A Movement, Not a Gift

The story of the DDA begins long before 1995. Throughout the 1980s and early 1990s, whilst introduction of legal protections through the Race Relations Act 1976 and Sex Discrimination Act 1975 has started to happen, disability, as a characteristic, remained unprotected. Between 1979 and 1995, more than a dozen attempts to pass anti-discrimination legislation failed in Parliament. The government's position was clear: discrimination against disabled people either didn't exist, or wasn't serious enough to warrant legal intervention.

Disabled people knew differently. The British Council of Organisations of Disabled People (BCODP) documented the reality through research funded by the Joseph Rowntree Foundation, using the government's own statistics to prove what disabled people experienced daily. The evidence was undeniable, yet still the government resisted.

When the government ignored its own data, disabled people were forced to get more creative with action. Disabled people took to the streets. In the early 1990s, thousands of protesters, led by groups like the Disabled People's Direct Action Network (DAN), transformed the fight for civil rights into a highly visible campaign. They didn't ask politely for inclusion; they demanded it. Protesters handcuffed and chained themselves to buses outside Parliament...

Their slogan was uncompromising: "Piss on Pity." They rejected charity telethons and the patronising narrative that painted disabled people as objects of sympathy rather than citizens entitled to rights. More than 100,000 people joined demonstrations demanding the bill's passage. Barbara Lisicki, a founding member of DAN, explained in 2015: "We brought people together who had had enough of not having any protection against discrimination."

What the Act Changed, and What It Revealed

When John Major's Conservative government finally passed the DDA in 1995, it came into force with mixed reactions. The Act made it unlawful to discriminate against disabled people in employment, access to goods and services, and the management of premises. It introduced the groundbreaking concept of “reasonable adjustments”, an active requirement for employers and service providers to remove barriers, rather than simply avoiding discrimination.

Yet many in the disability rights movement saw it as inadequate. Rachel Hurst, activist and former director of Disability Awareness in Action, called it "The Train Spotters Charter" because "you could now stand on the platform but you couldn't get on the train." The Act exempted small employers and initially excluded public transport entirely. Crucially, it placed the financial burden of enforcement on disabled individuals, who had to take their own cases to court, an impossible barrier for many.

Still, the Act represented something transformative: recognition that disability is created by society, not by individual impairment. This was the social model in legislation, acknowledging that the problem isn't the person in the wheelchair, it's the steps with no ramp. It is the information available only in print. And the assumption that everyone moves through the world in the same way.

Getting from A to B: Transport and Real Access

Transport provisions came late to the DDA framework, added through the Disability Discrimination Act 2005. But when they arrived, it should have fundamentally changed how disabled people could move through the North East and beyond.

Yet access remains, at best, uneven, particularly in the North East where geography presents unique challenges. The region combines major urban centres like Newcastle, Sunderland, and Middlesbrough with vast rural and semi-rural areas. A buses with a ramp, if they indeed do have a ramp, mean little if that bus doesn't run regularly, or at all, through rural Northumberland or County Durham. Accessible rail services are still inconsistent, with ticket offices closing and the persistent lack of level access. The “promise” of assistance can mean long waits, missed connections, or being told a mobility scooter isn't permitted.

Getting from A to B isn’t just about infrastructure. It’s about whether disabled people can get to work, attend appointments, visit friends, participate in their communities. When transport fails, so does participation, and so does the living of a good life.

Being Respected: More Than Words

The DDA made direct discrimination unlawful, but legislation alone cannot dismantle attitudes built over centuries. Being respected means more than legal protection from discrimination, it means being seen as whole people with contributions to make, not problems to solve.

Thirty years on, disabled people still face disproportionate rates of hate crime, harassment, and abuse. Representation in media and leadership remains limited. The language of “burden” and “tragic” persists, even as disabled people build businesses, create art, develop policy, and lead movements. Respect means recognising that disability is part of human diversity, that disabled people enrich communities, that access benefits everyone.

The social model teaches us this: there is nothing inherently limiting about using a wheelchair, being Deaf, having a learning disability, experiencing mental distress, or living with chronic illness. The limits are imposed by a society that assumes a single “normal” way of being. True respect means dismantling that assumption.

Join the Conversation

This Disability History Month (15th November – 15th December), Difference North East is running a series of events exploring disability history, rights, and culture in our region. Whether you're a disabled person looking to connect with community, or an ally committed to building a more inclusive North East, we invite you to participate.

Our events will create space for disabled people to share knowledge, celebrate achievements, and strategise for the future. Because thirty years after the DDA, the work of building a truly accessible society remains unfinished.

The activists of the 1990s didn't wait for permission to demand their rights. Neither should you.