Introducing The Combat Wheelchair : Why Magic & Disability Are Compatible

Image Description: Digital portrait of a handsome tiefling man in a lightweight, fantasy wheelchair. The chair has large, splayed wheels suitable for activity. The tiefling looks over his right shoulder and holds a flaming, purple sword. Art by J. Destamtiunm.

If you're a fan of all things Dungeons & Dragons like I am, being both a watcher and a player, then you might have heard about the controversy surrounding the introduction of the "combat wheelchair" into the DnD community. Original credit for the combat wheelchair's home-brew stats traces back to one Sara "Dislocating DM" Thompson in 2020, a disability advocate, wheelchair athlete, and RPG game designer. The game of Dungeons & Dragons is unique in that its rules can be bent and creative initiative is encouraged in combat, roleplay, and character design. While there's plenty of canonical stats and some arithmetic involved, DnD is more like "play pretend" than Monopoly. So, if your character can have a Displacer Beast mount that's cursed with an eternal friend spell, then a character could surely have a wheelchair, right?

That is where many would disagree.

You may have read the question, "If Harry Potter can use magic to fix his glasses, why can't he use magic to fix his eyes?" It's a valid question we never get a straightforward answer for. Whenever a character with a disability or illness appears in a Fantasy or Sci-fi setting, some scoff because they have a hard time believing that disability or major illnesses would even exist in a world with magic or enhanced technology. After all, if magic elixir could repair Ron Weasley's arm after getting splinched, then why shouldn't an elixir repair a complete amputation? If magic can regrow Harry's bones, then why wouldn't it be used to reset spinal damage or dwarfism? If a potion could make somebody fall in love, feel pain, or be lucky, then why shouldn't a potion heal mental illness or chronic discomfort? Hogwarts isn't the most wheelchair friendly campus in the world with its constantly shifting staircases, but surely magic could just fix someone's need for a wheelchair in the first place. Right?

That is where I - and many in the Disabled Community - would have to disagree. The realms of Fantasy, Sci-Fi, and Speculative Fiction are not incompatible with impairments, but rather are a means of complimenting them and amplifying stories that oft go unheard.

In order to understand the combating philosophies of this topic, we must first have a thorough understanding of the Medical and Social Models of Disability.

The Medical Model

The "Medical Model of Disability" is a term referring to a school of thought regarding disability which states that the best way to handle its existence is to cure it. In short, the Medical Model sees impairment as a Problem (with a capital P) which is most effectively handled by doing away with it by seeking cures.

This model is seen in real life where, for example, money is donated to research for curing blindness instead of remodeling cities to be safer for blind pedestrians. It's found where patients are instructed by doctors to first fix their primary diagnoses before receiving treatment for secondary issues. It's found when people are surprised that a disabled person would aspire for a job when she presumably has more pressing concerns. It's found when people hear that a chronically ill person will never be healthy despite all his medications and procedures, but offer recommendations and home remedies anyway.

We see the Medical Model in Fantasy and Sci-Fi too when a character's impairments are treated like an obstacle that must be fixed -- unless the character's disability makes them a "super crip" (think Daredevil), thus justifying the presence of disability in a setting otherwise presumed only accessible to typical, nondisabled characters. A character's healing, by magic or technology, is viewed as a reward or a necessity for them to competently navigate the setting and contribute to the challenges that a Fantasy or Sci-Fi adventure poses.

Leduc writes in her book Disfigured: On Fairy Tales, Disability, and Making Space, how we “support and perpetuate a culture where the emphasis is on the cure rather than societal change — where the aim of the narrative is to eradicate the disabled life rather than change the world so that the disabled life can thrive. The stories we tell need to be different.”

The Social Model

On the other hand, the "Social Model of Disability" understands that not all impairments can be fixed and not all diseases can be cured. The Social Model states that the best way to handle the existence of impairment is to build society around it, instead of erasing it. In short, the Social Model sees impairment as an inescapable fact of life which is most efficiently handled by doing away with difficult infrastructure.

This is seen in real life when most modern construction must be ADA approved. It's when movie theaters provide closed captioning and audio descriptive options for the deaf or blind. It's when healthcare providers focus on helping patients minimize unpleasant symptoms and maximize self-management. And increasingly, it's when businesses allow employees to chose to work from home instead of the office.

In the realms of Fantasy and Sci-Fi, sadly, examples are sparser. But, one example can be seen in the Sci-Fi animated series "Mech Cadets," which features Frank, who is an above-knee amputee and prefers using crutches over a prosthetic. At first, Frank is required to use a prosthetic in order to fulfill his duties as a Mech pilot, but once he is allowed to modify his cockpit and use crutch-like weapons with his Robo Mech, he becomes an even better fighter.

Image Description: Still image of Frank Olivetti, played by Josh Sundquist, using his crutches to fight Shargs.

While the series takes place in a futurized Earth that possesses advanced technology, there is no way to regrow Frank's leg, nor would he want to. Given the adjustments and mobility devices that he needs, Frank is able to excel at Sky Corps and keep up with his fellow cadets, without needing to be "healed." The show overall is top-tier, if you're looking for a great Sci-Fi adventure series that happens to present some of the best amputee representation I've seen in a long while.

As Gailloreto from Screenrant writes, "'Impairments' are rarely something people can control, but 'disabilities' are something that can and should be addressed by societies to create fairness and accessibility for all, whether through making real-life buildings more accessible or introducing tools like Combat Wheelchairs to tabletop RPG settings."

That's the socio-political lingo. But now, we need to dip our toes into terminology from literature.

In the writing world, a work of fiction containing magic can posses one of two types of power or magical systems, Hard Magic or Soft Magic, and it really just boils down to how detailed it is. These "magic" systems can also apply to stories without actual magic, such as superpowers, cybernetics, or bending.

"Hard Magic"

A "Hard Magic System" is one whereby magic has extensive rules and specific limitations. This is the type of system you commonly see in RPGs, high fantasy novels, and some anime. There is an explanation, technique, and price for every spell. Whether it's energy, money, ingredients, rituals, time, souls, or blood, Hard Magic systems require exchanges for smaller spells and sacrifices for bigger ones. Maybe a sorceress only has so much mana to spend every 24 hours, or a warlock has to make a pact with a demon, or a mage has to study spellbooks for years. Whatever the case, Hard Magic systems are costly and, well, systematic. Most people like Hard Magic because it adds believability and complexity to a story, thus making it more immersive.

"Soft Magic"

On the other hand, there's "Soft Magic Systems." Funny enough, this is the type you commonly see in both Disney movies and highbrow literature, as it's easy for kids to follow and leaves room for interpretation. There is magic, and IF (big if) there's a rhyme or reason to it, we don't get to hear it. There are apparently no limits, no tolls, and no explanations for the metaphysical machinations that make casting or powers happen. How can Queen Elsa create massive architecture and life from ice without getting fatigued? How can the "Singers" use music to prophesy events ("Time Considered as a Helix of Semi-Precious Stones" by Samuel R Delany)? We are never explained the rules of these abilities, either because they don't exist or because they are unnecessary in telling the story. In some cases, the mystery adds intrigue, inviting the audience to use their imagination and to dig deeper.

There are people who choose to remain disabled in our own world because they view their disability as a crucial part of their identity and experience as a human. The holy-roller hosts of the "From the Throne" podcast have delved into this idea, explaining how someone with a spinal chord injury may envy somebody else's injury because of placement and mobility. While some would say yes, and others say no, most would at least agree they would like to be rid of any uncomfortable symptoms of their disability, but not the disability itself. For some disabled people, any envy they feel, they may feel towards those who are less disabled, not nondisabled. 

"If I could alleviate the symptoms but had to remain disabled anyway, I would be absolutely fine with that," corroborates disabled blogger Dax. "There are plenty of disabled people who have expressed no desire to be cured, and as such even in a world where magic had the potential to cure any and all ailments (which it clearly doesn’t), disability would still exist. ... Many of the negative experiences that stem from being disabled are a result of inaccessibility and ableism, not disability itself. ... In a world with spells that allow you to teleport like misty step, or to move objects out of your reach like mage hand, steps and high shelves would pose far less of a issue to me than in the real world. Spells wouldn’t eradicate disabled people; they would help us."

Make Anything Possible!

So, even when considering the ins and outs of Hard Magic, Soft Magic, and the adaptable mechanics of most TTRPGs, there are still some who scratch their heads at disability in Fantasy because "it just doesn't seem realistic." If there were no wheelchair lifts in medieval days, then why would there be any in my medieval-inspired Pathfinder campaign? If cybernetic prostheses are a staple of futurism, then wouldn't my Sci-Fi campaign be less cool if characters didn't use them?

As disabled media critic Oakwyrm puts it, "It's a fantasy game with magic and dragons. If your issue with disabled people in DnD is the realism, I don't know what to tell you, except maybe go sit down and think about why that's your automatic reaction."

Even if a fictional world is based on ours, it is and will always be, first and foremost, fictional. Reality was never on the (game) table to begin with. 

As Dax reminds us, "It’s pretend. It’s make-believe with maths. You are getting irate about an imaginary wheelchair for an imaginary person in an imaginary world."

If your concern is the believability of the cause and affect in your imaginary world, then it may indicate your lacking knowledge about fiction as a craft and disability as a common reality.

Deaf writer Ross Showalter explains in his article "Writing Fantasy Lets Me Show the Whole Truth of Disability" how speculative fiction gave him "insight on how to write disability in ways that defied the convention of the weak disabled person" and how "[S]peculative fiction allows us to imagine situations not bound to our rules, and the next step in this literature is to take the opportunity to imagine change, whether on a personal level or on a societal level. In speculative fiction, this change doesn’t have to be bound to our rules either."

Thus, it is well within your power as a creative thinker to invent worlds that do not abide by the same laws of physics or deal with the same societal barriers as ours.

If they sky is the limit, then why are our eyes trained on our noses?

If anything is possible, then why would storming a dungeon in a wheelchair be impossible?