In last week's Metaphysical Milkshake Podcast with Rainn Wilson and Reza Aslan, the hosts ask author Rhett Diessner: What is Beautiful? We examine beauty and bias (i.e. lookism) and the barriers it creates to Independent Living.
Related: 2022 Marks the 50th Anniversary of the Independent Living Movement
What is lookism?
Gaining widespread popularity in the 1970s and 1980s as the country navigated the unintended consequences of weight gain and over-abundance of food, "lookism" was defined as the "construction of a standard for beauty and attractiveness, and judgments made about people on the basis of how well or poorly they meet the standard."
In 2011, Scientific American published a study that concluded human beings determine whether something is beautiful, or, "good" or "bad" based on their current physiological state. In other words, beauty is in the eye of the beholder − depending on their mood.
But dependence on our existing physiological state represents a betrayal of our executive functions. Even Socrates believed beauty was not to be trusted. The City of Troy fell after Paris was overwhelmed by his physiological state of love − had cognitive inhibition won the day, we may have been sparred the 2004 Hollywood adaptation of that story.
So beauty is subjective and heavily based on emotion, but what about the byproduct of beauty? What about bias?
According to Neuroleadership.com, similarity bias "occurs because humans are highly motivated to see themselves and those who are similar in a favorable light. We instinctively create 'ingroups' and 'outgroups' — boundaries between who we consider close to us and who lives on the margins. We generally have a favorable view of our ingroup but a skeptical (or negative) view of the outgroup."
We see beauty in ourselves, value others who are similar, and are skeptical of the rest. Simple enough. Unfortunately, however, this simplicity can lead to detrimental policy for persons with disabilities.
Too terrible a sight for children to see
In 1867 the City of San Francisco introduced the nation's first so-called "ugly law," which was pitched publicly to remove 'certain persons' from public view, namely beggars and those who appeared "insane." In 1881 the City of Chicago followed suit, passing a similar law but including the phrase "disgusting object" which was largely in reference to deformity and unsightliness. Entire states would later adopt similar statutes.
Enforcement of these laws led to the displacement of thousands of people with disabilities throughout the country − in some cases, citizens with disabilities were chased out of town as municipal officials determined that they were "too terrible a sight for children to see."
The nation also began to tinker with the idea of so-called hospital schools (institutions), with some arguing that there were religious reasons for doing so − one theologian wrote that people with disabilities were "innocent victims of parental sin and fate."
"Hospital schools" became asylums, asylums became prisons.
By the late 19h century, "ugliness" as perceived by the ingroup of the time − and in many ways disability − was essentially illegal in the country for those who did not have the financial means to live independently.
Related: A Brief History of the Disability Rights Movement in America.
I don't want those people in my store
About 10 years ago I was working with several colleagues on a project called "Hiring Abilities" in Florida. Essentially, the project was a job fair, with a twist: instead of recruiting employers to run a booth all day (they didn't want to do that), we asked candidates to staff a booth, with resumes, presentations, portfolios, and demonstrations on hand. We called it a "Reverse Job Fair."
Never mind that no one should have to stand at a booth and advertise their skills because employers will not even give them a proper interview − it isn't lost on me, but we wanted to find something that worked.
And it did. When the unconscious biases were removed, when the physiological state of the employers was structured around happiness, inclusion, goodwill, and empathy for all humans − when these employers were forced to speak to the candidates instead swiping left on their application − what they found were people that were more qualified than most, did not need pity, and had the kind of drive most hiring managers only dreamt about.
Which brings me back to the catalyst for this article.
In Rainn and Reza's Metaphysical Milkshake Podcast episode last week "What is Beautiful," Reza jokingly says to Rainn "friends that I have in my life, that I'm closest to [...] if I'm not attracted to them physically [...] they'll never rise to the upper echelon of friends."
What Reza is describing is the "ingroup"/"outgroup" relationship to a T. It's something we are all guilty of, it's biased, it's similarity and safety − it's lookism.
To be fair, the rat-a-tat of the conversation between the two was meant to be light and funny, and it was. But the comment reminded me of one employer who didn't want to show up to our Reverse Job Fair a decade ago. A gentleman we'll call Aliolos, who said to me, and I quote, "I don't want those people in my store."
As terrible as that comment seems, and as upset as I was at the time, our team also understood what we were up against. This manager didn't dislike people with disabilities − and I truly believe that − but they clearly were not part of his "ingroup."
Ultimately he did attend the Hiring Abilities Reverse Job Fair, and even hired several people. As he spent the day with us, at first complaining and questioning why I thought it was so important he was there, staying for lunch, and later speaking with the candidates directly, he found out that he had much more in common with them than he thought. He became one of our star employers actually.
Because of him (and others − there were plenty of fighters), I left that event with the same opinion I hold today. If we can begin to train ourselves, and our organizations and staff (hint, hint − shameless plug), to break the tendency to rely on emotional states that betray our executive functions and stop relying so heavily on the "outgroup"/"ingroup" dynamic so much, we may finally learn to eliminate behaviors that are more about our own fear and understanding and begin to make choices that truly improve both our organizations and the lives of all people.
Related: What NBC's the Office Teaches Us About Autism and Communication
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