Here is a haunting story about a man who, as a child, had a lobotomy.  It did not blank out his personality, as we might think when we hear the term. As he says, it didn’t "touch his soul."  But it reminds me of how, as a society – and I guess this is true in other places besides the US – we seem to be unable to make the social and political adaptations required for care of the mentally ill or disabled.  Instead, we look for quick medical fixes – in the fifties it was lobotomies and electric shock; in the new century it is drugs, drugs, drugs – to quiet them, to manage them, to keep them from intruding on the orderliness of our busy modern lives.  And that desire for the easy out invariably leads to cases of unnecessary medical intervention:

The operation was originally intended as a last resort for intractable
patients, especially those in mental institutions before the advent of drugs
like Thorazine made such patients easier to manage. But Dr. Freeman eventually
expanded his practice to include patients who suffered from nothing more than migraine
or postpartum depression.
All told he performed some 3,000 lobotomies, including some on children as young
as 4 , whom he believed to be suffering from the early onset of
schizophrenia.

    I think what lurks behind such impulses (a lobotomy for a 4 year old?) is our tendency to define humanity in terms of a relatively narrow range of capabilities required for success in business or education or sports or entertainment.  We assume that all people ought to be energetic entrepreneurs or bright students or hard-working athletes.  If one fails in all of these areas he is below average, perhaps abnormal.  We even judge children this way. 

   Of course, it can be wonderful when humans excel intellectually or economically or physically.  But we must always recognize that the best and the brightest are not a norm for all humanity.  If we set that standard, we will tacitly come to accept lobotomies for mothers with postpartum depression.

     A diffuse Taoist sense of things, I believe,
recognizes a vast array of human experience.  The disabled, from this perspective, are not
abnormal, they are simply unique expressions of humanity and, as such,
deserve as much respect and attention and care as the smartest and most
beautiful among us. 

    Instead of down and dirty medical "answers," we
should think about how society at large might be adapted to provide the
human care necessary to support the mentally disabled among us.  Might
there be organizations that could provide, free of charge, trained attendants and aides
who could help families manage the challenges posed by mental illness?
Might businesses be more open and adaptable in allowing mentally ill employees
and their family members the time and resources necessary to meet
periodic crises?  Might we relax our obsession with productivity to
recognize the full value of each disabled person?

    If we started from a recognition of what humanity really is – a wonderful jumble of unique combinations abilities and disabilities – instead of an idealized standard of what it should be, we might do better at creating a society that nurtured all of us together.