Some Thoughts on Disability in Doctor Who

I’ve written before about race in the Whoniverse, as well as LGBTQ inclusion (although both are rather out of date now – since then, Bill became the first queer full-time companion, and series 11 addressed race in greater depth than probably the rest of the series to date.) I’ve also written more than one post about Who and gender, and not just since Thirteen arrived. However, there’s another side of representation that doesn’t get as much play or mainstream commentary as the other three: disability.

Unless there’s someone else I’ve forgotten, the first character with a disability on Who was Elliot in the Silurian two-parter from series 5. He’s a boy with dyslexia, and I still love how warmly Eleven replies, “That’s all right; I can’t make a decent meringue,” when Elliot admits to the Doctor that he has trouble writing. Series 5 also includes “Vincent and the Doctor” and deals with van Gogh’s unnamed mental illness in a caring way. The episode depicts how Vincent is ostracized in the village because of his struggles and that depression isn’t something that a person can just “pull themselves out of” by keeping their chin up. (I should point out, that, that a later episode tries to tie Vincent’s illness into a more genre-tropey idea of having “visions,” which I don’t appreciate. Especially since van Gogh was a real person, it feels disrespectful.)

Series 7 brings us “The Crimson Horror” and Ada. For starters, here’s a blind character played by a sighted actress – no, that’s not exactly out of the ordinary even today (say hi to Charlie Cox and Donnie Yen, and at this moment, I very literally can’t remember how many blind characters Tony Leung Chiu-wai has played,) but it’s still worth mentioning. It’s also very “tragic disabled character,” since Ada is controlled and gaslighted by her cruel mother and sympathizes deeply with “monsters,” plus her blindness itself has a sad and terrible origin story. In fairness, the story is set in Victorian times, when society was even less accommodating to people with disabilities than they are now, and the episode culminates in Ada getting out from under her mother’s thumb. Overall, the portrayal is sympathetic and the story ends hopefully, but it’s also kind of tropey, so it’s a mixed bag.

After that, “Mummy on the Orient Express” in series 8 features some plot-related references to a number of physical and psychological conditions, but it’s in series 9 that we see the beginning of an increase in significant one-shot characters with disabilities, along with those characters being played by actors with disabilities. Now, when I say “an increase,” I mean roughly one character a season, so it’s not like we’re seeing a real swell in representation. Still, that’s (sadly) quite a bit more than the majority of shows I watch, so it’s still important to see.

Now, I’m talking about Cass in “Under the Lake” / “Before the Flood, played by Sophie Stone (series 9,) Erica in “The Pyramid at the End of the World,” played by Rachel Denning (series 10,) and Hanne in “It Takes You Away,” played by Ellie Wallwork (series 11.) While these episodes have their quibbles (with Cass, it still annoys me that the Doctor “speaks baby, horse, and dinosaur,” but not British Sign Language,) but on the whole, these portrayals are great. Cass does a fine job as acting commander of the base and is a total badass, and the whole crew is perfectly fine communicating with her through an interpreter. It’s casually shown that Erica is married to a guy of average height, and she’s smart and intuitive enough that Twelve low-key propositions her to become a companion. Hanne may bear a few similarities to Ada (she too has been controlled and gaslighted by a parent, although her dad isn’t in his right mind when he does it,) but she’s also brave, stubborn, and willing to do anything to find her dad. In the case of all three characters, their disability factors into their story but isn’t the sum total of their story, and each episode features an actor with a disability playing someone intelligent or bold enough to impress the Doctor. Unless I’m blanking, series 12 doesn’t feature any actors with disabilities, but “Can You Hear Me?” spotlights mental health and the importance of normalizing conversations about depression.

Finally, we have Ryan, who in series 11 becomes the first companion with a disability. As far as I can tell, Tosin Cole, who plays him, doesn’t have dyspraxia, so that’s a bit of a step back, but he’s similar to Cass, Erica, and Hanne in that his disability is a part of his character but doesn’t define him. Ryan’s dyspraxia comes up on the show in little ways, like his difficulty climbing ladders and his dismay that ladder-climbing seems to come up more often than normal in the life of a companion. I love the scene in “Kerblam!” when, faced with the tricky prospect of having to jump down a package chute and then ride on a conveyor belt, he hastily/awkwardly comes out as dyspraxic to Charlie. I think Ryan is the first TV character I’ve ever seen with dyspraxia, and for people who have it, I’m sure it feels good to see a character like them running around on Doctor Who being heroic, especially for kids.