people’s doorsteps for half an hour or so, talking through and justifying your politics. That’s just not possible for many people, and certainly although I tried I couldn’t really do it. In my experience, a small minority of local party members were also hostile about my disability. There was a whispering campaign amongst my opponents in the party who said I simply wouldn’t be able to manage as a disabled MP. A rumour even went round that the problems with my spine were due to cancer. Politics can be a very nasty game sometimes. I think my impairment was used as an excuse by those who didn’t want me as their parliamentary candidate.”

While Marie never got the opportunity to stand, up in Scotland Susan Archibald contested Gordon Brown’s old seat as an independent candidate at the last election. Motivated to highlight the inaccessibility of polling booths, Susan paid her £500 deposit and tried to get noticed in a parliamentary system constantly focused on the ‘big three’ – Labour, the Conservatives and Liberal Democrats. Although she was frustrated by the lack of attention that her candidature attracted she’s determined to carry on

“I will stand again and keep trying, just because I’m passionate about what I believe. Until we get more people with individual lived experiences of disability into mainstream politics we will not see much progress towards full equality for all disabled people.”

In trying to untangle why disabled people remain underrepresented in politics, it is important to go back to basics.

In political circles, there is some evidence of enduring stigma and discrimination towards disabled people. As Adam Lotun, representative of the new Democratic Reform Party notes: “I still get the ‘does he take sugar’ line all too often. Unfortunately, it’s much the same in mainstream politics.”

Paul Maynard, a recently elected disabled MP notes that some stigma or prejudice is almost inevitable, observing: “there will always be some who use your condition against you”.

At the same time, there are other issues with political life that are specific to the work of parliamentarians and the activities of getting elected. MPs Dame Anne Begg, Paul Maynard and Baroness Campbell all highlight the cut and thrust of the debating chamber, the physicality of being an MP and the full-on nature of trying to keep on top of an ever increasing workload. This environment is perhaps ill suited to many disabled people, and there are unanswered questions regarding whether more can be done to make the work of an MP accessible to a greater diversity of people.

Kaliya Franklin, co-founder of the online campaign, The Broken of Britain, suggests scope for job-sharing MPs, which might open up a political career to more mothers, disabled people and older people. There is also plenty of potential to make selection procedures for choosing party candidates fairer.

At present, seeking to get elected as an MP or even a councillor demands an exhausting and relentless programme of door-knocking and leafleting; activities that may be simply out of bounds for many disabled people.

Penny Bould, a councillor, describes how she got around this problem by enlisting the services of her boyfriend at the time: “When I had a boyfriend I could at least get him to do the knocking. Men do have their uses, after all!”

Unfortunately, not all disabled people can wheel out a willing partner to assist in these activities. As Marie Pye notes: “This practice of door-knocking tends to exclude older people, mothers and disabled people. Perhaps it’s one reason why there are so many middle-class white MPs.”

Some with political ambitions will always choose to campaign from the outside remembering, as Socialist Worker Party activist Roger Lewis does that, “we didn’t win the vote by voting for it”.

Kaliya Franklin is certainly political, but she chooses to be a disability campaigner rather than a politician per se.

“I’ve got so many skeletons in my closet that I couldn’t possibly consider being an MP, but those with no skeletons are too weird to be politicians in the first place.”

But there should be more disabled people in mainstream politics. We have really important skills and experiences that can contribute to policy development. With the Welfare Reform Bill passing through parliament, we can see the direct results of people shaping policies who have no direct experiences themselves of disability.”

Her view is shared by Baroness Campbell, who concludes: “Members of Parliament need to represent the communities in which they live. Today, we live in a multi-cultural, multi-ability society and our elected politicians need to reflect this. If we want an inclusive society, we need to have an inclusive democratic Chamber.”