Monday, December 07, 2009

Wellington... the beauracracy, the suits and the briefcases along Lambton Quay

So, recently I was having a debate about handicapped toilets and, in particular, whether one is required to avoid using the handicapped toilet if one is not disabled. Now, there seems to be a consensus that, if a line is present, obviously you yield to the disabled person to use the handicapped toilet.

The stickier issue is when no one else is around. Do you go ahead and bask in the roomy interior of the handicapped stall? What if a disabled person were to come in while you were 'engaged'?

Some people would feel so awkward on exiting the stall into an otherwise empty restroom only to find a disabled person waiting that they avoid the handicapped stall entirely. I am of a different opinion which, put succinctly, is this: unless your disability is that you cannot hold it, I'm allowed to use that stall.

This begs another question - what if your disability is that you cannot hold it? Shouldn't there be provision for you? Just like there are handicapped parking spaces for those who require larger spaces or closer access, shouldn't there also be a stall reserved for those who require quicker access?

Of course, this would require some sort of certification, because people cannot be trusted to use the honour system. Which means that you would have to go to some bureaucrat and explain your inability to hold it in order to be certified eligible to use the 'quick access' stall. And you'd probably need proof of some sort. This is likely to be undesirable for most. Still, you could give physicians the authority to issue such certifications, which means that a person needing one could obtain it in a slightly more comfortable environment.

Even so, like a handicapped parking pass, an individual so certified would need some sort of documentation to display in order to take advantage of the 'quick access' stall. It could be a badge or a card or a sticker or a certificate. But you would still have to show people. Which led me to the inevitable conclusion that the only way for this system to work means that an individual so afflicted would have to regularly show complete strangers some sort of identification that basically says, 'Hi. I pee myself.'

This is likely to be a less than palatable solution.

You know, people ask me what I do all the time. And when I tell them I'm a policy adviser, half of them know exactly what that means (this being Wellington, after all) and the other half give me a blank smile that tells me inside they're thinking, 'policy what now?'

I've decided when I get the latter reaction in the future, I'm going to relay this story. Because, really, that's all policy is anyway. Somebody has an idea and then hands it off to someone like me to scope it out, look at all the possibilities, evaluate the likely outcomes, identify risks and benefits and, ultimately, decide whether the idea is dumb or not.

The 'I pee myself' badge, I have decided, is a dumb idea. Or, in policy speak, 'not a preferred option'.

0 Comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]

<< Home