Do you remember old public buses? Their high steps made getting on and off difficult and, for some people, practically impossible. What might have appeared to be an ordinary feature of a bus was effectively a barrier to social participation. This is an example I frequently use in class to explain how society can disable people.
Fast forward to today: Our buses are much more accessible, reminding us that barriers such as the one mentioned above are neither inevitable nor necessarily permanent. Through policy, investment, planning, and individual and collective behaviour, society can create opportunities and enable participation. But it can also create risks and barriers, some of which may be unintended.
We encounter such social disablers throughout everyday life. Broken or inaccessible pavements, badly positioned signs, potholes, rubbish bags, the odd brick, rogue parking, and poor workmanship can turn a straightforward walk into an obstacle course. Water dripping from air-conditioning units can make pavements slippery. Bus stops may lack adequate shelter. Beaches may lack basic accessible infrastructure. Public conveniences may be unavailable, inaccessible, or poorly maintained. Even at expensive mass events, basic facilities such as toilets can sometimes leave much to be desired.
When we refer to 'society' we can also pinpoint individual and collective behaviour: Excessive noise, revving cars, littering, rowdy behaviour and disregard for other users of public space can make otherwise accessible places uncomfortable, and at times, intimidating. These experiences may affect everyone, but their impact is not necessarily equal. An obstacle that represents a minor inconvenience for one person may effectively exclude an elderly person, someone with a disability, a parent with a pushchair, or somebody with other mobility needs.
Policies themselves can also have unintended consequences. An area may be undergoing regeneration that ultimately improves its infrastructure, while becoming extremely difficult to navigate during months or years of construction. Policymakers therefore need to consider not only intended outcomes but also how transitions and disruptions are actually experienced.
These examples can help us understand why social inclusion should not be understood solely in terms of welfare policy, important as this undoubtedly is. Inclusion is also about everyday participation: whether we can walk safely, commute, use public transport, visit a beach, attend a cultural event, meet family and friends, or simply spend time in a public square without constantly negotiating avoidable hazards.
In turn, this raises questions about governance, particularly in terms of how this is coordinated across different levels and institutions. I am often struck by how broken or inaccessible infrastructure can remain in place for long periods. Do local councils and the respective government authorities have adequate systems for systematically monitoring what is happening on our streets and in our public spaces on a day-to-day basis? Should responsibility depend primarily on residents reporting problems after they encounter them?
One practical response could be systematic, professional on-the-ground monitoring. Local and regional government, together with the relevant national authorities, could employ or engage appropriately qualified people to regularly observe and map the strengths and weaknesses of streets, pavements, squares, transport nodes, recreational areas, and public events. Their role would be to identify enabling and disabling factors, report them to the responsible authorities and follow up whether action is taken.
This should be more than an occasional walkabout or ticking boxes on administrative forms. It requires people with appropriate skills, qualifications and experience. Sociology can contribute through observation, walking methods, stakeholder mapping, and the sociological imagination, alongside expertise in accessibility, planning, disability, engineering, environmental matters, and other relevant fields.
Such on-the-ground research should also observe not only what is present in public space, but who is present and who is absent. Seeing elderly people, children, wheelchair users and people with different abilities comfortably using a place may itself tell us something about its accessibility. Their absence should similarly prompt questions. Is the space accessible? Is there shade? Somewhere to sit? A public toilet? Can people reach it conveniently?
Of course, no society can eliminate every risk, and good public spaces should not become sterile environments devoid of character, spontaneity, or social life. But we can identify avoidable barriers and act upon them.
Michael Briguglio is Associate Professor at the Department of Sociology, Faculty of Arts, University of Malta
www.michaelbriguglio.com