Crippled grace: disability, virtue ethics, and the good life

In Crippled Grace, Shane Clifton brings four fields into conversation – the virtue tradition in moral philosophy, disability studies, Christian theology (from a Roman Catholic perspective), and positive psychology – to investigate virtue, happiness, and the good life for people with disabilities. This work asks ‘What does it mean for people with disabilities (and all of us fragile humans) to flourish, and what are the personal and social virtues needed to make that possible?’ (16).

Clifton introduces the book’s focus on flourishing by first examining the conditions of pain and suffering that interfere with well-being and that pose a problem for theodicy (why a good God permits evil) and theology (study into the nature of the divine). His discussion includes a social context where disabled people are marginalized and where human bodies are inherently vulnerable. In addition to synthesizing extensive theoretical content, throughout the book Clifton reflects on adjusting from non-disabled life to living with quadriplegia, and integrates other first-person narratives of disability (chapters one, four, and eight). He does this to encourage us to test how his analyses hold up against disabled people’s real lives, including how his insights might apply to our own experiences.

In chapter three, Clifton reviews the logic and essential concepts of virtue theory by analysing the work of Greek philosopher Aristotle, theologian Thomas Aquinas, the Hebrew scriptures, and the New Testament in relation to happiness, flourishing, and virtue. In this mapping, Clifton emphasizes how historical work in the virtue tradition has undermined the lives and goals of disabled people: Aristotle inferred that those with disabilities cannot fully exercise the virtues and are thus incapable of flourishing, and framed the provision of care as virtuous and the receipt of care as shameful; and Aquinas’ key virtue of temperance (self-control) can, as Nietzsche argues, keep us under control.

Chapter five turns to positive psychology, its indebtedness to the virtue tradition, and the empirical evidence it provides in support of virtue theory by measuring (and identifying central factors that affect) the quality of life of disabled people. Clifton also mentions the relevance of particular emotions/virtues for disabled people: the importance of humour and pride in challenging negative views of disability; anger, frustration, and despair in agitating for social change; and how gratitude and forgiveness, while traditionally understood as virtuous, may work to entrench the subservience of disabled people.

Chapter six engages with contemporary writing on virtue theory responsive to issues of disability and the good life, starting with Alasdair MacIntyre’s critique that virtue theory fails to recognize human fragility and dependence. While Clifton appreciates this contribution, he challenges MacIntyre for theorizing the virtues of caring, but not those related to receiving care. MacIntyre also theorizes independent practical reasoning as important for a good life. Notably, rather than subvert or dismantle the virtue tradition’s common emphasis on independence and reason as essential to flourishing, Clifton defends the importance of individual moral agency. He argues that self-determination and ‘the right and capacity of every person to control the shape of their own future’ (195) are central to the social model of disability and thus need to be preserved in the virtue theory he develops. Clifton describes in detail how his view of independence and moral agency are inclusive of those with cognitive disabilities and extensive care needs who may be perceived as incapable of independence. He then turns to a capabilities approach to human flourishing (Martha Nussbaum and Amartya Sen), which recognizes that while impairment may restrict disabled persons from expressing each of the capabilities in full, everyone is capable of flourishing in some spheres, especially with supportive social conditions.

Chapter seven explores the role of sexuality (and love, friendship, and intimacy) in disabled people’s flourishing and argues that Christian sexual ethics need to better support the sexual citizenship of disabled people. In chapter nine, Clifton reclaims the virtue of humility, relating it to disability-relevant analyses of pride, anger, and forgiveness. He suggests that letting go of control (humility, vulnerability) has significance for disabled people’s flourishing. The book ends with a disabled account of faith.

Crippled Grace positions itself as a work of Christian theology that is also intended for a non-Christian readership. Although I am unqualified to evaluate its theological success, this emphasis is certainly foundational throughout. Scholars in the secular academy and field of disability studies might base their exclusion of this book from their reading list on these grounds; however, while a secular audience may find parts slow moving, given the important work Clifton does to translate disability studies to theology, Crippled Grace makes several noteworthy contributions to non-theological disability studies as well. First, the book develops a compelling case for how the virtue tradition has political significance, and may play an important role in liberation when reinterpreted by and for disabled people. Second, Clifton carefully synthesizes the expansive territory of virtue theory, which is perhaps especially helpful for those of us disinclined to read source texts with theological or psychological associations. Crippled Grace belongs in our library of ethics as envisioned by disabled people – exemplifying how disabled people actively develop and enact virtues for living a good life specific to our realities.

Clifton does not apply his theory to the flourishing of Mad people, acknowledging his lack of expertise in this area. He does, however, offer a generative framework for those better positioned to undertake this work. One caution I would offer, especially for those reading with madness in mind, is that Clifton does bolster his arguments with the ‘scientific’ ‘evidence base’ of positive psychology. While he acknowledges psychology’s historical focus on disability as a deficit in his positioning of positive psychology as an improvement, Crippled Grace minimally engages with Disability Studies and Mad Studies challenges to this contested terrain. As a Mad person nervous about both theology and psychology, I am most appreciative of how Clifton’s work can accompany the discussion of psycho-emotional harms produced by disability oppression (Reeve 2012). Clifton’s scholarship invites us to simultaneously recognize the ontological/emotional virtues we develop in our struggles for justice.

Alise de Bie
School of Social Work, McMaster University, Hamilton, Canada
[email protected]