Dusty Wentworth

  Different governments are using different language, but the machinery underneath is becoming remarkably familiar. In Britain, we are told the disability benefits system must become more “affordable”. In America, work requirements are described as “community engagement”. In Australia, tighter control of the National Disability Insurance Scheme is presented as “securing” it for future generations. Different countries. Different slogans. Much the same machinery. Eligibility is narrowed. Assessments become more frequent. Claimants must provide more evidence. Payments are reduced, capped or frozen. Disabled people are divided between a protected minority considered sufficiently severe and everybody else, who must repeatedly prove that their limitations are real. When the same pattern appears across several countries at roughly the same time, dismissing it as coincidence is inadequate. Calling it a single secret global conspiracy would go beyond the evidence. Pretending that these poli...

  Modern masculinity is caught between conflicting messages. At one extreme, men are offered a loud, performative version of manhood built around aggression, dominance, wealth, physical appearance and the need to be seen as powerful. At the other, traditionally masculine qualities are treated with such suspicion that strength is confused with aggression, restraint with emotional repression, authority with oppression and protectiveness with control. Neither extreme offers men, particularly young men, a useful model by which to live. One tells them that manhood must be constantly proved. The other can leave them wondering whether manhood itself is something for which they should apologise. Perhaps that is why an old saying continues to carry so much weight: Manners maketh man. The language belongs to another age. The principle does not. The wisdom behind old words Many traditional sayings contain ideas that remain relevant even when their wording needs updating. “A man’s word is his ...

  There is a contradiction developing around disability. On social media, diagnoses are increasingly displayed as identities. They appear in usernames, biographies, clothing, tattoos and carefully constructed online personas. Some people describe themselves through a medical condition before telling us anything else about who they are. At the same time, those of us living with serious disability repeatedly have to insist that we are more than our diagnoses. We are told not to let disability define us. We are encouraged to work, contribute, remain independent and participate fully in society. Yet the same society places barriers in front of almost every one of those ambitions. That contradiction deserves examination. A diagnosis should explain something, not become everything I understand marking a difficult period of life with a tattoo. I understand wanting something that represents survival, adaptation or personal strength. Illness and disability can divide a life into b...

  When Disability Becomes Content: Who Gets to Tell the Truth? I am not a disability creator. I am a writer who happens to be disabled, lives with chronic illness and pain, and uses a wheelchair. That distinction matters to me. Disability informs much of my writing because it affects almost every area of my life. It influences how I travel, work, spend money, access public spaces and plan even the most ordinary day. But it is not the entirety of who I am, nor do I want everything I produce to be reduced to symptoms, seizures and suffering. My blog allows me to explore the complexity that social media often strips away. It is now read in 47 countries across six continents. My articles have also been published elsewhere, including in The Male Psychology Magazine . That is where I do the heavy lifting. Social media is primarily how I publicise that writing. It also gives me a way to share shorter pieces of honest lived experience, particularly for people trying to understand a new dia...