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Changing Social Attitudes
Toward Disability

Whilst legislation may have progressed internationally and nationally for disabled
people, barriers continue to exist, of which one of the most pervasive and ingrained
is attitudinal. Social attitudes are often rooted in a lack of knowledge and are
perpetuated through erroneous stereotypes, and ultimately these legal and policy
changes are ineffectual without a corresponding attitudinal change.
This unique book provides a much needed, multifaceted exploration of changing
social attitudes toward disability. Adopting a tripartite approach to examining
disability, the book looks at historical, cultural, and education studies, broadly
conceived, in order to provide a multidisciplinary and interdisciplinary approach to
the documentation and endorsement of changing social attitudes toward disability.
Written by a selection of established and emerging scholars in the eld, the book
aims to break down some of the unhelpful boundaries between disciplines so that
disability is recognised as an issue for all of us across all aspects of society, and to
encourage readers to recognise disability in all its forms and within all its contexts.
This truly multidimensional approach to changing social attitudes will be
important reading for students and researchers of disability from education,
cultural, and disability studies, and all those interested in the questions and issues
surrounding attitudes toward disability.

David Bolt is Director of the Centre for Culture & Disability Studies, Liverpool
Hope University, UK. He is a co-editor of the book series Literary Disability
Studies, founder of the International Network of Literary & Cultural Disability
Scholars and Editor-in-Chief of the Journal of Literary & Cultural Disability
Studies. He is also co-editor of the book The Madwoman and the Blindman (The
Ohio State University Press) and author of The Metanarrative of Blindness
(University of Michigan Press). Dr Bolt is an editorial board member of both
Disability & Society and the Journal of Visual Impairment & Blindness.
Routledge Advances in Disability Studies

New titles

Towards a Contextual Psychology of Disablism

Brian Watermeyer

Disability, Hate Crime and Violence

Edited by Alan Roulstone and Hannah Mason-Bish

Branding and Designing Disability

Reconceptualising Disability Studies
Elizabeth DePoy and Stephen Gilson

Crises, Conict and Disability

Ensuring Equality
Edited by David Mitchell and Valerie Karr

Disability, Spaces and Places of Policy Exclusion

Edited by Karen Soldatic, Hannah Morgan and Alan Roulstone

Changing Social Attitudes Toward Disability

Perspectives from historical, cultural, and educational studies
Edited by David Bolt

Forthcoming titles

Intellectual Disability and Social Theory

Philosophical Debates on Being Human
Chrissie Rogers

Disabled Childhoods
Monitoring Differences and Emerging Identities
Janice McLaughlin, Emma Clavering and Edmund Coleman-Fountain
Changing Social Attitudes
Toward Disability
Perspectives from historical, cultural,
and educational studies

Edited by David Bolt

ROUTLEDGE

Routledge
Taylor & Francis Group
LONDON AND NEW YORK
First published 2014
by Routledge
2 Park Square, Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon, OX14 4RN
and by Routledge
711 Third Avenue, New York, NY 10017
Routledge is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group, an informa
business
© 2014 selection and editorial material, David Bolt; individual chapters,
the contributors
The right of the editor to be identied as the author of the editorial
material, and of the authors for their individual chapters, has been asserted
in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and
Patents Act 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or
utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now
known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in
any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing
from the publishers.
Trademark notice: Product or corporate names may be trademarks or
registered trademarks, and are used only for identication and explanation
without intent to infringe.

British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data

A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library
Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data
Bolt, David, 1966-
Changing social attitudes toward disability : perspectives from historical,
cultural, and educational studies / edited by David Bolt.
pages cm. -- (Routledge advances in disability studies)
1. People with disabilities--Public opinion. 2. People with disabilities in
mass media. 3. Sociology of disability. I. Title.
HV1568.B66 2014
305.9⬘08--dc23
2014000460

ISBN: 978-0-415-73249-9 (hbk)

ISBN: 978-0-415-73249-9 (ebk)

Typeset in Times
by Saxon Graphics Ltd, Derby
Contents

Acknowledgements viii

Introduction 1
DAVID BOLT

PART I
Disability, attitudes, and history 13

1 Evolution and human uniqueness: prehistory, disability,

and the unexpected anthropology of Charles Darwin 15
DAVID DOAT

2 Killer consumptive in the Wild West: the posthumous

decline of Doc Holliday 26
A L E X T A N K A RD

3 ‘Beings in another galaxy’: historians, the Nazi ‘euthanasia’

programme, and the question of opposition 38
E M M E L I N E B URDE T T

4 Disability and photojournalism in the age of the image 50

ALICE HALL

5 Mental disability and rhetoricity retold: the memoir on drugs 60

C A T H E R I N E P RE NDE RGAS T
vi Contents
PART II
Disability, attitudes, and culture 69

6 The ‘hunchback’: across cultures and time 71

TOM COOGAN

7 Altered men: war, body trauma, and the origins of the

cyborg soldier in American science ction 80
SUE SMITH

8 The cultural work of disability and illness memoirs:

schizophrenia as collaborative life narrative 89
S T E L L A B O L AKI

9 Impaired or empowered? Mapping disability onto

European literature 99
P A U L I N E E Y RE

10 The supremacy of sight: aesthetics, representations,

and attitudes 109
DAVID BOLT

PART III
Disability, attitudes, and education 119

11 Ethnic cleansing? Disability and the colonisation of

the intranet 121
A L A N H O D K I NS ON

12 Creative subjects? Critically documenting art education

and disability 132
C L A I R E P E N KE T H

13 Dysrationalia: an institutional learning disability? 142

OWEN BARDEN

14 ‘Lexism’ and the temporal problem of dening ‘dyslexia’ 153

C R A I G C O L L I NS ON
 Contents vii
15 Behaviour, emotion, and social attitudes: the education of
‘challenging’ pupils 162
MARIE CASLIN

Epilogue: attitudes and actions 172

DAVID BOLT

Contributors 176
Index 178
Acknowledgements

I rst had the idea for a culturally focused disability studies centre when I was
Honorary Research Fellow at the Centre for Disability Research at the University
of Lancaster. The idea grew from correspondence with editorial board members
of the Journal of Literary and Cultural Disability Studies (JLCDS) and
conversations with Clare Barker, Lucy Burke, Lennard Davis, Dan Goodley,
Petra Kuppers, Rebecca Mallet, Robert McRuer, Claire Molloy, Stuart Murray,
Irene Rose, and Carol Thomas.
Thanks to the support and guidance of Ria Cheyne, Peter Clough, Tom Coogan,
Heather Cunningham, Ann-Marie Jones, Shirley Potts, and Laura Waite, as well as
Tony Edwards, Bart McGettrick, Kenneth Newport, Gerald Pillay, and June
Wilson, the idea was put into practice soon after I started working at Liverpool
Hope University and founded the Centre for Culture and Disability Studies (CCDS).
As Director of the CCDS I have organised and chaired a series of seminars on
which this book is based. I am therefore indebted to everyone who has attended
and endorsed the series, from my introductory seminar to the rst special guest
session with Liz Crow, from the work on attitudes to the current work on voice. I
am grateful, too, to James Watson for recognising this work and encouraging me
to submit a book proposal to his excellent series.
Half a decade on from starting in my current post, I have also come to rely on my
newer Liverpool Hope University colleagues Owen Barden, Marie Caslin, Jessica
Chong, Alan Hodkinson, and Claire Penketh – as well as my support worker Philippa
Leddra and other supportive colleagues such as Karen Doyle, Siobhan Garber, Marc
Jones, Eileen Kavanagh, Chris Lowry, Jacqueline Lloyd, and Christine Parry.
As editor of the book I must thank everyone from whom I have received advice,
example, and encouragement on how to go about such work. Tammy Berberi,
James Berger, Brenda Jo Brueggemann, Johnson Cheu, Simone Chess, Helen
Deutsch, Jim Ferris, Anne Finger, Maria Frawley, Chris Gabbard, Martin
Halliwell, Diane Price Herndl, Martha Stoddard Holmes, Richard Ingram, Alison
Kafer, Deborah Kent, Georgina Kleege, Fiona Kumari Campbell, Miriamne Ara
Krummel, Stephen Kuusisto, Madonne Miner, David Mitchell, Mark Mossman,
Felicity Nussbaum, James Overboe, Ato Quayson, Carrie Sandahl, Susan
Schweik, David Serlin, Sharon Snyder, Anne Waldschmidt, and the rest of the
JLCDS editorial board must all be thanked for their general help.
 Acknowledgements ix
I have also learned much about editing from everyone involved in the Literary
Disability Studies book series, especially my co-editors, Elizabeth Donaldson and
Julia Miele Rodas, and the editorial board members, Michael Bérubé, G. Thomas
Couser, Michael Davidson, Rosemarie Garland-Thomson, Cynthia Lewiecki-
Wilson, and Tobin Siebers.
Many of these colleagues have become friends and I am lucky, too, to have
somehow sustained friendships since childhood. Peter Bagnall and David Cuddy
continue to tolerate my eeting visits to Newcastle Under Lyme, but never fail to
please me with their lager-fuelled, joyous company.
All my family should be thanked, but especially my mum, dad, brother Stephen,
sister-in-law Gerry, and above all, my daughter Nisha.
Finally, in everything I do I am thankful for the love of my partner, Heidi.
This page intentionally left blank
 Introduction
Perspectives from historical,
cultural, and educational studies
David Bolt

Often contrasted with actions, attitudes are sometimes in danger of being

underestimated, deemed relatively harmless. Actions speak louder than words, or
so the saying goes, and attitudes tend to be aligned with words more than with
actions. But the fact is that attitudes and actions – not to mention words – are
intrinsically connected. Problematic social attitudes toward disability, therefore,
must be challenged and changed before related actions can become meaningful.
For example, in the United Kingdom, those of us who use guide dogs for mobility
are well aware that there is now legislation against restaurateurs who refuse our
custom, but this does not mark the end of us being made to feel unwelcome in
restaurants that are owned or managed by people who have disabling attitudes.
Unfortunately, comparable scenarios may be put forward by those of us who have
diagnostic labels that pertain to sensory, cognitive, physical, mental, learning,
and/or mobility impairments, and may relate to education, leisure, accommodation,
employment, and so on. These recurrent scenarios are underpinned by attitudinal
barriers and epitomise the anomalous practice to which I return later. The fact is
that, although things are slowly changing (Shakespeare, 2006), for centuries,
people have been subjected to disabling attitudes, resulting in discrimination and
other prejudiced actions, the endeavour to address which has involved the
employment of strategies that pertain not only to policy and legislation, but also
to language, culture, and education (Isaac et al., 2010; Harpur, 2012). All of these
things are explored in this introductory chapter, which provides a brief literature
review of work on social attitudes toward disability from the past few decades and
culminates in an overview of the book.

Researching disability
Since the early days of disability studies, some of the most eminent gures in the
eld have problematised the very nature of disability research. The primary concern
was that prevalent attitudes toward disability may well have been uncovered as a
result of research or social analysis, but those who carried out such work thereby
participated in the disabling social relationship (Finkelstein, 1980). Most obviously,
2 David Bolt
researchers who adopted a deciency perspective were likely to render disability as
individual limitations or incompetence (Harrison, 1995). In these terms, knowledge
about social attitudes toward disability could not be separated from the conditions
in which it was gathered (Finkelstein, 1980). Any such research, moreover, was
said to have little inuence on policy and to make no contribution to improving the
lives of people who were disabled (Oliver, 1992). Disability research was deemed
at best irrelevant and at worst part of the social problem, contributing, as it did, to
an environment increasingly identied as disabling.
Thankfully, some of these issues were addressed by methodological diversity.
Before the 1990s, usually based on quantitative empirical studies, researchers
who took various theoretical approaches assumed that attitudes toward disability
were pejorative and prejudiced. This was the premise of a review that argued that
much attitudinal research was based on a simplied if not simplistic notion of both
attitudes and methodology (Söder, 1990). These limitations notwithstanding, an
interpretation was posited that moved away from prejudice and toward
ambivalence, whereby attitudes were explained as a result of conicting values
that were widely shared in culture (Söder, 1990). The aim was to problematise the
supposed stability and individuality of attitudes and trace the link with societal
ideologies. Moreover, although a tradition in social psychology had been to use
rating scales, it was subsequently suggested that qualitative research methodology
would give a richer, more rounded account of attitudes toward disability (Deal,
2003). These studies resonated with the British social model of disability insofar
as they helped to recognise environmental rather than individual locations of
disabling attitudes. Indeed, the growing appreciation of the radical social model in
the 1990s had a signicant impact on researchers who, rather than following the
interests of politicians, policy makers, and professional academics, began to
pursue an emancipatory disability research agenda (Barnes, 2003). Contrary to the
primary concern about disability research, the contention was that, when directly
linked to the on-going struggle for change, emancipatory work would inuence
policy and thus contribute to improving the lives of people who were disabled.
Though variously addressed in the past few decades, the problematics of
disability research have not yet been eliminated. In the United Kingdom, due to a
lack of robust evidence and effective survey research methodologies, the agenda
of social justice for people who are disabled remains far from satisfactory (Purdam
et al., 2008). In the United States, there is a growing use of what we may think of
as concerning methodologies – namely, participatory research, client-based
research, community consultation, and so on (Snyder and Mitchell, 2006).
Reminiscent of the primary concerns about disability research, the worry about
these methodologies is that we risk reproducing something of the very structure
that disability studies is meant to challenge. The present book, therefore, accords
with the contention that textual analysis provides a remedy to the exhaustion of
people-based research (Snyder and Mitchell, 2006). The rationale is that,
exhausting only the researcher, this kind of work provides close and revealing
readings of cultural texts that are products of the society that has been recognised
as disabling. That is to say, representational methodologies offer a way of
 Introduction 3
exploring social attitudes toward disability without contributing to the ableism
and disablism at their very core.

Ableism and disablism

As a result of research on disability in the United Kingdom, it has been suggested
that the development of a common language with which people who are disabled
and people who are not disabled can discuss issues around impairment, disability,
and exclusion is a prerequisite for any practical work on changing attitudes
(Tregaskis, 2000). In this vein I must refer us to two important terms that are used
in the present book. First, dened as a political term used by people who are
disabled to call attention to assumptions about normalcy (Davis, 1995), ableism is
adopted by a number of academics in the west (Campbell, 2008; Bolt et al., 2012;
Harpur, 2012). Second, on a par with sexism, racism, and homophobia (Thomas,
2004), disablism is used by some people to denote issues of exclusion (Deal,
2007; Madriaga, 2007). These critical concepts may be thought of as two sides of
the same ideological coin: ableism renders people who are not disabled as
supreme; disablism refers to attitudes and actions against people who are disabled.
In other words, ableism is to disablism what patriarchy is to misogyny.
Here, we can barely begin to explore the many and varied ways in which
ableism and disablism are institutionalised. Most obviously, language is a
fundamental aspect of the culture by which society is dened. So if we analyse
terminology, we learn much about changing social attitudes. For example, the
journal we now all know as Disability and Society was rst published, in 1986,
under the title Disability, Handicap and Society. The titular modication was
made in 1993 and as such was indicative of attitudinal change that had been
documented within the rst decade of production. An empirical study found that
the term learning difculties was associated with more positive attitudes than
mentally handicapped; that there were no signicant differences between the
terms mentally handicapped and mentally subnormal; and that discovering that
new neighbours had learning difculties would have led to a greater level of
acceptance than if they were termed mental subnormals (Eayrs et al., 1993). The
implication of this kind of work is that changing the ways in which language and
culture construct disability should be regarded as a weapon in the battle for
equality (Harpur, 2012), that changes in social attitudes can be initiated by
terminological modication.
But in the late twentieth century the usefulness of this linguistic weaponry was
sometimes questioned. There was doubt that new terminology could be effective
until positive attitudes had improved, for without that change the prejudicial
meanings would have become reattached to the liberalised vocabulary (Kirtley,
1975). In fact, an exploration of cross-cultural and historical attitudes toward
learning difculties in Pakistan noted that even where terminology had changed
and been made `non-discriminatory’, the attitudes underlying earlier terms
surfaced in stigmatising or patronising behaviour (Miles, 1992). These ndings
clearly problematise the idea that changes in terminology can facilitate changes in
4 David Bolt
attitudes but, judging by a number of probing works (Barnes, 1993; Oliver, 1996;
Lunsford, 2006; Rodas, 2009; Vidali, 2010; Bolt, 2014), this is not a dominant
criticism within disability studies.
If there is general agreement that the development of language is a prerequisite
for changing social attitudes, there is less on precisely what terms are preferable –
as is demonstrable in the present book. In the United States and Canada, among
other places, the term people with disabilities is often endorsed as part of a person-
rst response to social attitudes that dene someone by her or his impairment
(Shakespeare, 2006). However, such references to people with disabilities are
problematic for proponents of the British social model, whereby the person may be
impaired but it is only by society that he or she becomes disabled (Barnes and
Mercer, 2003; Shakespeare, 2006). Indeed, there are mixed feelings globally about
usage of the very word disability. For instance, in India, the term inconvenience has
been used to reduce the negative attitudes that are attached to impairment and
disability (Rao, 2001); while in Japan, past terminology has been recognised as
discriminatory and has given way to equivalents of English terms that refer to
handicap and disability (Valentine, 2002). The trouble is that the language we use
is fundamentally ableist, if not disablist, for the terms impairment and disability
denote decit in spite of new meanings dened by activists and academics.
This issue may be illustrated with reference to what, in accordance with the
preferred language of self-advocacy in the United Kingdom (Nunkoosing and
Haydon-Laurelut, 2011), many of us have come to call learning difculties. In
some quarters, this term, like mental handicap, intellectual disability, intellectual
impairment, and so on, has been superseded by learning disability. Certainly, if
we consider the usage of these terms in Disability and Society, learning disability
is now the most frequent, having more than doubled since the turn of the century,
while mental handicap has quartered. However, though often adopted as the
choice of professionals (Nunkoosing and Haydon-Laurelut, 2011), the term
learning disability remains problematic insofar as many people to whom it is
attached do not identify as disabled (Inglis, 2013). That is to say, contrary to the
ethos of disability pride (Harrison, 1995), for many people the very ascription of
the term learning disabled constitutes disablism.
Though fundamental, language is only one aspect of the culture by which society
is dened. With reference to advertising, for example, the link between attitudes
and societal ideologies has been identied by a number of researchers (Hunt, 1966;
Brolley and Anderson, 1986; Barnes, 1991; Panol and McBride, 2001). In one
study, in order to expand on the hypothesis that attitudes toward people with
learning difculties were negatively inuenced by charity advertisements,
researchers showed a group of school children two MENCAP posters: one from the
1980s, the other from the 1990s (Doddington et al., 1994). The children who saw
the older poster – which was printed in black and white and contrasted the prospects
of two boys by asserting that one was going to university, while the other was
going nowhere – were more likely to report that it made them feel pity and guilt,
and less likely to agree that people with learning difculties were able to care for
themselves. Notably, on seeing this much-criticised poster (Miller et al., 1993;
 Introduction 5
Eayrs et al., 1994), the school children did not depart signicantly on how likely
they would be to donate money to the charity, the implication being that the use of
more positive imagery would not have discouraged donation (Doddington et al.,
1994). That is to say, the negative representation served only to elicit negative
attitudes; it contributed to ableism in its laudatory enforcement of normalcy and to
disablism in its pejorative representation of impairment.
Although ableism and disablism generally work to a binary logic, whereby
people are either disabled or not disabled, a hierarchy of impairments often
becomes apparent in social attitudes toward disability. For example, the British
Social Attitudes Survey (2005) suggests that people are generally more comfortable
with the idea of having a person who is disabled as a neighbour than as a boss or
in-law, and that these negative attitudes are especially strong toward people who
have so-called mental health problems (Robinson et al., 2007). These ndings
echo a comparative study in which Israeli students endorsed empowerment and
perceived the similarity of people who were disabled to themselves more than
they agreed with the prospect of segregation from the community, but were more
likely to endorse the exclusion of people who had mental health problems than
that of people with learning difculties – as though the latter were more different
and thus less threatening than the former (Schwartz and Armony-Sivan, 2001).
What is more, research has found that people who are disabled also hold differing
strengths of attitudes toward different impairment groups (Deal, 2003). That is to
say, ableism and disablism have resulted in a hierarchy of impairments maintained
by people who are disabled and people who are not disabled alike, meaning that
problematic attitudes toward disability have made a profound impression in the
cultural imagination.

Anomalous practice
Anomalous practice, as noted at the start of this introduction, may be said to
demonstrate the profundity of problematic social attitudes toward disability.
There is sometimes an assumption that policy and legislation are accompanied or
else rapidly followed by social change. After all, in the United States, the United
Kingdom, and the Scandinavian countries, by the end of the twentieth century the
parent movement for inclusion had succeeded in changing laws, regulations, and
funding systems to open the doors of so-called regular schools to many children
who were disabled (de Boer et al., 2010). In these terms, the idea is that policies
and legislation for social change are put into place and a less disablist ethos soon
becomes embedded in the popular imagination, or put differently, becomes part of
the ‘hegemony’, the common-sense understanding of the world (Hyland, 1987).
Yet recent history has shown that this is not always the case. In the United
Kingdom, at the end of the twentieth century, one in eight of the population was
classed as disabled but, despite the Disability Discrimination Act of 1995, services
and facilities were still not generally accessible (Chamberlaina, 1998).
Accordingly, although the health service had published guidelines on employment
in hospitals, workers who were disabled remained conspicuous by their absence
6 David Bolt
(Chamberlaina, 1998). People who were disabled represented a similarly
signicant minority population in the United States and also remained
underrepresented in the workforce, despite the passage of the Americans with
Disabilities Act in 1990 (Hunt and Hunt, 2004). Indeed, given that the impact of
legislation in relation to disability has been comparably troubled in, among other
places, India (Cobley, 2013), Israel (Soffer et al., 2010), Korea (Kim and Fox,
2011), Sierra Leone (Berghs, 2010), and Turkey (Bezmez and Yardmc, 2010),
anomalous practice is evidently an international issue.
That anomalous practice remains so widespread warrants discussion in itself,
but it is also important to consider historical details, to explore how the
circumstances and experiences of people who are disabled have changed over
time in relation to policy and legislation (Purdam et al., 2008). The thing is that
policy makers within organisations are inuenced by a variety of social factors, as
evidenced by, say, the British Scout Association’s documented changing attitudes
toward disability in the twentieth century. After all, when national policies
promoted segregation, during the interwar period, the apparently progressive
association encouraged the integration of scouts who were disabled; yet in 1959,
when segregative legislation was abolished, the policy of the Scout Association
paradoxically changed to exclude people who had learning difculties from full
membership (Stevens, 1995). This historical detail illustrates how progressive
legislation may be trumped by disablist policy.
Several important reasons for anomalous practice have been identied. In the
United Kingdom, in the case of the Scout Association, the adoption of medical
classications seemed to justify the disablist action (Stevens, 1995), while in the
instance of the DDA, a major shortfall was that initially there was no enforcement
agency to monitor the implementation (Barnes and Mercer, 2003). What I want us
to focus on here, however, is the interrelated point that, in the United States,
despite the ADA, potential employers and co-workers maintained negative
attitudes toward disability that obstructed progress (Hunt and Hunt, 2004). In fact,
a number of case studies gathered at the turn of the century showed that people
who were disabled remained vulnerable to disproportionate and complex levels of
abuse that were fostered by social attitudes (Calderbank, 2000). The salient point
is that, even after legislation, environmental barriers continue to exist, the ultimate
and most pervasive being attitudinal (DeJong and Lifchez, 1983). What is more,
these social attitudes are rooted in a lack of knowledge and the perpetuation of
erroneous stereotypes (Hunt and Hunt, 2004), meaning they can be effortlessly
maintained behind the backs of people who are disabled.
The catch is that the presence of people who are disabled has long since been
recognised as the key to changing ableist and disablist attitudes. In the late
twentieth century, for example, volunteers and people with learning difculties at
the so-called Special Olympics demonstrated that contact contributed to positive
changes in attitudes (Roper, 1990). This historical example resonates with the
case of hospitals in the United Kingdom, for an obvious but nonetheless important
point made by The Royal College of Physicians was that the presence of people
who were disabled would have altered attitudes, as had already been found in
 Introduction 7
schools (Chamberlaina, 1998). Indeed, some parents of children who are not
disabled have positive attitudes toward inclusive education precisely because they
consider it an opportunity to experience the social acceptance of difference (de
Boer et al., 2010). The trouble is that from these and other such examples it also
follows that, in the absence of contact between people who are and people who are
not disabled, attitudes are unlikely to change for the better. Contact may well be a
key to change but in its absence, as the present book illustrates, ableist and disablist
attitudes are sustained and embellished in many ways.

Overview
The rst part of the book illustrates the fact that, though often neglected, an
historical analysis of changing social attitudes toward disability is an important
area of study (Stevens, 1995). David Doat’s opening chapter on prehistory revisits
Darwinism by proposing a departure from self-sufciency and individual
capabilities in favour of vulnerability, incompleteness, and interdependence as
key conditions of social, moral, and cultural development. Alex Tankard points to
the Wild West to show how the reputation of gunghter Doc Holliday reects
changing attitudes toward tuberculosis and disability over several generations,
before Emmeline Burdett ponders one of the lowest points in human history and
considers the dehumanising attitudes of the Nazi extermination programme. Alice
Hall brings the focus to more recent history and explores the work of two
photojournalists injured in Afghanistan, Giles Duley and João Silva, as a challenge
to attitudes toward physical impairment in terms of agency, empathy, and everyday
experience. In a similarly contemporary vein, Catherine Prendergast’s chapter
closes the rst part of the book with a memoir-informed examination of attitudes
toward antipsychotic drugs.
One of the things that becomes evident is the fact that an emancipatory disability
research agenda should not avoid the cultural artefacts through which social values
and attitudes are shared. I say this because representational methodologies can be
utilised in many creative ways that further understandings of changing social
attitudes. On a fairly basic level, one past study has found that reading about an
encounter with someone who is disabled gives rise to more negative emotions than
reading about a similar encounter with someone who is not disabled (Vilchinsky et
al., 2010). This capacity to inuence social attitudes reveals the importance of
critical engagement with representations of disability as a means of change.
Research into attitudes toward disability and British television, for example, has
resulted in guidelines for programme makers about the importance of disabled
people being at the heart of the creative process in order to produce accurate
representations and aspiring role models; about breaking down non-disabled
viewers’ barriers to acceptance; and about disability being less appreciated, as a
political concern, than ethnicity or gender (Sancho, 2003). Representational
methodologies can be used to interrogate cultural artefacts for manifestations of
ableist and disablist attitudes that must be challenged and changed. For these
reasons, the second part of the book focuses on the power of cultural representation,
8 David Bolt
the hegemonic potential for inuencing social attitudes toward disability. Two of
the chapters are concerned with attitudes toward physical impairment, for Tom
Coogan explores the cultural history of the so-called hunchback gure and Sue
Smith reads a strand of American science ction literature that features the
technological augmentation of the wounded hero. Stella Bolaki’s chapter returns
the focus of the book to mental health problems with reference to life narratives
about schizophrenia – specically, a memoir by Patrick and Henry Cockburn. The
Anglo-American bias of literary disability studies is then challenged as Pauline
Eyre encourages us to revisit a novel by Libuše Moníková for its rich and revealing
representations of disability. My own chapter sustains the literary focus but
juxtaposes it with work on advertising in order to explore assumptions about
aesthetics and attitudes toward visual impairment.
The third part of the book reects the vital role that education plays in creating
the social setting by which attitudes are framed (Hyland, 1987). After all, despite
the often troubling place of mental health problems in the cultural imagination,
purpose-designed education programs have been found to have positive effects on
some attitudes toward schizophrenia (Holmes et al., 1999). Along similar lines, in
another study, student teachers were surveyed at the start and end of a course on
Human Development, which combined formal instruction with eldwork that
involved interviewing members of the community about Down’s syndrome and
inclusive education, and was found to change attitudes toward disability in general
(Campbell and Gilmore, 2003). The present book, however, takes a far more
critical approach to education. Alan Hodkinson goes so far as to render the lack of
disability in school intranet sites as an ethnic cleansing of space. These concerns
about avoidance resonate in Claire Penketh’s chapter as she interrogates attitudes
toward Special Educational Needs and disability within contemporary art
education. Similarly critical of the construct of Special Educational Needs, Owen
Barden appropriates the mock learning disability dysrationalia to explain
institutional attitudes toward disability, before Craig Collinson focuses on
changing attitudes toward dyslexia – a shift from supposed stupidity to designated
disability. Finally, Marie Caslin’s chapter contends that a change in social attitudes
is not desirable but essential because, within the connes of the current British
education system, there is no space for pupils labelled with Behavioural,
Emotional, and Social Difculties.
In concluding this introductory chapter it is worth emphasising the premise of
the book. Education may be thought of as a profound familiarisation with culture,
and it is sometimes said that culture is the glue that holds society together. An
exploration of changing social attitudes toward disability, therefore, must take not
only the more traditional historical approach to disability studies, but also cultural
and educational approaches. Accordingly, the book has a tripartite structure that
now moves the main focus through historical, cultural, and educational studies.
The multidisciplinarity of this structure is enhanced by the interdisciplinary
content of the individual chapters and contributes to the overarching argument
that, in relation to disability, changing social attitudes must not be underestimated:
they must be critically documented and actively endorsed. Of course we realise
 Introduction 9
that a change in attitudes toward disability may not be sufcient, but nonetheless
believe it is a necessary condition of social equality.

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This page intentionally left blank
Part I

Disability, attitudes,
and history
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1 Evolution and human
uniqueness
Prehistory, disability, and the
unexpected anthropology of
Charles Darwin
David Doat

There is an ableist anthropology that underlies most scientic work on evolutionary

theories, one that states that vulnerability and disability have neither function nor
positive meaning in the evolutionary process of our species. This is a tacit reason
why such thematics are often either left out of conversations by evolutionnists or
limited to the controversial issues raised by eugenics. It also implies inappropriate
behaviours and attitudes toward disability. In this chapter, I suggest that we should
reread the writings of Charles Darwin, for contrary to strong social beliefs among
contemporary scientic communities, the founder of the theory of natural selection
was neither a strong defender of eugenics nor a social Darwinist. I conclude by
insisting upon the legitimacy of a new interdisciplinary research eld that focuses
on the survival of disabled members in prehistoric human groups. Because ableism
conditions modern narratives that have been written about the past (Finlay, 1999),
it is only by focusing on new philosophical, scientic, and (pre)historical research
that the history of human evolution may appear less ableist.

The ableist anthropology that underlies scientic discourses

We may well be convinced by modern accounts of human evolution (Huxley,
1941; Dobzhansky, 1962; Jones et al., 1994; Mayr, 2001; Dunbar, 2004),
especially educational accounts that focus on language, mastering the environment
through technology, and the development of human intelligence (Potts et al.,
2010; Roberts, 2011). Nevertheless, many of these accounts spread an incomplete
vision of humanity, for they do not take into consideration the universal facts of
vulnerability and disability.
Because some members of our species are affected by loss of ‘normal powers’
due to disability, they appear marginal and unnecessary in developing the highest
human faculties that contribute to the evolutionary success of human beings.
Vulnerability and disability seem to be devoid of meaning in most contemporary
scientic accounts of human evolution. At best, they are interpreted as the price to
be paid in a ‘nasty and brutish’ evolutionary process based on natural selection,
survival of the ttest, suffering, and a high death toll (Monod, 1974; Dawkins,
16 David Doat
2006). From this perspective, it seems difcult to demonstrate in an evolutionary
framework (whereby utility function is essential) the ‘value’ of a ‘severely’
disabled individual. As a corollary, eugenics and human enhancement appear to
be the only answers to disability. This is the obvious conclusion, unless the
interpretation that disabled individuals do not have a contributory role to play in
the development of human ontology is recognised as the result of an ableist (i.e.,
culturally and historically limited) vision of human beings.
What occurs in economic and political elds of academic research – as has
already been highlighted (Kittay, 1999; Nussbaum, 2006) – also happens in
biological and evolutionary ones: humans are generally seen as independent agents.
The pictures of the Past that evolutionists reconstruct remain essentially ableist in
character (Finlay, 1999; Le Pichon, 2007). Human relationships are systematically
based on a prescriptive understanding of an autonomous human being, driven by
rational interests, and possessing all cognitive and physical faculties. Indeed, this
is an anthropological assumption that is theoretically required (e.g., in evolutionary
ethics and game theory) to make sense of both selsh and altruistic behaviours in
the scope of mathematic and economic modelling (Sober and Wilson, 1999;
Bowles and Gintis, 2013). In this type of modelling of human sociality, it is difcult
to nd a place for persons experiencing social dependency on a daily basis.
Altruism is always interpreted as occurring between fully ‘self-supportive’
individuals (or groups of individuals) capable of struggling to survive.
Under this anthropological bias, the characteristics of human beings as always
vulnerable and sometimes disabled are never taken into account. Instead we try to
hold onto ableist models that produce the ‘best’ theoretical results. By excluding
human vulnerability and disability from anthropological and evolutionary
concerns, some scholars (Rachels, 1991; Singer, 2011) build their scientic and
ethical theories on the philosophical pretence that humans are ontologically
independent (i.e., that the cooperation between persons that some insist is
interdependence is simply mutual and voluntary cooperation between a priori
independent rational individuals).

A fresh look at the works of Charles Darwin: are humans like gorillas?
Because of modern dominant accounts of human evolution and the underlying
philosophical anthropology they reect, human fragility and disability have been
left out of the elements that have played a signicant and decisive role in our
evolutionary history. As the nineteenth- and twentieth-century interest in the
concept of ‘degeneration’ demonstrates, the scientic community used to think
that the lack of adaptive skills in some individuals might even interfere with the
progressive development of a human society in complete and full control of its
destiny. It was in reaction to this fear that many eugenic policies based on the
theories of Darwin were born in the nineteenth century (Stiker, 1999). Yet the
founder of modern biology did not fully subscribe to all of these theories. Although
he was inuenced by the bourgeois-liberal culture of his time, the ‘concrete
suggestions for encouraging reproduction of the valuable members of society or
 Evolution and human uniqueness 17
discouraging it by the undesirable members seemed to Darwin either impractical
or morally suspect’ (Paul, 2003: 223). Furthermore, judging by his anthropological
assumptions, he was aware of the frailty of humanity and of the nature relative to
the very concepts of ‘weakness’, ‘force’, ‘ability’, and so on (Tort, 2001; Paul and
Moore, 2010). Contrary to eugenicists of his time, then, Darwin had both
philosophical and scientic reasons to believe that ‘caring’ for disabled members
was neither senseless nor disadvantageous in human groups.
Fundamentally, Darwin’s philosophical anthropology, which is implicit in his
scientic writings, differs from that of the theorists of social Darwinism, eugenics,
and socio-biology. Although Francis Galton, the founder of eugenics, was
Darwin’s cousin, neither private letters nor public writings demonstrated that
Darwin fully adhered to his cousin’s ideas (Tort, 2008). This is because the
anthropology of Darwin takes into account the vulnerability of the human subject.
Rather than insisting on individual autonomy, Darwin developed a ‘community
selection’ theory (Richards, 2003: 101-109) of the sociocognitive development
and moral sense of humans. This theory relies on a keen awareness of human
vulnerability and the relational processes that contribute to balance in the
interdependency relationships that characterise human societies.
Twelve years after On the Origin of Species, Darwin claimed in The Descent of
Man that human beings could not have developed their most admirable mental
abilities without the ‘fragility’ characteristic to their organic form. Wondering
whether he should not have descended from a gorilla or a smaller and less
independent species of ape, Darwin wrote in The Descent of Man:

In regard to bodily size or strength, we do not know whether man is descended

from some small species, like the chimpanzee, or from one as powerful as the
gorilla; and, therefore, we cannot say whether man has become larger and
stronger, or smaller and weaker, than his ancestors. We should, however, bear
in mind that an animal possessing great size, strength, and ferocity, and which,
like the gorilla, could defend itself from all enemies, would not perhaps have
become social: and this would most effectually have checked the acquirement
of the higher mental qualities, such as sympathy and the love of his fellows.
Hence it might have been an immense advantage to man to have sprung from
some comparatively weak creature. The small strength and speed of man, his
want of natural weapons, etc., are more than counterbalanced, rstly, by his
intellectual powers, through which he has formed for himself weapons, tools,
etc., though still remaining in a barbarous state, and, secondly, by his social
qualities which lead him to give and receive aid from his fellow-man.
(Darwin, 1874: 63–64)

Patrick Tort, a specialist in Darwin’s works in France, highlights that Darwin

observed that the individual strength of a gorilla, its ability to defend itself,
represented an obstacle for socialisation and that a similar disposition in the
human subject would have checked the acquisition of the highest mental qualities
(Tort, 2008). Human vulnerability appears as a selected advantage that calls for
18 David Doat
union in the face of danger; it calls for cooperation and mutual aid (Tort, 2008);
and it contributes to the correlative development of intelligence by assuming the
protection of people who cannot defend themselves. In other words, for Darwin,
our evolutionary victory is not solely dependent on higher cognitive abilities,
culture, technology or language. It also appears necessarily linked to our
vulnerability, interdependency, and inclination for social care, which have
consistently pushed humanity to compensate by relying more on what is cultural,
technological, and symbolic (Finkelstein, 1998: 28).
John Dewey, one of the founders of pragmatism, proposed an interesting
evolutionary take on this subject:

We may imagine a leader in an early social group, when the question had
arisen of putting to death the feeble, the sickly, and the aged, in order to give
that group an advantage in the struggle for existence with other groups; – we
may imagine him, I say, speaking as follows: ‘No. In order that we may
secure this advantage, let us preserve these classes [whether disabled or not].
It is true for the moment that they make an additional drain upon our resources,
and an additional tax upon the energies which might otherwise be engaged in
ghting our foes. But in looking after these helpless we shall develop habits
of foresight and forethought, powers of looking before and after, tendencies
to husband our means, which shall ultimately make us the most skilled in
warfare. We shall foster habits of group loyalty, feelings of solidarity, which
shall bind us together by such close ties that no social group which has not
cultivated like feelings through caring for all its members, will be able to
withstand us’. In a word, such conduct would pay in the struggle for existence
as well as be morally commendable. If the group to which he spoke saw any
way to tide over the immediate emergency, no one can gainsay the logic of
this speech. Not only the prolongation of the period of dependence, but the
multiplication of its forms, has meant historically increase of intelligent
foresight and planning, and increase of the bonds of social unity. Who shall
say that such qualities are not positive instruments in the struggle for
existence, and that those who stimulate and call out such powers are not
among those ‘t to survive’?
(Dewey, 1898: 326)

Here, the ‘less able’ coincides with the human who does not make paying attention
to human vulnerability, interdependence, and mutual caring practices central in
her or his life. The concept of ‘care’ to which I refer does not assume that any
relations between care receivers and care providers are asymmetric (and
paternalistic). As David Bolt writes, ‘While there is a received understanding that
disabled people are dependent on non-disabled people, the reverse is frequently
unacknowledged but also true, as has been portrayed in many works of ction that
blur the distinction between non-disabled care-provider and disabled dependant’
(Bolt, 2008: para. 11). On the other hand, ‘caring practices’ must be distinguished
from ‘curing practices’, for they do not (only) refer to the medical eld. Indeed,
Another random document with
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stylet will form the anterior tip of the proboscis, and will there be in a position for
offence or defence (Fig. 57, s).

Nervous System.[131]—The brain is composed of two ganglionic masses (Fig.

53, n.g) lying at the anterior end of the body, one on each side of the proboscis,
and united by commissures passing round it (Fig. 55, d.c and v.c). Each
ganglionic mass is often partially divided into a dorsal and ventral lobe (n.g.d
and n.g.v). From the brain a pair of cords pass off backwards along the sides of
the body (n.c); these cords, which have no ganglionic swellings, in some forms
unite with one another above the anus. Anteriorly nerves are given off from the
brain to the eyes and front part of the head (a.n). A nerve to the proboscis is
given off from the commissure which unites the two halves of the brain dorsal to
the proboscis (d.n).

Fig. 54.—Diagrammatic representation of the proboscis, (A) in the retracted

condition, (B) in the everted condition. g.p, Glandular portion of the
proboscis; m, muscle attaching the proboscis to its sheath; m.p, muscular
portion of the proboscis; p.p in A, proboscis pore; p.p in B represents the
position of the proboscis pore in the retracted condition of the proboscis; p.s,
proboscis sheath.

In two out of the three groups into which the Nemertines are divided, the lateral
nerve-cords are in connexion with a network or plexus of nerves lying between
the muscular layers of the body-wall (Fig. 52, n.l), and in some forms constituting
a comparatively thick layer. In these two groups there are no definite nerve
branches except the anterior ones to the head. In the third group of Nemertines
the lateral nerve-cords lie within the muscular layers of the body-wall, and in this
case paired nerve branches are given off at definite intervals throughout the
whole length of the body. These branches divide up among the organs to which
they pass, and no nerve plexus is present.

The lateral cords vary in position in different cases. Sometimes they lie laterally,
at others the cords tend to approximate to one another in the median dorsal or in
the median ventral line, though in every case they remain distinctly separated.
Sense Organs.—Sense organs are usually present in the form of eyes arranged
at the sides of the head (Fig. 51, e), sometimes as a single pair and sometimes
in one or more groups on each side. The structure of the eyes varies from a
simple pigment spot to an organ which receives a special nerve-supply from the
brain, and possesses a refracting body answering to a lens, and behind this a
pigment layer and a layer of rods. Some forms are devoid of all traces of eyes.

Fig. 55.—Diagram to show the relations of the nervous system, circulatory system,
and proboscis sheath in the anterior end of the body in the Hoplonemertea,
modified from M‘Intosh. a.n, Nerves to anterior part of body and eyes; d.c,
dorsal commissure; d.n, median dorsal nerve; d.v, dorsal vascular trunk; l.v,
lateral vascular trunk; n.c, lateral nerve-cord; n.g.d, dorsal lobe of nerve
ganglion; n.g.v, ventral lobe of nerve ganglion; p.p, proboscis pore; p.s,
proboscis sheath; v.c, ventral commissure; v.s, vascular ring or collar.

A pair of simple auditory capsules has been found in some of the

Hoplonemertea, where they occur as small vesicles on the brain.

The whole surface of the body appears to be remarkably sensitive. In a few

forms small tufts of tactile hairs are said to be present in the region of the head,
while in others there are a few long hairs scattered sparsely among the cilia of
the epidermis.

Frontal Organ.—In many Nemertines there is present at the anterior tip of the
head a disc-shaped group of cells bearing long hairs or bristles. On this disc
open the secreting ducts of a number of gland cells lying in the head. It seems
possible that this frontal organ may function as an organ of taste.

Side Organs.—In the Carinellidae there is a pair of circular epithelial patches

lying one on each side of the body in the region of the excretory pore. The cells
composing them are richly ciliated and provided with a plentiful nerve-supply.
The function of these epithelial patches is not known, but it has been suggested
that they may be auditory organs.
Cephalic Slits and Cerebral Organs.—In most Nemertines there is a peculiar
pair of organs (Figs. 50, 53, c.s), situated in the head and in close connexion
with the brain. The function of these organs is not known. Hubrecht has
suggested that they may be respiratory, while Bürger[132] conjectures that they
may be organs which are used for discriminating the condition of the
surrounding medium. In an external examination of the head, the cephalic slits
may usually be seen as a pair of lateral furrows or pits. Their form and direction
vary considerably; they may take the form of shallow circular depressions, or
they may lie longitudinally and be slit-like in shape (Fig. 50), or the slit may lie at
right angles to the long axis of the body and be beset with short transverse
furrows. In some forms these slits are merely superficial depressions, but in
others they are continued into ciliated ducts, which pass inwards and penetrate
into special lobes, consisting of glandular tissue and ganglion cells, in close
connexion with the brain. These lobes are called the cerebral organs.

In many forms the nervous system is charged with haemoglobin, which gives to
it a bright red colour.

Circulatory or Blood-Vascular System.—The circulatory system consists of

three main longitudinal vessels, a median dorsal and a pair of lateral ones.
These are connected together posteriorly by a transverse trunk, and also
throughout the whole length of their course by branches, which are given off at
regular intervals. Anteriorly the three longitudinal vessels either all unite and
form a collar (Fig. 55, v.s) round the oesophagus, or they break up into a number
of lacunar or open spaces in free communication with one another.

The blood is usually colourless, but in some cases the corpuscles are coloured
red by haemoglobin.

Fig. 56.—Excretory system of Nemertines. A, Drepanophorus spectabilis Qtrf.,

part of one of the lateral vessels encircled by branches of the excretory
organ, × 585; e, main canal of the excretory system: B, D. crassus Qtrf., a
terminal branch of the excretory system, × 585; f, ciliated flame: C,
Malacobdella grossa O. F. Müll., entire animal, slightly magnified, showing
 the excretory system (black) and the vascular system; e.a, excretory
aperture; d.v, dorsal vessel; l.v, lateral vessel. (From Bürger.)

Excretory System.—Max Schultze[133] found in Tetrastemma obscurum, on the

outer side of, but near to the lateral blood-vessels, a pair of canals. He observed
ciliary movements in the canals, but could not discover flame cells. Further
contributions to our knowledge of the excretory system were made by Semper,
[134] von Kennel,[135] Hubrecht,[136] and Oudemans.[137] The latter states that
the excretory system consists of a pair of canals situated laterally near the
anterior end of the body. Each canal communicates with the exterior by one or
more ducts having lateral regularly-arranged apertures. In some cases he was
unable to make out any communication with the vascular system, but in others a
direct communication, by means of open connexions with the lacunar blood
spaces, is said to occur.

Silliman[138] in Tetrastemma aquarum dulcium describes the excretory vessels

as ending in numerous capillary branches, at the blind terminations of which cilia
are present. He states that there is no important difference between the
excretory systems of Rhabdocoeles and Nemertines.

Bürger,[139] as the result of recent investigations on the excretory system in

Nemertines, finds that the minute branches end in flame-cells (Fig. 56, B) lying
on and among the blood-vessels, but having no open connexion with them.

Generative System.—The Nemertines are for the most part dioecious, only a
few certainly hermaphrodite species having been described, e.g. Tetrastemma
("Borlasia") kefersteinii Mar.[140]

The generative products in both cases are contained in sacs (Figs. 52, 53, g)
which lie in the lateral region of the body between the pouches of the alimentary
canal. The ova and spermatozoa are conveyed to the exterior by short ducts.
Most species are oviparous, though a few viviparous species are known (e.g.
Prosorhochmus claparedii).

Classification.—Nemertines were divided by M. Schultze[141] into:—

1. Enopla, in which the proboscis is armed with stylets.

2. Anopla, in which the proboscis is unarmed.

Although this classification was fairly correct as far as it went, since many other
distinctive features were correlated with the presence or absence of armature in
the proboscis, still there are several primitive forms belonging to the Anopla,
which possess characters such as render it necessary to class them together in
a separate group.

For this reason Hubrecht divided the Nemertinea into three Orders—
Hoplonemertea, Schizonemertea, Palaeonemertea; the first of these Orders
corresponding with the Enopla, and the other two with the Anopla.

Order I. Hoplonemertea.

The proboscis is armed. The epidermis rests on a thick layer of connective

tissue plentifully supplied with glands, below which is a prominent basement
membrane. The muscular layers of the body are two in number, an outer circular
and an inner longitudinal. The nerve-trunks lie within the muscular layers of the
body and give off regularly-arranged branches. There is no nerve plexus. Each
of the cephalic slits generally opens by a pore situated in the centre of a
transverse groove, which is beset along one side by a row of shorter grooves at
right angles to it. The apparatus consists of a ciliated duct surrounded by nerve
tissue, and passing into lobes of tissue which are connected with the brain by
thick nerve-cords. The mouth opens rather far forward in front of the brain. The
intestinal pouches are symmetrically arranged. Auditory organs are said to exist
in some forms, consisting of vesicles containing otoliths. The vascular trunks are
connected anteriorly by closed vessels and not by lacunar spaces.

Fig. 57.—Anterior end of the everted proboscis (Hoplonemertea). g.p, Glandular

portion of the proboscis; l.s, lateral sacs containing stylets; m.p, muscular
portion of the proboscis; s, stylet; s.b, granular basal portion of stylet.

The principal British genera and species[142] are:—

Amphiporus bioculatus M‘Int., A. dissimulans Riches, A. hastatus M‘Int., A.

lactifloreus M‘Int., A. pulcher Johnst.
 Drepanophorus rubrostriatus Hubr. (= A. spectabilis Qtrf.).

Tetrastemma ambiguum Riches, T. candidum O. F. Müll., T. dorsale Abildg.,

T. flavidum Ehrenb., T. immutabile Riches, T. melanocephalum Johnst., T.
nigrum Riches, T. robertianae M‘Int., T. vermiculatum Qtrf.

Prosorhochmus claparedii Keferstein.

Nemertes carcinophila Köll., N. gracilis Johnst., N. neesii Oerst.

Malacobdella grossa O. F. Müll.

Order II. Schizonemertea.

The proboscis is unarmed. The epidermis is separated from the layer of

connective tissue by a thin basement membrane, hence the glands in the
connective tissue are more deeply situated and have long ducts. The muscular
layers are three in number, an outer and an inner longitudinal layer between
which lies a layer of circular muscles. The lateral nerve-cords lie between the
outer longitudinal and the circular muscle layers. They are connected throughout
the body by a nerve plexus, the only definite nerve branches given off being
those to the brain, oesophagus, and proboscis. The cephalic slits are a pair of
deep longitudinal grooves at the sides of the head. From each groove a canal
passes inwards into a posterior brain-lobe. The mouth opens behind the brain,
and is an elongated slit bounded by corrugated lips. Auditory organs have not
been observed. The longitudinal vascular trunks are connected anteriorly by
lacunar spaces, and not by closed vessels.

Fig. 58.—Head end of Cerebratulus marginatus Ren., from the ventral surface.
Drawn from a spirit specimen. Naples. × 1. c.s, Cephalic slit; m, mouth; p.p,
proboscis pore.
Principal British genera and species:—

Lineus bilineatus Ren., L. lacteus Mont., L. marinus Mont. (= L. longissimus

Gunnerus), L. gesserensis O. F. Müll. (= L. obscurus Desor and L.
sanguineus M‘Int.).

Borlasia elizabethae M‘Int.

Cerebratulus angulatus O. F. Müll., C. fuscus M‘Int., C. pantherinus Hubr.

Micrura aurantiaca Grube, M. candida Bürger, M. fasciolata Ehrenb., M.

purpurea J. Müll.

Meckelia asulcata M‘Int.

Order III. Palaeonemertea.

The proboscis is unarmed. The epidermis and connective tissue form one layer,
below which is the basement membrane. The muscular layers are three in
number, two circular separated by a longitudinal layer. The nerve-cords lie
altogether external to the muscular layers, and are connected together
throughout by a plexus. No nerve branches are given off. The brain is not
divided into lobes. The cephalic slits are only represented by a shallow
depression on each side of the head, and no canals have been observed
leading from them. The intestine is straight, and the pouches are usually absent
or rudimentary. The circulatory system is largely made up of lacunar spaces, the
closed system being but little developed.

Principal British genera and species:—

Carinella annulata Mont., C. linearis (Mont., MS.) M‘Int., C. macintoshi

Bürger (Fig. 59), C. polymorpha Ren.

Cephalothrix bioculata Oerst., C. linearis Rathke.

Valencinia lineformis M‘Int.

 Fig. 59.—Carinella macintoshi Bürger, drawn from the living specimen, slightly
contracted. Plymouth. Considerably magnified. a, Anterior end; b, posterior
end.

A most important monograph by Bürger[143] on Nemertines has just been

published, but unfortunately it appeared too late to be adequately considered
here. He gives an elaborate account, illustrated by admirable figures, of the
present state of our knowledge of this group, and his work will be indispensable
to future students of the subject. The older systems of classification are
criticised, and the following scheme is adopted in their place:—

Order I. Protonemertini (= part of the Palaeonemertea, e.g. Carinella).—The

brain and lateral nerve-cords lie outside the muscle layers in the epithelium or
below the basement membrane. The body-wall consists of the following layers:
epidermis, basement membrane, circular muscles, and longitudinal muscles.
The mouth lies behind the brain. The proboscis is unarmed.

Order II. Mesonemertini (= part of the Palaeonemertea, e.g. Cephalothrix).—

The characters of this Order are similar to those of the Protonemertini except
that the brain and lateral nerve-cords lie in the muscle layers.

Order III. Metanemertini (= Hoplonemertea).—The brain and lateral nerve-

cords lie in the parenchyma of the body internal to the muscle layers. The layers
of the body-wall are similar to those of the Protonemertini. The mouth lies in
front of the brain. The proboscis is armed. At the junction of the fore- and mid-
gut a diverticulum is given off which projects forwards beneath the fore-gut and
ends blindly in front.

Order IV. Heteronemertini (= Schizonemertea, and the genera Eupolia and

Valencinia, placed provisionally by Hubrecht in the Palaeonemertea).—The
body-wall consists of the following layers: epidermis, thick cutis, and an outer
and an inner longitudinal muscle layer separated from one another by a circular
muscle layer. The brain and lateral nerve-cords lie between the outer
longitudinal and the circular muscle layers. The mouth lies behind the brain. The
proboscis is unarmed.
Development of the Nemertinea.—The development of the Palaeonemertea is
at present not known: in the Schizonemertea a larval stage occurs; while in the
Hoplonemertea the egg develops directly without undergoing any
metamorphosis.

There are two forms of larva characteristic of the Schizonemertea, known

respectively as Pilidium and the Type of Desor. The Pilidium is hatched early
and leads a free-swimming existence, whereas the Type of Desor, though in
many respects resembling it, never passes through the free-swimming phase.

Fig. 60.—Diagram of a Pilidium larva. (After Salensky.) c, Tuft of cilia; m, muscle-

fibres; mo, mouth, seen through one of the lateral lobes; n, nerve-fibres; n.r,
nerve-ring; n.g, nerve ganglion; oes, oesophagus; st, stomach.

The Pilidium (Fig. 60) is a helmet-shaped larva bearing a tuft or spike dorsally,
and prolonged downwards laterally into a pair of lobes. The whole larva is
covered with cilia, there being a specially strong band round its ventral surface.
The dorsal spike is composed of a bunch of strongly developed cilia or of a long
flagellum. The alimentary canal consists of a sac constricted into oesophageal
and gastric regions (Fig. 60, oes and st). In this condition the larva swims about
freely in the water. The helmet-shaped Pilidium-skin forms no part of the future
Nemertine, the skin of which is developed as ingrowths from it; these meet one
another and unite to form a complete covering round the alimentary canal; the
larval skin is then cast off, and by a series of gradual steps the embryo develops
into the adult.

Habits.—Nemertines are often found under stones between high- and low-water
marks, lying on sandy or muddy bottoms. They are usually in the form of coiled
masses, and are generally in a state of quiescence. Hence it is probable that
their period of activity is during high-water, and that when left by the receding
tide they subside into a resting condition.

The large kinds, such as Lineus marinus, seem to be always found living alone,
but some of the smaller kinds, notably Tetrastemma dorsale and Prosorhochmus
claparedii, have gregarious habits and live in masses, the coils of the different
individuals being inextricably mixed.

Some species, such as Micrura purpurea, Amphiporus pulcher, and

Cerebratulus angulatus, frequent empty bivalve shells, while Nemertines are
often found in empty limpet shells adhering to rocks in tidal pools. Other smaller
forms resort to no such definite protection, but live among seaweeds; some of
these remain naked, while others secrete for themselves tubes of a
membranous or gelatinous consistency. Borlasia elizabethae lives in a burrow of
clay.

Nemertines are commonly dredged from a depth of six or eight fathoms. They
may sometimes be found floating on the surface of the water, and some possess
the power of swimming rapidly, propelling themselves by a lateral motion of the
tail, the sides of which are in such cases prolonged into a thin fin-like edge. This
mode of progression is usually adopted by those which frequent deep water. A
pelagic Nemertine (Pelagonemertes) was discovered by Moseley near the
southern verge of the South Australian current, being found in a trawl with deep-
sea forms from a depth of 1800 fathoms. This animal was leaf-like in shape,
bluntly pointed behind and rather square in front.

The power possessed by Nemertines of secreting mucus is very great, their

course being often traceable by the tracks which they leave behind them. Many
of them glide along with great rapidity, a mode of progression which is probably
due to the cilia covering the whole outer skin, and to the extreme contractility of
the muscles of the body-wall. In some locomotion is effected by the proboscis;
this is protruded and attaches itself by means of its spines to some foreign body,
after which the body is drawn up after it. This has been specially observed in a
land form, Tetrastemma agricola, discovered by Willemoes-Suhm in the
Bermudas. On solid bodies the movement is a kind of crawling action, the head
and mouth acting as suckers in much the same way as in many Leeches.

Most Nemertines can be very readily kept in confinement. The chief apparent
effect of such a life is a loss of colour, the animal gradually becoming pallid in
hue. Owing also to the absence of proper food they diminish very much in size,
though even when all food is kept away an animal will sometimes continue to
live as long as eighteen months.

Food.—Nemertines are carnivorous in their habits and are very voracious,

devouring any prey which comes in their way, whether it be living or dead. No
animal food seems to come amiss to them, and they will devour creatures of
considerable size. When in contact with its prey, the Nemertine dilates its mouth
to a large extent, and the anterior end of the oesophagus is thrust out and
engulfs the animal. Chaetopods form a favourite food material, the whole animal
being swallowed quite regardless of the hard chitinous bristles and spines with
which it is beset. The soft parts are gradually digested, the bristles and other
indigestible portions being extruded by the anus. The larger spines often pass
out by perforating passages through the wall of the intestine and through the
body-wall. The aperture thus formed appears speedily to heal after the foreign
body has been extruded.

The carnivorous habits of Nemertines even extend to cannibalism, and when

kept in confinement they frequently devour one another. For this reason it is
unsafe to keep large and small kinds together, as the small ones speedily
disappear, being used as food material by the large. If one be divided into
several pieces, the pieces are very rapidly demolished by other individuals.

Regeneration.[144]—This power is, no doubt, of great service to these animals,

since injury, or even violent local irritation, often causes complete rupture at the
point affected. It seems that the chief power of regeneration is situated in the
head, as, if a very short piece be broken off the anterior end of the body, it very
rapidly reproduces itself into a new individual. The hind end of the original body
often lives for a considerable time, but it does not in most cases appear to
possess the power of reproducing a head, and after existing for a time it dies.
For a while, however, it so far retains its vital powers that the generative
products continue to grow, and actually attain to perfection. Severe wounds also
heal very quickly and completely, and all local injuries are speedily repaired.

Owing to the force with which it is shot out, the proboscis is often completely
severed from the body, and in such a case the animal grows a new one in an
extremely short space of time. The proboscis thus broken off retains its power of
movement and contractility for a considerable time, and has been more than
once mistaken for a worm. This great vital power is probably due to the great
development of nervous tissue, the proboscis being usually richly supplied with
nerve plexuses.

One large form, Lineus sanguineus, seems to possess great recuperative

powers. It shows a marked tendency to break up into pieces, when not only the
head end, but also the other portions develop into perfect animals, each one
growing a head and all the organs belonging to it. Thus in this case an animal
may multiply by a simple process of transverse fission, and form numerous
complete individuals.
Breeding.—The breeding season only appears to cease in the extreme of
winter. Different genera and species seem to mature their generative products at
different times.

In the armed Nemertines the eggs are deposited separately, and are not
connected together except by such accidental mucus as the animal deposits
normally; but in the unarmed a special mucous secretion forms a thick
investment for the eggs.

M‘Intosh[145] has observed the process of the deposition of the male and female
products in Nemertes gracilis. He put into a glass vessel a male and female of
this species in which the products were apparently ripe. Soon spermatozoa
began to issue in wreath-like jets from the body of the male, at first from the
middle region of the body, and afterwards anteriorly and posteriorly, until the
animal was enveloped in a dense cloud of spermatozoa. The whole process only
lasted a few minutes. When all the spermatozoa had apparently been given out,
the female was seen to protrude her head from the sand; she then passed to the
side of the vessel and deposited a group of eggs about three inches distant from
the spermatozoa.

With only a few exceptions Nemertines are oviparous. Prosorhochmus

claparedii, Tetrastemma obscurum, and Monopora vivipara have been observed
to contain embryos at certain times of the year. In other forms the eggs are laid
when ripe, and development takes place subsequently to their deposition.

Geographical Distribution.—Nemertines have been found in all seas from the

arctic to the equatorial regions. Many forms are found in the British Isles both
between tide-marks and also at greater depths around our coasts. Some genera
seem to be confined to warm climates and others to cold; while others appear to
be indifferent to climate, and to subsist equally well under very various degrees
of temperature. So far as is known, the land forms are all indigenous to warm
countries.

Land Forms.—Land forms, which occur on or in moist earth under stones or

decaying vegetable matter, have been discovered and described by Semper,
[146] Willemoes-Suhm,[146] and von Graff.[146]

The species found by Semper, and called by him Geonemertes palaensis, lives
under damp leaves and the roots of trees on Pelew Island in the North Pacific. It
is about 2 inches long, of a reddish-white colour, with narrow, brownish-black,
longitudinal stripes on its dorsal surface. It possesses six eyes and very small
cephalic slits and cerebral organs. The proboscis is armed, and opens by the
mouth instead of by a special pore.

The same peculiarity as to the opening of the proboscis is found in Geonemertes

chalicophora, discovered by von Graff in pots of Corypha australis in the palm-
house at Frankfurt-on-Main. He found specimens on and beneath the surface of
the earth. As it was only found in pots in which this Australian plant was growing,
von Graff thought it almost certain that it was a native of Australia. Those found
below the surface of the earth were surrounded by a transparent tube in which
particles of earth were embedded. The animal is small, only about two-fifths of
an inch in length. The colour is milk-white, with a small quantity of red pigment
anteriorly: there are four eyes, and the cephalic slits are absent.
The species which was discovered by Willemoes-Suhm, and named
by him Tetrastemma agricola, lives under stones in damp earth in the
Bermudas. It differs from the other two in that the proboscis opens
by a special terminal aperture. It measures nearly an inch and a half
in length, and, like G. chalicophora, is milk-white in colour. It
resembles it also in possessing four eyes, and in the absence of
cerebral organs and cephalic slits.

Fresh-water Forms.—In most cases the descriptions of fresh-water

forms are so vague and incomplete that it is difficult to determine
whether or not they are different species.

They are probably more numerous than is at present known, and are
certainly scattered widely over the face of the earth, since they have
been found in Nicaragua, at Tashkend in Turkestan, and at
Philadelphia and Monroe in the United States.

A form of which we have a full description is Tetrastemma aquarum

dulcium, found by Silliman[147] at Monroe, under stones in brooks in
company with Planarians. It is a small worm of a red or pink colour,
about half an inch in length, and it possesses usually three pairs of
eyes. The proboscis is armed, and opens by a separate aperture.
The excretory system consists of a vessel on each side of the body,
each opening externally by a pore, and internally dividing into
numerous branches which end in ciliated expansions. An individual
of the same species was found by Beddard in one of the tanks in the
Botanical Gardens in Regent's Park, but as the tank is one in which
tropical plants are grown, it had almost certainly been introduced
among the roots of the plants, and cannot be considered as a British
species.

A fresh-water Nemertine belonging to the genus Tetrastemma was,

however, found by Benham[148] on the roots of some water plants in
the Cherwell at Oxford. The specimen was of a bright orange colour
and measured half an inch in length.
Du Plessis[149] found another fresh-water form on the lower surface
of stones in shallow pools on the shores of the Lake of Geneva, and
named it Tetrastemma lacustre. It is a small animal, the largest
specimens being rather over an inch in length.

Another European genus was found in 1893 by F. E. Schulze in

Berlin. It has been fully described by T. H. Montgomery,[150] who has
given it the name of Stichostemma eilhardii.

Parasitic Forms.—The genus Malacobdella was found by von

Kennel[151] in large numbers living on Cyprina islandica, a
Lamellibranch Mollusc, in the harbour at Kiel; and it has also been
described by Riches[152] as a British form. It is attached to its host by
means of a large round sucker situated at the posterior end of the
ventral surface, while the rest of the body waves about freely in the
mantle-cavity. It is perhaps hardly correct to describe this animal as
parasitic, since it does not appear to obtain its nutriment at the
expense of the host by preying on its juices. The advantage of its
position is, however, obvious, since a perpetual current of water is
kept up in the mantle-cavity of the Mollusc, and from the stream the
Nemertine is able to pick out and take for itself any food material
which it considers suitable. At the same time it is not subjected to the
influence of the winds and waves, as the shell of the mollusc acts as
a barrier to prevent the entrance of disturbing elements.

Malacobdella is short and broad, somewhat flattened dorso-ventrally.

The anterior end is bluntly rounded. The mouth opens into a wide
pharynx, which is constricted behind and then passes into the
intestine; this after a few coils opens by the anus situated dorsally
immediately above the sucker. The proboscis opens into the
pharynx.
 Fig. 61.—Malacobdella grossa O. F. Müll., a large female specimen.
Kiel. × 1. (From von Kennel.) A, From the dorsal surface; B, from
the ventral surface.

Palaeontology.—Nemertines are unknown in a fossil state; this is

probably owing to the softness of their bodies, which would render
their preservation extremely improbable.

Affinities.—Until recently the Nemertines were regarded as a sub-

order of the Turbellaria. They were afterwards separated from the
Turbellaria and placed as a distinct class of the phylum
Platyhelminthes.

Some zoologists have considered them to be so different in many

respects from the other classes of the Platyhelminthes as to justify
their being altogether separated from that phylum, and treated as a
distinct group.

If, however, the recent work of Bürger on the excretory system is to

be relied upon, the existence of flame cells would be a strong reason
for classing them among the Platyhelminthes.

Hubrecht[153] has instituted an interesting comparison between

Nemertines and Vertebrates. He compares the median dorsal nerve
of Nemertines to the spinal cord of Vertebrates; the lateral nerve-
cords to the nerve of the Vertebrate lateral line; and the lateral
swellings which constitute the brain in Nemertines to the lateral
ganglia of the cephalic region in Vertebrates. This view is
strengthened by the existence of transverse nerves connecting the
lateral and dorsal nerves of Nemertines, since these may be
compared with the spinal nerves of Vertebrates. He suggests that
both Nemertines and Vertebrates may have arisen from a vermiform
animal possessing a nervous layer in the form of a plexus of nerve-
fibres, the nerve tissue having become concentrated along three
lines to form a median dorsal and two lateral nerve trunks; the former
being specially developed in the Vertebrata and the latter in the
Nemertines. Hubrecht further suggests that the notochord of
Vertebrates may be a survival of the proboscis sheath of
Nemertines, while the proboscis of the latter may be represented by
the invagination to form the pituitary body in Vertebrates.

Certain authors[154] have suggested that indications exist of a

relationship between Nemertines and Balanoglossus.

The features which are supposed to indicate this are the elongated
vermiform shape showing no external signs of segmentation; the
ciliated smooth skin and the possession of unicellular mucous
glands; and the protrusible proboscis, which may be comparable to
the non-retractile proboscis of Balanoglossus, a comparison which is
strengthened by the fact that in some Nemertines a sheath of nerve-
fibres exists in the wall of the proboscis corresponding to the nerve
plexus in the proboscis of Balanoglossus. In both cases an
ectodermic nerve plexus exists with local thickenings along definite
lines, although these lines are not the same in the two cases. Both
possess a straight alimentary canal, ending in a terminal anus and
thrown out into paired lateral caeca, between which are the paired
metamerically-arranged generative sacs.
 NEMATHELMINTHES & CHAETOGNATHA

BY

ARTHUR E. SHIPLEY, M.A.

Fellow and Tutor of Christ's College, Cambridge.

CHAPTER VI

NEMATHELMINTHES

INTRODUCTION—NEMATODA—ANATOMY—EMBRYOLOGY—
CLASSIFICATION—ASCARIDAE—STRONGYLIDAE—TRICHOTRACHELIDAE—
FILARIIDAE—MERMITHIDAE—ANGUILLULIDAE—ENOPLIDAE—PARASITISM
—NEMATOMORPHA—ANATOMY—CLASSIFICATION—LIFE-HISTORY—
ACANTHOCEPHALA—ANATOMY—EMBRYOLOGY—CLASSIFICATION.

The Nemathelminthes include three sub-Orders of very different size

and importance. These are—

i. The Nematoda.
ii. The Nematomorpha (Gordiidae).
iii. The Acanthocephala.

Although the members of these groups differ considerably from one

another, on the whole there is a closer resemblance between them
than between any one of them and any other group of animals, and
there is a certain convenience in arranging them under one head.

The following characteristics are common to all three groups of the

Nemathelminthes: they are worm-like in form, and with few
exceptions are parasitic in the bodies of other animals, either
Vertebrate or Invertebrate. Some of them spend their whole
existence within the bodies of their hosts, but more commonly they
are only parasitic during a certain period of their life; a few, however,
lead a free life in water or in damp earth. None of the
Nemathelminthes are segmented—that is, their bodies are not
divided into a number of parts which serially repeat each other, and
which resemble more or less closely the preceding and succeeding
parts. They are not provided with any appendages or limbs, but
sometimes bear a few bristles or hooks, and in rarer cases suckers.
The body, which is elongated and, as a rule, thread-like and tapering
at each end, is enclosed in a thick cuticle or hardened secretion of
the underlying cells. In no Nemathelminth is there any closed
vascular system, nor are special respiratory organs developed.

In many respects the most remarkable peculiarity of these animals is

that, with the possible exception of the excretory organs of the
Acanthocephala, there is a complete absence of cilia throughout the
whole group. In this respect they resemble the Arthropoda. The
universal presence of these small flickering processes of cells from
man down to the simplest unicellular organisms makes the absence
of these structures most remarkable. In many animals they are the
sole organs of locomotion, and in almost all they perform very
important functions, both in bringing food and oxygen to the body,
and in removing waste matter from it. At present there seems to be
no adequate explanation for their absence in the two large groups
mentioned above.

Nemathelminthes are, with hardly an exception, dioecious—that is to

say, their male and female reproductive organs are in different
individuals. Their young do not differ markedly from the adults,
except in the absence of sexual organs, but the immature stages are
usually termed larvae, and not infrequently either inhabit a different
host from the adult, or are free when the adults are parasitic, or vice
versâ.
 Sub-Order I. Nematoda.

Anatomy.—The Nematode worms, or thread-worms, form by far the

largest and most important division of the group Nemathelminthes.
The number of species is great, and although the conditions under
which they live are of the most varied kind, there is, as a rule, little
corresponding difference in structure, and hence the determination
of the species is attended with no small difficulty.

With few exceptions the shape of the body is filiform (Figs. 66 and
71), the two ends being more or less pointed, and the posterior end
of the male, which is generally a smaller animal than the female, is
usually slightly recurved. The worms are, as a rule, white, or of the
colour of polished ivory; they may be opaque or semi-transparent,
but pigment spots are rarely developed.

Minute Nematodes abound in moist soil, around the roots of plants,

etc., and may easily be detected with the aid of a lens wriggling
about amongst the particles of sand and earth. Of the animal
parasites perhaps the most familiar is the "round worm" (Ascaris
lumbricoides, Figs. 66 and 67), which inhabits the alimentary canal
of man; others are common in domesticated animals, as A. mystax
in the cat and dog, and A. megalocephala in the horse and ox. They
are also found living parasitically in plants (Fig. 77), causing the
formation of galls and other pathological growths; Anguillula
(Tylenchus) tritici causes in this way considerable damage to corn,
and others attack root-crops, cabbages, etc. The "vinegar eel"
(Anguillula aceti), which occurs so often in weak vinegar, is another
familiar example of this group.

The Skin.—The body of the worm is encased in a relatively thick,

transparent, smooth cuticle, which is turned in at the various
apertures, and lines the tubes connected with them for a greater or
less distance. The cuticle is in some cases raised to form spikes or
hooks, and in certain species, e.g. Ascaris mystax and A. transfuga,
it is produced into two lateral fins, which are supported by a