Many people take flying for granted, but it’s another story for travelers who use a wheelchair. TV presenter, writer, artist and disability advocate Sophie Morgan has made it her mission to champion a fairer, safer deal for everyone. Here’s what she thinks needs to change, fast.
Growing up, my childhood bedroom walls were lined with postcards from my father’s work trips, tacked in order of my dream itinerary. Like a vision board, I glanced at them daily, a promise that my adult life could also one day be filled with adventure.
But when I was 18 years old, this dream was seemingly stolen following a car crash that left me paralyzed from the chest down. The emotional pain was unbearable; I was no longer able to walk. The Great Wall of China, the blood-red dunes of the Sahara, the jagged faces of the Alps… these worlds now represented spaces I’d never get to visit. The postcards were trashed.
Over the past 20 years, my life as a wheelchair user has been dedicated to finding a way back into that girlhood dream. Pushing the limits of my wheels, I’ve made my way into the most surprising terrains; Nicaragua’s jungles, the Maldives’ beaches, the Himalayan foothills, and the Arctic Circle. And, out of my chair, I’ve motorbiked across America, jumped out of planes, scuba-dived, and even been to zero gravity with Zero G in France, each time redefining what travel—and life—looks like for people who can’t walk.
But wherever I set my sights, there is always an enormous barrier to contend with: Flying.
Thankfully, with disability access laws and policies ever-evolving, the world around me has gradually begun to adapt and accommodate disabled people. And I, raring to go, am often at the vanguard of these changes.
Sometimes, that’s been through the proverbial door, whenever or wherever it showed the slightest glimmer of opening, be that in a newly opened luxury wheelchair-accessible safari lodge in Africa or—girlhood fantasy becoming reality—into the Sahara desert on the back of a camel in a specially designed saddle.
Once you’re in your seat, it’s not over if, like me, you are unable to mobilize. It often means starving or dehydrating is the only way to survive the flight as there are no wheelchair-accessible toilets on any aircraft.
But the reality remains that whenever people like me want to take to the sky, we do so with a heady mixture of terror, trepidation and anxiety, each time acknowledging the reality that there’s a chance you might not make it out the other side in one piece.
Issues arise from the moment that passengers with disabilities book a flight. Airline websites can often make the booking process challenging, for example, requiring you to book your assistance on the phone, burying relevant contact information, or worse still, nor providing any. Furthermore, booking assistance can be complex and convoluted, frequently resulting in a refusal to travel should our equipment—such as battery types and sizes, chair dimensions, oxygen or medication restrictions and more—not meet the airline’s requirements.
At the airport, the first challenge is usually the check-in counter. Many of these spaces are not designed with wheelchair users in mind, resulting in awkward interactions and a lack of privacy.
Other insidious attitudinal barriers appear at security checks. Pat-downs, often in full view of other passengers, feel dehumanizing, especially if you have a catheter bag or stoma, inviting invasive questions all under the guise of security measures.
Then there’s the boarding process, a daunting prospect when airplane doors and aisles are narrow, and jetways aren’t level with the cabin floor. The transfer to an ‘aisle chair’ that’s barely fit for a human—and certainly not one who typically requires a bespoke manual or power chair—can be terrifying. It’s akin to being forced into someone else’s shoes—if you imagine those shoes are five times too small, likely to fall off, and someone else is in charge of moving them.
Once you’re in your seat, it’s not over if, like me, you’re unable to mobilize. It often means starving or dehydrating is the only way to survive the flight as there are no wheelchair- accessible toilets on any aircraft. We fly with our hearts in our mouths, and—if we have them—our fingers and legs crossed, until we touch down.
The anxiety ramps up as you wait to see how long it might take for assistance to arrive to disembark you. In some instances, people have been left on board for hours. I was left for longer on more than one occasion as the company in charge of dispatching assistance staff to help me disembark failed to show up on time.
And it doesn’t stop there. When we board, our chairs are forcibly removed from us—this systemic discrimination is permitted in no other form of transport except flying—and taken by ground handlers to manhandle into the hold.
The Assisted Air Travel Act mandates better training for airline staff, a lift on compensation caps for damaged or lost equipment, improved handling of mobility equipment, concessions for travelers’ personal assistants, and much more. It’s a start, but there is still a long way to go.
To demonstrate the inefficiency of this system, 29 wheelchairs are broken every single day in the US. Put another way, our wheelchairs are technically our legs. If that statistic were translated into non-disabled terminology, there would be an outcry. If non-disabled people’s legs were being broken at this rate, the airline industry would have the eyes of the world upon it. But for my community and me, this is a hell-ish reality we often have to grin and bear alone.
The first time my wheelchair was broken, I was so distraught I took to social media, begging for answers and help. I was lucky: The producers of a TV panel show I was working on saw my posts, and gave me space to share my story live on air the following day. A member of the UK parliament was watching, reached out to me, and asked if we could join forces to change this. With that, my campaign ‘Rights on Flights’ took off.
Our first move was to lobby the government to give the UK regulators more punitive enforcement powers to more effectively deter/prevent airlines from discriminating against us. Then, to expedite change, I assembled a team of aviation experts to draft new legislation to protect our rights in the air. The Assisted Air Travel Act was created and presented at the UK Parliament’s House of Commons in September 2023 to a room filled with industry, advocates and decision-makers, including from the White House.
The AATA mandates better training for airline staff, a lift on compensation caps for damaged or lost equipment, improved handling of mobility equipment, concessions for travelers’ personal assistants, and much more. It’s a start, but there is still a long way to go.
The long-haul goal is to have space on board an aircraft for wheelchair users to travel in our chairs, and Rights on Flights has been advocating the use of the Air4 All system designed in collaboration with Delta Flight Products. This solution, which would permit chair users to travel in our chairs using a restraint system, is currently going through the FAA regulation process.
This mission is not just about permitting disabled people the same access to flight; this is also a matter of life and death in some instances. In 2021, a well-loved disability activist, Engracia Figeroa, died after United Airlines broke her wheelchair. Then there are the countless numbers of disabled children and adults who simply cannot fly as aircraft are not designed to accommodate them.
But hope is in the air, and change is coming. Some airports have begun to adopt more accessible designs such as wider security lanes, and have better-trained staff who understand the nuances of assisting passengers with disabilities. In-flight entertainment systems are becoming more accessible, with captions and audio descriptions becoming more common.
But to create an equitable, inclusive, fair and dignified accessible travel experience, we need collaboration across multiple sectors. Airports, airlines, assistance staff, aircraft designers, and manufacturers of mobility aids must work together to ensure seamless accessibility. At the same time, governments and policymakers must hold airlines to account. And we, the community, must continue to speak out, if we are able to.
Traveling as a wheelchair user is an adventure in itself; fraught with challenges, yes, but also with moments of joy and discovery. The progress made so far is encouraging, but we must keep pushing for a more inclusive world. Through collaboration, innovation, and a shift in mindset, we can make travel a liberating experience for everyone, regardless of their abilities.
As I continue to explore the world, I hope that one day, accessibility will not be a hurdle but a given, allowing all of us to dream as big as our imaginations. The sky should never be the limit.
Sophie Morgan’s Fight To Fly airs on UK TV on Channel 4 at 9pm on Monday 22nd July 2024.
In this programme, Sophie and fellow disabled advocates expose the shocking treatment they suffer when flying, and Sophie showcases the groundbreaking solutions needed to make the future of travel inclusive for all.
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A BAFTA-nominated British TV host and presenter, Sophie Morgan is one of the first female wheelchair users to become a TV personality in the UK. Co-founder of Making Space Media, a disabled-led production company, she also leads Rights on Flights, a global campaign for disabled travelers. An award-winning disability rights advocate, she's also the author of bestselling memoir 'Driving Forwards' and writes an accessible travel column in Conde Nast Traveller.
