For instance, ableism and racism intersect when societal structures equate physical ability or intelligence with racial stereotypes. In education, people of colour could face biases that question their cognitive abilities, resulting in lower expectations, unequal access to advanced learning opportunities or inappropriate placement in special education programs. This highlights the way ability is judged and distributed unfairly, perpetuating inequity.

Also, ableism and sexism can intersect to marginalize women in sports, where endurance and physical strength are usually prioritized as masculine characteristics. Women, especially ones with disabilities, could face limited opportunities to receive recognition or participate in athletic environments.

Arora and Wolbring’s concepts of ‘ability security’ and ‘ability identity security’ propose that people should be allowed to thrive and succeed with their various abilities and feel at ease with them. When ableism intersects with other forms of oppression, it denies individuals this right and keeps broader societal inequities alive.

While these tests are useful for raising self, awareness, their validity and reliability are still under review. One major criticism is that implicit biases do not always translate into real-world behaviours. One might show bias on the test but act unbiased in practice or the opposite. Results can also vary based on mood, context or repeated exposure, making them less stable as time passes by.

Regardless of these limitations, IATs are still able to serve as a starting point for discussion and self-reflection. They can help people realize they have hidden prejudices and encourage institutions to integrate bias training. But, addressing ableism or any other form of discrimination needs more than just awareness. It requires inclusive policies, structural changes and proper engagement with marginalized communities.

Overall, while IATs and similar tests should not be viewed as definitive measures of bias, they can be crucial tools when paired with other strategies to promote equity and inclusivity.

Crip theory challenges stereotypical and traditional understandings of disability by reclaiming ‘crip’ as a term of resistance and empowerment. This is important to me because it analyzes lived experiences of disabled peoples, critiques ableism and promotes intersectional viewpoints. This framework strives for more accessible, more inclusive spaces and combats societal norms surrounding ability and difference.

Grouping by ability puts an emphasis on performance and skill level instead of impairment. This approach may advocate for greater inclusion by implementing disabled athletes into mainstream sports based on their individual competencies. But problems could arise when considering how to fairly assess ability, given that sports have been designed surrounding able-bodied norms. Without the proper modifications, disabled athletes could still face barriers that prevent real inclusion.

A hybrid of the two may be the most effective solution. This would me integrating athletes where possible while still providing specialized competition for individuals who need it. For instance, adaptive divisions within mainstream sports may allow disabled athletes to compete based on ability rather than other factors. Overall, the aim should be to create a sporting culture that takes pride in valuing unique abilities while challenging ableist structures that restrict participation. Access and meaningful opportunities are needed to create true inclusion, allowing all athletes to compete and thrive.

Gender also plays a vital role in shaping this version of supercrip.  In contrast to the ‘inspirational’ supercrip seen in Paralympic media, the Murderball athletes personify a hyper-masculine form of disability. Aligning with traditional male ideals, they emphasize sexual prowess, toughness and aggression. The film focuses on their rejection of pity, competitive nature and physical confrontations. But this still falls into the trap of ableist masculinity.

Because Murderball just modifies ableist expectations rather than completely escaping them, Mattlin’s criticism is appropriate in this case. The athletes are “inspirational” for their aggressiveness, dominance, and sexual activity rather than just for their existence. This supports a limited definition of disability identity, one that prioritizes toughness over a more inclusive, broad definition of masculinity, competition over teamwork, and strength over vulnerability. In a truly inclusive sports culture, disabled men would be allowed to define masculinity according to their own standards, which would include talent, strategy, teamwork, and self-expression, rather than merely aggression or domination.