Defining disability is tricky.

U.S. Census Bureau data from 2021 indicates that around 13 percent of the population has a disability. A different estimate, from the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention, suggests up to 27 percent. A third, from a survey of U.S. employers, found that just over 4 percent of employees self-identified as disabled in 2023, considerably less than any other estimate.

Regardless of the statistics, there are countless biotech companies that produce products to treat such disabilities. This industry has brought positive awareness to visible and invisible disabilities alike. From eyesight and hearing loss, to Crohn’s disease, cerebral palsy, and speech disorders — they are working to improve the quality of life for those affected.

They seem to have good intentions. However, good intentions are not always enough, and do not always prevent harmful rhetoric surrounding disability. They can sometimes even enforce it.

The language used by biotech companies to discuss disability and promote their products often imply necessity — that the consumer needs their product in order to better their life. This messaging must go.

A company that produces hearing aids states that their products will open the door for users to create meaningful relationships — as if deaf or hard-of-hearing people could not otherwise. Another company says that it helps people who stutter “get the speech therapy they need.” A 2019 Forbes article calls blindness a “cruel fate,” emphasizing the miracle of new treatments.

But Kimberly Ha, a founder and CEO who also happens to be blind in one eye, finds her disability empowering, laughing off people who say they're sorry about her eyesight. Anita Cawley, a clinical research firm vice president who has cerebral palsy, thinks that her attitude towards her disability has helped her career.

And regardless of whether or not my own stuttering is considered a disability (there have been conversations about what level of severity constitutes a disability), I have never sought out speech therapy or truly wanted it, despite how necessary others believe it is.

There is nothing wrong with wanting assistance through cochlear implants or speech assistant devices. I do not doubt these devices’ value to those who choose them. But when it is implied that change is necessary, disability inherently becomes a flaw.

This mentality speaks to the inability of society to adapt to individual differences more than it does to the needs of the person themselves.

Over the past 50 years, the public’s understanding of disability has shifted. The “social model of disability” grew in prominence, putting forth the idea that disability is created by systemic hurdles and societal exclusion rather than a fault of the person themselves.

Because of growing public acceptance and accommodation of disability — which pushes back against a culture that has long labeled people with disabilities as “other than” — I have been able to regard speech therapy as unnecessary. I am allowed to center my focus on matters I find more pressing, no longer struggling to change myself through therapy that, though helpful for some, did not help me.

It has also allowed countless others to find acceptance within themselves.

I now look at the biotech industry from a different perspective. I am skeptical of advertising and saddened when youth with speech disorders refuse to speak. I find myself wondering if some technologies serve the user or the comfort of those around them more.

I do not intend to imply any moral wrongness in the research or product development of these companies. Many have made important advances and support disability advocacy, as well as offer help to those who want it.

My point is only that we cannot forget “to those who want it” — that the help society offers those with disabilities often creates the impression that they need to be “helped” in the first place.

Every disability is different. Every disability can affect someone in a multitude of ways. Every person with a disability can have a different attitude toward that disability.

While I can not apply my experience to everyone, I can say this: Biotech companies, and those at Harvard who will consider working in the industry, remember that consumers are unique people with unique experiences. Recognize their right to accept themselves as they are, without aid,

and consider consulting with them before your advertisements go public.

Inclusion begins with the wording we choose.

April S. Keyes, a Crimson Editorial editor, is a Chemical and Physical Biology concentrator in Winthrop House.