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| While the 'Revolution' digitizes the horizon for the elite, the rest of us are still waiting for the pavement under our feet to be fixed. |
A recent article in The Hindu, titled "Keeping Humanity at the Centre of the AI Revolution," [Click here for link to the article] raises questions that matter. It asks whether the rapid advance of artificial intelligence systems is moving faster than our collective ability to govern them. It is concerned with the risks of automation displacing labour, with the concentration of technological power in a small number of corporate actors, and with the erosion of human agency in decisions that shape livelihoods and social participation. These are serious concerns. They deserve serious examination.
But the article says a great deal about humanity and very little about a substantial part of it.
Disability does not appear in that conversation. Not once. And that absence is not a minor editorial oversight. It is symptomatic of a much older pattern: disability is admitted into the AI ethics discourse only when someone specifically demands its inclusion. It does not arrive on its own. It has to be carried in, repeatedly, by the same people who bear its exclusion.
This article is that demand.
What the Conversation Is Getting Right, and What It Is Missing
The concern with human-centred AI is not new. Researchers, civil society organisations, and several governments have spent years arguing that artificial intelligence must be designed with people in mind rather than profits or efficiency metrics. The Hindu article reflects this concern well. It draws attention to the fact that AI systems, however sophisticated, are built upon choices made by people. Those choices carry values. Those values carry biases. And those biases reproduce the social conditions that shaped them in the first place.
This is an important argument. It is also, in the disability rights community, an argument we have been making for the better part of a decade.
The AI Now Institute's foundational 2019 report, "Disability, Bias, and AI," made exactly this case. It documented how artificial intelligence systems, when trained on data that underrepresents disabled people, produce outputs that treat non-disabled behaviour as the universal standard. The systems are not neutral. They are calibrated to a particular body, a particular mode of speech, a particular speed of response, a particular pattern of interaction. When disabled users fall outside those calibrations, they are not accommodated. They are rejected.
That report was published six years ago. Mainstream AI ethics commentary in India is still not routinely engaging with it.
The Hindu article's conversation about humanity is, in this sense, a conversation about a subset of humanity. It addresses displacement of labour, questions of democratic accountability, the ethics of automation in public services. All of this is important. But when disability is absent from the frame, what emerges is an incomplete picture of who stands to be most harmed, and therefore an incomplete framework for remedy.
Technoableism Is Not a Technical Problem. It Is a Political One.
The word technoableism was put into sustained analytical use by Ashley Shew, a disability studies scholar and engineer at Virginia Tech, whose 2020 work in IEEE Technology and Society Magazine named the ideology that drives much of what passes for progressive AI design. Technoableism is the assumption that disability is a problem requiring technological elimination. It is the belief that the goal of assistive or accessible technology is to make the disabled person function more like a non-disabled person. It frames difference as defect, and positions the non-disabled body as the ideal towards which all technological development ought to strive.
This ideology does not announce itself. It arrives quietly, encoded into design decisions that no one has bothered to question.
Consider how this operates across the AI development pipeline. When training data for voice recognition systems is assembled, the overwhelming majority of voice samples are from speakers without speech disabilities. The system learns what a voice is supposed to sound like. When a person with cerebral palsy, amyotrophic lateral sclerosis, or a stammer interacts with that system, the system fails. Not because the technology is inherently incapable. Because the people who built it did not think to include the full range of human speech in their model of what a human voice sounds like.
This is Selection Bias. It is also a straightforward act of exclusion. It is not accidental. It is the consequence of disabled people being absent from the design room, the data team, the product meeting, and the ethics board.
The same logic applies to hiring systems that flag disabled communication styles as indicators of low confidence or low performance. It applies to facial recognition systems that fail to accurately identify people with atypical facial features or expressions. It applies to content moderation systems that flag disability-related language as offensive without distinguishing between slurs and community self-identification. It applies to large language models that, when asked to generate disability-related content, produce outputs that are clinical, condescending, and rooted in medical deficit models rather than disability rights perspectives.
Research published in 2025 by Panda, Agarwal, and Patel, introducing the AccessEval benchmarking framework, confirmed that disability bias in large language models is systemic rather than incidental. These are not edge cases. They are structural outcomes.
India's AI Moment and the Disability Rights Framework It Is Ignoring
The Hindu article is written in an Indian context, addressing an Indian readership, at a moment when India is making significant policy commitments around artificial intelligence. The India AI Impact Summit, NITI Aayog's AI governance guidelines, and the government's broader rhetoric about an "AI for All" future all claim a vision of inclusive technological development.
That vision does not hold up to scrutiny when examined from a disability rights standpoint.
India has 2.74 crore persons with disabilities according to the 2011 Census. The true figure is considerably higher by most independent estimates, given systemic undercounting. These individuals are spread across urban and rural geographies, across caste and class divisions, and across 21 categories of disability formally recognised under the Rights of Persons with Disabilities Act 2016. They are also among the most dependent upon digital public infrastructure for access to services, entitlements, information, and economic participation.
Yet NITI Aayog's AI governance documents, as I have argued previously on this platform and in an open letter to the Ministry of Electronics and Information Technology, treat disability as a sectoral afterthought rather than a structural dimension of all AI systems. The guidelines speak of inclusion in general terms. They do not mandate disability-inclusive data collection. They do not require accessibility impact assessments for AI systems deployed in public services. They do not integrate the RPwD Act 2016 into their governance framework. They do not reference the Supreme Court's landmark judgment in Rajive Raturi v. Union of India, which in November 2024 established accessibility as an ex-ante constitutional duty rather than a discretionary accommodation.
The Raturi judgment is significant precisely because it forecloses the kind of argument that AI governance currently makes by implication: that accessibility will be addressed eventually, after the core system is built. The Supreme Court held that accessibility is not a post-hoc retrofitting exercise. It is a baseline requirement that must be built into new infrastructure from the start. That principle applies with full force to AI systems, which are new infrastructure. If it applies to ramps and lifts, it applies to hiring algorithms and speech interfaces.
India's position under the United Nations Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities reinforces this obligation. Article 4(1)(d) of the UNCRPD requires state parties to refrain from engaging in any act or practice that is inconsistent with the Convention, and to ensure that public authorities and institutions act in conformity with it. Article 9 requires accessible information and communication technology as a matter of right. These are not aspirational norms. India ratified the UNCRPD in 2007. The obligations are binding.
When The Hindu publishes a substantive opinion piece about keeping humanity at the centre of the AI revolution, and does not engage with these legal frameworks or the constituencies they protect, it participates in the same pattern of omission that characterises the policy it is critiquing. The critique of AI governance cannot exempt itself from the structural blind spots of AI governance.
The Difference Between Accessibility and Inclusion
There is a distinction that this discourse consistently collapses, and it is a distinction that persons with disabilities experience with considerable personal consequence.
Accessibility determines whether a person can use the system. Inclusion determines whether the system was designed with that person as a full human subject, rather than as an edge case to be accommodated later.
Accessible platforms built upon biased algorithms do not remove barriers. They move the barrier from the interface to the algorithm. A screen-reader-compatible job application portal that feeds into a hiring algorithm trained to penalise atypical speech patterns or non-linear employment histories is accessible in a technical sense and exclusionary in a structural one. The disabled applicant can submit the application. The system will still reject them.
The conversation about human-centred AI must therefore go further than user interface accessibility. It must address the assumptions embedded in the data, the objectives embedded in the optimisation function, and the absences embedded in the design team. Universal Design is not a feature to be added on. It is a methodology of designing from the margins outward, such that systems built to work for the most excluded users tend to work better for everyone.
The curb-cut effect, well documented in both physical and digital environments, illustrates this principle. Features designed for wheelchair users, closed captions developed for deaf and hard-of-hearing users, voice interfaces developed for users with motor impairments: these have consistently expanded usability for the broader population. Disability-led design is not charity. It is better engineering. It is a stress test for inclusion that the mainstream AI development pipeline systematically refuses to conduct.
Nothing About Us Without Us Is Not a Slogan. It Is a Design Requirement.
The principle of Nothing About Us Without Us, central to the disability rights movement since the 1980s, is sometimes treated by technologists as a vague aspirational gesture. It is in fact a precise methodological requirement.
It means that disabled people must be present at the data collection stage, so that training datasets capture the full range of human speech, movement, cognition, and behaviour. It means that disabled people must be present at the design stage, so that the objectives of the system are not calibrated exclusively around non-disabled norms of productivity, efficiency, and interaction. It means that disabled people must be present at the evaluation stage, so that bias audits assess performance across the full spectrum of the population rather than optimising for majority user groups and treating minority outcomes as acceptable collateral.
Research from the AAAI Conference on Artificial Intelligence in 2025, examining ableism in both Western and Indic language models, found that Indian AI systems consistently underestimate the harmfulness of ableist statements. The models reflect the cultural tolerances of the dominant society they were trained on. When that society normalises certain forms of disability-related discrimination, the model inherits that normalisation. Building cross-cultural competence into AI evaluation frameworks is therefore not an academic nicety. It is a basic requirement of fairness for the 2.74 crore Indians whose lives will increasingly be shaped by these systems.
This is the argument that the human-centred AI conversation must make room for. Not as a supplement to the main concern. As part of it.
Conclusion: Incomplete Humanity Is Not Humanity
The Hindu article is concerned about AI doing things to people without their meaningful participation. That concern is legitimate and necessary. But it is also incomplete. Because the people most likely to have AI systems act upon them without their participation, without their input into the training data, without representation in the design team, without recourse in the legal framework, without visibility in the policy document, are disabled people.
Disability is not a niche interest within the AI ethics discourse. It is the discipline's most rigorous test case. If an AI system cannot account for the full range of human bodies, minds, speech patterns, and modes of being in the world, it has not achieved human-centred design. It has achieved able-bodied-centred design dressed in the language of inclusion.
India is at a formative moment in shaping its AI ecosystem. The decisions being made now, about data, design, governance, and accountability, will embed their assumptions into public infrastructure for decades. If disability is absent from those decisions, the resulting systems will not be accessible to 2.74 crore Indians by omission. The omission will be structural and, given the legal frameworks now in place, unconstitutional.
The conversation about keeping humanity at the centre of the AI revolution must therefore include all of humanity. Not as a courtesy. As a constitutional obligation, as a matter of rights, and as a basic condition of the claim that the revolution is being made for people.
Those of us who have spent our lives being treated as edge cases, as outliers, as system anomalies, are not interested in watching another revolution proceed without us. We are the stress test. We are also the users. And it is past time that the mainstream AI ethics discourse remembered both.\
References
- Whittaker, M., Alper, M., Bennett, C.L., et al. (2019). Disability, Bias, and AI. AI Now Institute. https://ainowinstitute.org/disabilitybiasai-2019.pdf
- Shew, A. (2020). Ableism, Technoableism, and Future AI. IEEE Technology and Society Magazine, 39(1), 40-85.
- Panda, S., Agarwal, A., and Patel, H.L. (2025). AccessEval: Benchmarking Disability Bias in Large Language Models. Proceedings of EMNLP 2025. ACL Anthology.
- Phutane, M., Seelam, A., and Vashistha, A. (2025). A Human-Centered Audit of Ableism in Western and Indic Language Models. AAAI Conference on Artificial Intelligence.
- Rajive Raturi v. Union of India and Others, Writ Petition (Civil) No. 4/2005, Supreme Court of India, Judgment dated 8 November 2024.
- Rights of Persons with Disabilities Act, 2016. Ministry of Law and Justice, Government of India.
- United Nations Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities, 2006. Articles 4 and 9.
- Singit, N. (2025). An Open Letter to the Ministry of Electronics and Information Technology: A Critique of the India AI Governance Guidelines on the Omission of Mandatory Disability and Digital Accessibility Rules. The Bias Pipeline. https://thebiaspipeline.nileshsingit.org
- Singit, N. (2026). Technoableism and the Bias Pipeline: How Ableist Ideology Becomes Algorithmic Exclusion. The Bias Pipeline. https://thebiaspipeline.nileshsingit.org
- Singit, N. (2026). TechnoAbleism in India's AI Moment: Why Accessibility Is Not Enough. Moneylife.in / The Bias Pipeline. https://thebiaspipeline.nileshsingit.org
