The Godforsaken Zootopia 2 Hallway
In JFK Terminal 7, there is one hallway that I have come to dread.
It’s a bit outside security. It’s not very long; it has a white-tiled floor and low ceiling. The main feature is this: on both walls, a large animated movie trailer is playing. There are pillars in the center; on all four surfaces of each one, the trailer is being displayed in a vertical format. Meanwhile, very bass-heavy speakers blast the area with the trailer’s audio. The first time I passed through this hallway, the trailer shown was for Zootopia 2. As such, it forever became known to me as The Godforsaken Zootopia 2 Hallway.
You may wonder why I don’t have a picture of this hallway to put here. The answer is simple. Every time I have passed through this hallway, I have had my eyes closed and my hands over my ears.
I have sensory processing disorder, or SPD. Essentially, this means that my brain is unable to process sensory input correctly. Loud sounds and large, quickly-moving, brightly-colored visual effects are intolerable. It’s associated with several conditions, including autism, ADHD and dyspraxia.
As one might imagine, The Zootopia 2 Hallway is perfectly designed to cause me extreme distress.
Obviously this hallway should never have been allowed in an airport, especially because it is the only way to reach several gates. Not only is it a hellscape for anyone with SPD, but I imagine that it would also be a problem for anyone suffering from migraine, or other conditions that cause light sensitivity.
20 years ago, something like the Zootopia 2 hallway would have been unthinkable. Go much further back and it would be technologically impossible. In this way, the world has become harder for disabled people to navigate.
This caused me to wonder something. It’s common knowledge by now that the rates of autism diagnosis are increasing, and why that is the case has become a subject of intense debate. Three general categories of theory seem to predominate:
The first posits that something is actually increasing the rate of autism developing. Most often, it’s something physical, like tylenol or vaccines, theories which have been clearly disproven. Less frequently, it’s attributed to environmental factors, such air pollution (See https://pmc.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/articles/PMC5031428/). While less obviously counterfactual, this link has not been proven conclusively - or even close to.
The second theory is that people are being overdiagnosed, or that the criteria for autism is changing in a way that causes people without autism to be eligible for a diagnosis. This theory is often misused, but I don’t think it’s entirely without merit (though that’s its own blog post.) The related idea that people are incorrectly self-diagnosing is almost certainly not universally false. But it puts people in a difficult position, as consulting a qualified neurologist is impossible for many people, and many groups still face stereotype-related barriers to obtaining proper diagnoses.
The third theory posits that the number of autistic people has remained the same, but they’re being diagnosed more often. Of the theories commonly postulated, this is the only one I believe is provably true. Women have often been left undiagnosed because they exhibit fewer “rebellious” behaviors, and black people have been misdiagnosed with behavioral disorders for behaviors that would get autism diagnoses in other people. While both of these are still issues, diagnosis rates among both of these communities have been going up substantially. In addition, neurological care is becoming (at least somewhat) more accessible and less stigmatized. All of this points to the conclusion that many people with autism were not being diagnosed correctly, and that many of these people now are able to get diagnoses. This could be enough to explain rising diagnosis rates by itself, but I’m of the opinion that anything like this is almost certainly not a single-factor issue.
So let me posit a fourth theory. SPD is a significant diagnostic indicator of autism. (As well as ADHD, which has faced significant, if less sensationalized, concerns.) Things like the Zootopia 2 Hallway are becoming increasingly common. In the 80s and 90s, for instance, they didn’t exist outside of theatres. Now, they’re commonly integrated into public spaces that people are forced into for work or travel. What once could be disguised as a preference for less-stimulating spaces is now a significant barrier to access. And as these spaces become more common, people whose sensory tolerance levels were not previously disabling become disabled - and thus, they become inclined to pursue, and eligible for, an autism diagnosis.
This doesn’t mean that people affected by this aren’t actually disabled. In our society they are and should be treated as such. A common argument against the supposed “pathologization” of autism is that the factors that cause autism to be disabling are only created by the current society that we live in. Even if this were the case (which, for most people, it isn’t), it doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t consider these disabilities “real disabilities”, or be willing to provide care and treatment even as we try to create more accessible infrastructure.
If nothing else, not all technology which can adversely affect disabled people is something it’s possible to do without. Certainly, the Zootopia 2 Hallway is an unnecessary and ableist piece of architecture. But the same cannot be said for the design of my dorm room’s fire alarm - which, while it caused pretty much the same effect in me the first time it went off, might be necessary to attract other people’s attention and keep them from serious injury. In that case, it’s not the unnecessary implementation of inaccessible architecture to make a movie company money; rather, it’s the implementation of a piece of useful technology that has unintentional consequences for disabled people.
It’s also difficult to consider this hypothesis because we have very few documented examples of something like this happening. For instance, I could find no data on a documented increase in photosensitive epilepsy diagnoses. Possibly that’s because only around 3% of people with epilepsy have photosensitive epilepsy. Or it’s because photosensitive epilepsy can also be triggered by natural phenomena and much more simple technologies - like some ceiling fans, or sunlight through trees while in a moving vehicle. (Note: Photosensitive epilepsy is only a diagnosis for people who have seizures triggered by certain speeds of flashing light. A lot of people with non-photosensitive epilepsy are photophobic, with bright and/or fast-moving lights causing them pain. Note the coocurrence of epilepsy and migraine.)
(See here and here. The fact that I am citing Reddit, of all places, shows you that more research needs to be done - anecdotal examples tell a story that is perhaps more accurate.
More research is needed to determine wether my theory has any merit. I’m raising it as a possibility that’s underexplored, and not a conclusion that’s correct. Within the scientific community, within communities of people with sensory processing differences, and within the generalized public consciousness, there’s little discussion of the ways in which an environment can determine what is actually disabling. One could certainly make the argument that this is a symptom of a larger issue: the US in particular dislikes acknowledging the ways in which human-caused environmental alterations can impact health or ability. Whatever the cause, I think this potentiality could use more scientific investigation and public acknowledgement. Even if it turns out to be a load of rubbish.
