Scarcity is a founding principle of economics. No matter your age or wealth there can never be more than twenty-four hours in a day. Every human being is, theoretically, limited by that. Time is the most-egalitarian of resources. Unless you’re disabled. Economists seldom consider the plight of the handicapped when formulating their world-shaping theories.
For those of us living with a chronic illness (in my case SMA) even the simplest of tasks take longer. We call it ‘crip time’. Sure, our days contain the same twenty-four hours as the rest of you. But, when an able-bodied person can accomplish an everyday routine—say waking and the normal morning essentials (toileting, dressing, breakfasting, etc.) in quicker order, is it really the same? It takes me, on average an hour and a half, to get through my morning ablutions. (That doesn’t include a shower—which is its own, separate, ordeal.) Compare that with the average citizen who generally accomplishes the same daily routine in half an hour, if not less—and does it without help. I have a paid PSW and an unpaid family member assisting me every morning.
Crip time affects every physical aspect of my life. And I’m not alone. There are millions of disabled Canadians out there. Tasks, simply, take us longer. That’s assuming we’re even capable of completing the effort in the first place. Compared to many disabled, I’m lucky. I can still manage some of life’s routines on my own. Provided sufficient accommodations are made.
Take eating, for example. For many a good meal brings nothing but joy. Unfortunately, it’s not that simple for me. I love to eat but face…challenges. Physical weakness places limits on where, when, and how I dine. I can still feed myself—if my meals are prepared, cut into suitable portions, and delivered to me in an ‘accessible’ location. Even then it is often a slow and often messy process. (In my family I generally start first and finish last, this despite generally consuming the least by a wide margin—not being physically active has reduced my appetite a surprising amount given my ample girth). Even then, I need to avoid certain foods due to the difficulties I have raising cutlery to my mouth (no soup for me!). ‘Fast foods’ aren’t nearly as convenient when you can no longer lift a full hamburger and so need eat them with a knife and fork. Not a big deal, admittedly, but every accommodation takes time…time I could be using for something else. Something more productive.
In modern society success is too often measured by an individual’s bank account. For those few able to see beyond dollars and cents there’s another standard used to weigh a person’s worth: their achievements. Accumulating either is difficult when you operate on crip time.
Economists argue we choose what to do with our time. But I never chose to move slowly. Circumstances beyond my control forced that on me. Saying that my twenty-four hours are the same as an able-bodied person’s is just wrong. Dressing, eating, travelling, working, you name it and I need more time to get the task done. A life of accommodations is a life of delays.
This isn’t just the disabled’s cross to bear. Seniors too face their delays. Arthritis and other age-related illnesses affect their daily lives in much the same way, by rendering many less capable of completing tasks. Physical effort tires the elderly more, necessitating ‘rest breaks’ that can stretch a simple project (like mowing the lawn) into an all-afternoon affair. Did your grandmother choose to have bad joints and struggle to tie her shoes? Did your elderly neighbour choose to have a ‘little lie down’ after shovelling the driveway? Economic theory doesn’t seem to realize the limitations many of us face just going about our days.
According to their logic, billionaires have the same amount of time as the impoverished. But, of course, reality never lives up to academic theories. The rich might not have more time but they can afford to pay people to remove the drudgery from their shoulders.
Before you go envying the privileged elite their copious free time—the hours you spend doing laundry are handled for the wealthy by staff, freeing the well-off to play golf or sleep-in or whatever it is the so-called 1% do with their days—remember how lucky you are. You have a washing machine and drier. Just a couple generations ago laundry required hours of physical labour, scrubbing at a washboard with lye soap, and clotheslines decorated every yard. Time-saving devices make the lives of most average Canadians more comfortable than kings or queens could even imagine a hundred years ago.
Even today, not all time is equal. Some people spend eight hours a day at work, doing back-breaking jobs that barely pay the bills, while others lounge on private beaches and drink fresh-mixed cocktails to while away their lives in luxury. It doesn’t take an economist to explain the unfairness of the division of labour. The reasons for the disparity between rich and poor, leisure-class and labour-class, are many. Structural inequalities like vast inheritances, disproportionate tax breaks, and the less tangible “advantages” of existing wealth (influence, connections, and various -isms—favouritism, cronyism, nepotism) weigh the system in favour of the well-to-do. Add in institutional prejudice, a lack of equal opportunities, and you can see the game is rigged. It’s tough enough to get ahead in this world…those operating on crip time are doomed to forever play catch-up.
Time is not to be wasted. Economists no doubt have a formula explaining its value down to the penny. Too bad their field ignores people like me. Ours is not the most productive use of time. Sure, the disabled take a little longer getting where we’re going, but that’s okay. Life’s not a race and we’ll get there in the end…eventually.