Baroness Grey-Thompson (CB)

My Lords, I thank all those who have contributed to the debate on this group of amendments on raising AS in conversation and preliminary discussion, including training. I thank the Minister for her response to my amendments. However, given the government response and the question about funding, it lays open the bigger question of the whole Bill that many of us are grappling with: who pays for this and what that final bill may be. The debate has gone in a slightly different direction from what I expected. It is interesting that the noble and learned Lord, Lord Falconer, differentiated in his response between non-disabled and disabled people. Independent advocates will come up in a later group, but I think it is really important that it is understood, as part of this group, when we are talking about learning disabilities, that it may be very difficult for someone with a learning disability to understand what an independent advocate is and what their role is. They may say that they do not need it but not really understand what they are saying yes or no to. We will cover that next week. I am slightly worried that there may or may not be guidance from the GMC and/or the Secretary of State. I will be very interested to discuss that with the noble and learned Lord away from this Chamber. This is where we probably disagree. Those who support this Bill will talk about Victoria and say that it gives greater access; I say it is a slippery slope and that it is making it easier for a wider group of people to enter this process. We have covered in previous amendments the use of language. “Person with a disability” is not used in the Equality Act. I had hoped, through my contributions to previous debates, that there was some understanding of it and why organisations of and for disabled people are worried about this Bill. It is not just about the contents of the Bill; it is about the language of the Bill. Organisations of and for disabled people use the social model. I will not go through that again, but the language they choose to use is “disabled people”. The noble Lord, Lord Weir, has apologised for having to leave, but he raised the issue of how disabled people are treated. I am going to raise a difficult question, not to anyone in particular but to the whole Chamber. It is rhetorical. How many in your Lordships’ Chamber have ever felt sorry for me because I am a wheelchair user? My previous career as an athlete negated some of that feeling because, if you like sport, competing for Great Britain is a privilege: of course it is. In my second career, however, I consider the way that I am treated every single week. I am a long way from my sporting career now but, if I am rushing to a meeting, I luckily do not hear “It is not a race” too often these days. I know: I am not in my racing chair and I am not wearing Lycra. I am not sure sometimes, when people say this, whether they think they are being kind, sweet or funny. I did not have a traumatic or dramatic accident; I was a wheelchair user from a very young age. There were a few points in my life when I had three spinal surgeries and experienced terrible pain, but I am healthy. The noble Lord, Lord Weir, raised the different views that doctors have of people. I have said before that my husband had a traumatic accident at 21. He broke his back and spent nine months in hospital. Many people assumed that it irreparably changed his life. It did not. He went on to complete his PhD. He changed sports; he went from cycling to wheelchair racing and he met me. But the way that he was and is treated is very different depending on whether he is walking with his crutches or is occasionally using a wheelchair. If he is walking, people like to think that he has had a skiing accident or something quite cool but, when he is in his wheelchair, people talk down to him. His colleagues have completely forgotten that he has a PhD and have talked to him differently. He had a stroke in 2020 and I was really worried about him going into hospital because I was not sure of the outcome. I had calls with doctors telling me about the impact of the stroke. The noble and learned Lord talks about doctors needing to know all the information. It was really clear in his patient notes that he had a spinal cord injury, but the doctors rang to tell me that both of his legs were really badly affected, and I was saying, “Well, that would be the spinal cord injury”. They then told me that his grip strength was really good. Well, 30 years of doing wheelchair racing and cycling and walking with crutches would make that happen; they had no idea what his grip strength was like before he had the stroke. So the information they were giving both of us was not very helpful at all. All our experience of healthcare is very different. I had a doctor in a spinal unit ask me, “How did you catch spina bifida?” I laughed. I have been asked it several times. I think the first time was when I was in my early 20s, and I said I had caught it with a butterfly net—humour does not always go down very well, either in the Chamber or outside. I was really shocked that a doctor in a spinal unit was asking me how I caught a congenital disability. Because of my scoliosis, my internal organs are all in rather strange places in my body. Every time I go to the hospital for a kidney scan, I am asked, “Do you have one kidney?” I say, “I have two kidneys; look at the notes”. “Are you sure?” “Yes. I haven’t had an operation to remove one of my kidneys”. Every time you are measuring what you say because you do not want to offend doctors and you do not want to be rude or flippant. I sit there and say, “I have two kidneys. My right kidney is somewhere up under my arm”. “It can’t be there”. “Look at my notes”. Eventually, they find my kidney somewhere up underneath my right arm. This is the frustration that disabled people feel. It is lovely to say that doctors will read all the notes and understand them, but actually something as basic as “I have two kidneys” is often misunderstood. So I challenge your Lordships’ Chamber. Have you ever pitied me? Do you think I am brave? Do you ever think, “Well, at least it’s not me?” Am I brave as a wheelchair user or brave because I was an athlete? How many people consider that, because of my impairment, I suffer? I apologise for sighing when the noble and learned Lord talked about the suffering of disabled people. My phone started pinging. I cannot read out any of the responses or the messages I have had on that, as all the language is unparliamentary. This is why disabled people are scared. The assumption is that we suffer. I do not suffer. Disabled people are worried. That is why they are fighting this Bill. It is not kind, it is not sweet, it is not being understanding, it is not being compassionate. We are constantly having to try to fit into a version, an idea, of what non-disabled people think of us. If we dare challenge that, we have a chip on our shoulder, and we are one of those funny disabled people who just do not understand that we are meant to deal with people being kind to us. We have to deal with being patted on the head, literally and figuratively. It once happened to me in this building. It was a Peer who did it to me. I was with colleague who was a wheelchair user and we were chatting about a Bill that we were working on. The Peer came up to us and said, “Are you having a nice time?”—in that tone. We said, “Yes, actually, we’re debating the Bill that we’re working on at the moment”. The Peer ruffled my hair. This is patronising. This is ableist. It is not kind. How does the noble and learned Lord assume that people like me “suffer”? I am really squeamish about the word. So many people are frightened because of the assumptions that are constantly made. I want to take my challenge further. How do you see disabled people who might be on the streets? Are we deserving and undeserving disabled people? That happens between Paralympians and non-Paralympians. My noble friend Lady Campbell of Surbiton talked about DNRs being put on healthy disabled people. By virtue of how people who speak remotely are able to contribute, my noble friend and the noble Lord, Lord Shinkwin, were not able to come back into the debate. My noble friend wanted to make it clear that she has to rely on doctors for everything in terms of her well-being. We put huge trust in those people. My noble friend has been in hospital many times, and it is important to listen to her experience of what it is like. I will keep raising this in terms of how I am able to contribute in debates. I can sit in one place—well, three places—in the Chamber. I cannot sit with my colleagues. Those speaking remotely cannot come back and ask questions. There was one time in the time that I have been here when five wheelchair users wanted to speak in a debate. We had to tag-team in and out of the Chamber. How many other noble colleagues have had to do that? My noble friend Lady Campbell wanted to reiterate the unequal nature of the system. She also wanted to draw attention to a BMA survey looking at doctors and medical students who are disabled or have long-term health conditions. It was published on 3 December 2025. The author, Natasha Wilcock, is deaf. It raised the ableism that exists in that profession. The assumption is that the barriers are from patients, but actually there are deep-rooted issues in the experience of doctors who are disabled. A huge amount of prejudice comes from other doctors. The noble Lord, Lord Shinkwin, again, was not able to come back in, but he wanted to raise a couple of points. He asked me to say that the noble and learned Lord did not answer any of his questions and that he would be happy if he could write to him. If you treat your disabled colleagues with prejudice and contempt—sorry, I am again referring to the BMA survey—how do doctors treat disabled patients? The equity of treatment of staff and of patients is inextricably linked.