The Revolution Will Not Be Optimized
On resisting the tyranny of "normal"
[Image description: Provide First Aid to your Comrade and Yourself!, poster by Vladimir Tverdokhlebov, 1972. Blue background with blue square, two human figures in white are side by side reaching up towards a flower with a red cross at its center. Both figures are wearing a flowing red scarf tied at the neck and have a bandage on their arms and the figure on the right side is depicted as wrapping the bandage.]
The Revolution Will Not Be Optimized:
On resisting the tyranny of "normal"
A true communist revolutionary politic must grapple with the material contradictions of capitalism—a system that has long defined worth by a narrow standard of productive labor. This critique is central to any Marxist analysis, but one crucial piece often gets neglected in these conversations: disability. To fail to grapple with disability is to overlook a key component of labor discipline that affects all workers. Disability is not just a category that impacts only those labeled disabled; it is a form of oppression that is inherently linked to the functioning of capitalism itself.
When we fail to integrate disability into revolutionary thought, we ignore the very structures that define who gets to be considered useful and who does not. This oversight isn’t simply ethical or moral; it’s material and has real, tangible consequences for how we understand power, labor, and value.
Capitalism operates through the extraction of surplus value, and at its most basic, this is done by turning bodies into interchangeable instruments of profit for the owning class. Workers, whether we are talking about factory laborers or service workers, are turned into tools for generating wealth for others. Capitalism relies on this system of exploitation, where the bodies of workers are rendered into mere cogs in a machine, useful only for their productive output. But capitalism's logic of exploitation becomes more insidious when we consider the lives of disabled people. Capitalism works by narrowing the definition of productivity, sidelining anyone whose labor doesn’t neatly fit into the systems of extraction that govern the marketplace.
The concept of "productive labor" itself is a limitation—it discounts all forms of care, emotional labor, creativity, and resilience that cannot be easily measured by capitalist metrics. In doing so, it strips away the value of entire sections of the population, turning their lives into something less than human, marginalizing their contributions, and making them expendable.
The idea of “disability” is not a timeless truth—it is, in fact, a social construct born from specific historical conditions. Disability, as a category, was shaped by the needs of the capitalist system to maintain an efficient, streamlined labor force. It is a category constructed to define some lives as “extra” or “nonessential,” and to position them as less valuable in terms of economic production. In capitalist societies, efficiency is the key to profit, and disability disrupts that efficiency.
To understand disability in this way is to see that the exclusion of disabled people from the labor force is not an accident, but a product of the historical needs of capitalism to maximize surplus value. This categorization isn’t fixed; it’s a product of particular economic relations. The system defines certain kinds of labor—and, by extension, certain kinds of people—as disposable, and others as essential to the capitalist order. Challenging this definition of disability is therefore a challenge to the very basis of capitalist exploitation itself. It is not just about creating space for disabled workers; it’s about dismantling the structural conditions that define some people as disposable in the first place.
At the heart of capitalism is the assumption that labor and bodies can be optimized for profit. Even a basic materialist analysis reveals that labor is commodified under this system, and human bodies are the sites upon which this commodification takes place. Capitalism constantly pushes for optimization, efficiency, and the extraction of profit from every possible avenue. But what if we stopped seeing human bodies as objects to be exploited for profit? What if, instead, we saw every form of human labor—whether it’s care work, creative work, or even the labor of navigating the world as a disabled person—as valuable, not because it’s measurable in terms of profit, but because it’s essential to the very fabric of society?
This is where the fight for disability justice intersects with the fight for communism—it is a fight to reclaim the value of all human labor, not just the labor that can be commodified. Disability justice is not a side issue or a moral concession; it is central to any revolutionary project that aims to change the conditions of exploitation and marginalization. It forces us to rethink not just the meaning of work, but the way we value human life itself. We cannot build a truly revolutionary society without recognizing the inherent value in every form of labor, including those forms that capitalism cannot or will not measure.
When we expose the idea of “normalcy” as a capitalist invention, we open up new possibilities for social reorganization. “Normalcy” is not a universal truth, but a social construction rooted in the demands of capitalist production. The idea that certain bodies are more valuable, more productive, or more capable than others is a narrative created to uphold the capitalist order. Normalcy is rooted in the logic of efficiency, which always boils down to extracting more value with less effort.
The problem with this logic is that it doesn’t account for human diversity—it doesn’t recognize that limitations, bio-variability, and interdependency are an essential part of what makes us human. When we begin to see “normalcy” as a capitalist construct, we are forced to rethink the very foundations of capitalism itself. Disability justice is a rejection of the idea that only certain kinds of bodies are useful, and that those who deviate from the norm are disposable. It is a radical act of reimagining society—of shifting priorities from profit-driven productivity to human need.
By recognizing the intrinsic worth of all people, regardless of their ability to conform to capitalist norms, we begin to imagine a different kind of world—a world that is not constrained by the logic of profit and efficiency, but driven by human solidarity, care, and mutual aid.
Integrating disability justice into a revolutionary framework means redefining what it means to work and contribute. Under capitalism, work is defined solely in terms of surplus value—who produces it, how it is extracted, and who benefits from it. But what if we moved beyond this framework entirely? What if we built a society where every form of labor is recognized, not because it generates profit, but because it contributes to the well-being of all people?
In such a society, care work, creative work, and even the labor of surviving and navigating a hostile world would be recognized as equally important as other forms of production. Rather than a system that elevates a select few to generate surplus value, we could create a system where the labor of every person, regardless of their ability to produce surplus, is essential to the functioning of society. This vision does not simply call for accommodations or concessions; it calls for a complete reordering of society’s priorities—where every person is valued for their contributions and their humanity, not their economic output.
The capitalist narrative that paints disabled lives as burdens is deeply embedded in our cultural understanding of labor and value. It’s the same narrative that tells us certain people are “too much” to take care of, that they require resources that would be “better spent elsewhere.” This is the logic of capitalist efficiency, where lives are only valued to the extent that they contribute to profit. But by challenging this narrative, we open up a new way of thinking about human worth.
Disability justice teaches us to see that our capacities are not liabilities, but mere facts of life. Our limitations are part of our shared humanity, and they are essential to creating a world that values care, solidarity, and mutual aid. When we challenge the capitalist framework that has taught us to view disability as a burden, we start to build a society where all forms of labor—whether they are creative, emotional, or physical—are recognized as essential, and where no one is left to struggle alone.
True transformation comes not from superficial changes to existing structures, but from a complete reordering of society. It is not enough to simply create accommodations for disabled people within a capitalist framework; we must redesign society so that everyone’s needs are met, regardless of their ability to conform to capitalist norms.
This is the heart of the fight for disability justice: a society built on care and mutual empowerment, where no one is left behind. This is not about making room for a marginalized group—it’s about recognizing that the conditions of marginalization are built into the fabric of capitalism itself. Changing those conditions means dismantling the structures that perpetuate the idea of some lives as “nonessential,” and replacing them with a new vision of society where care is prioritized, and no one is left to struggle alone.
In the history of class struggle, the working class has often been defined by its ability to produce surplus value. But this definition has always been exclusionary. It has always left out those whose contributions don’t fit neatly into the capitalist framework of production. A revolution that centers disability justice is a revolution that redefines the very notion of labor. It is a revolution that acknowledges the value of every contribution, whether that contribution is measured in surplus value or not.
When we envision a political economy based on the principles of disability justice, we seek to build a society that truly reflects the diverse and complex nature of human labor. Every contribution matters, whether it is the work of a caregiver, an artist, a teacher, or someone simply navigating the world with a disability. Every life is valuable, and that value is not measured by how much profit it can generate, but by how much it contributes to the well-being of all people.
Our vision for a revolutionary society is not one of cosmetic inclusion or token gestures. It’s not about ticking boxes or making minor accommodations. It’s about dismantling the structures that make some lives disposable, and building a society where care is not an afterthought, but the very foundation of our collective existence. Disability justice is central to this vision, because it teaches us that no one’s life should be considered less valuable than anyone else’s. When we challenge the capitalist logic that forces us to measure people’s worth by their ability to generate surplus value, we open the door to a new kind of society—one where every person’s dignity is honored, and where no one is left behind.
Ultimately, embracing disability justice means acknowledging the material roots of our oppression. It means recognizing that the system that marginalizes disabled people is the same system that exploits and oppresses us all. Disability justice is not just about making space for disabled people; it’s about rethinking what labor means, what value means, and what it means to live in a just world.
Our task is to dismantle the systems that perpetuate harm and inequality and to build a world that honors the humanity of every person, regardless of their ability to conform to capitalist norms. It’s a world where every life is valued, where care is prioritized, and where the worth of all human labor is recognized—not because it generates profit, but because it is essential to the flourishing of all.