POSIWID: The Assault on Section 504 and the True Purpose of American Governance

"The Purpose of a System is What It Does" - Stafford Beer

“The assault on Section 504 isn’t just about trans rights—it’s a systemic attack on disability protections. In Texas v. Becerra, the system reveals its purpose: to serve profit & patriarchy over equity. Solidarity is our path forward.”

Introduction

“The purpose of a system is what it does.” This observation, from the cybernetician Stafford Beer, has stayed with me since I first encountered it. In a 2001 speech at the Universidad de Valladolid in Spain, Beer elaborated, “This is a basic dictum. It stands for bald fact, which makes a better starting point in seeking understanding than the familiar attributions of good intention, prejudices about expectations, moral judgment, or sheer ignorance of circumstances.” For me, as an autistic gestalt processor, this framework has been invaluable. Autistic people are often particularly vulnerable to gaslighting and propaganda, our ways of processing the world making us susceptible to what others present as “truth.” Beer’s dictum helped me cut through this noise, encouraging me to see systems for what they are, not what they claim to be. It has allowed me to find clarity in a world that so often tries to obscure its true intentions.

One system that stands starkly illuminated by Beer’s dictum is Section 504 of the Rehabilitation Act of 1973. Enacted to prohibit discrimination against disabled individuals, it was, and remains, a landmark achievement for disability rights in the United States. It ensures that people with disabilities, including students, are afforded accommodations that allow them to access education, employment, and public spaces on equal footing with their peers. Yet, as with all hard-won victories, Section 504 has been a constant target for those who find its principles inconvenient or threatening. In their eyes, inclusion is not a moral imperative but a financial burden, a disruption to the status quo of profit and exclusion.

Today’s article explores the roots of Section 504, the origins of the attacks against it, and the historical patterns that reveal the system’s true purpose. From the government’s enduring role in upholding patriarchy and capital, to the current assault on the rights of disabled and trans people, these events are not anomalies but consistent with what the system does. As a trans and autistic teacher, these attacks are not abstract—they are deeply personal. By understanding this history and its implications, we can better resist the forces trying to claw back hard-fought rights.

The Roots of Section 504

The Rehabilitation Act of 1973 was a milestone in American civil rights history. At its heart was Section 504, the first federal law to prohibit discrimination against disabled individuals. It required any programme or entity receiving federal funding to provide equal access and accommodations for disabled people. Simple in its language, its implications were revolutionary, opening doors that had been closed to millions. Section 504 laid the groundwork for later protections, like the Americans with Disabilities Act, yet it remains, even now, one of the most consequential provisions in advancing the rights of disabled individuals.

Yet the framing of Section 504 has always been revealing. Its achievements are often described in terms like those on Wikipedia: “Section 504 created and extended civil rights to people with disabilities.” Such phrasing suggests that these rights were granted by the government, as though they did not exist until benevolently bestowed. But herein lies the peril: rights granted by government can just as easily be taken away. This contrasts sharply with the moral truth that all people are born with full and equal rights. It is systems—capitalism, patriarchy, and white supremacy—that strip these rights away, doling them out selectively to maintain power. Capitalism commodifies rights, packages them, and sells them back to those who can afford them. Patriarchy allocates them only to those it deems worthy, viewing others—enslaved peoples, women, children, and anyone unable to serve capital—as property or burdens. For those who cannot contribute to these hierarchies, the system simply discards them.

This pattern is not unique to disability rights. Every fight for equality in American history has encountered systemic resistance. Women won the right to vote and own property, only to be excluded from schools and professions. Black Americans emerged from slavery only to face the betrayals of Jim Crow, the prison-industrial complex, and systemic economic disenfranchisement. Chinese immigrants resisted exclusionary laws, fighting for recognition, but were met with entrenched racism and marginalisation in labour and housing. Whilst these victories were real and hard-fought, they always remained precarious within a system that saw equality as a threat to power and profit. Rights granted, after all, can just as quickly be rescinded.

Section 504, like these earlier struggles, was not a gift of new rights but the restoration of those that should never have been denied. It was a hard-won victory, achieved through relentless advocacy by disabled people forcing the government to legislate equity. But this victory, like those before it, has never been secure. The system, aligned with corporate power, has always tolerated such advances grudgingly, biding its time to claw them back. Section 504 was revolutionary, but it also underscored a dangerous truth: as long as a government can grant rights, it retains the power to take them away. This makes the fight for equality not a moment in history but an ongoing battle against systemic forces that have always sought to undermine it.

The Origins of the Attack on Section 504

“The purpose of a system is what it does,” Stafford Beer said, and in the case of the American government, what it does consistently is serve the interests of capital and patriarchy. The latest attack on Section 504 of the Rehabilitation Act by 17 Republican attorneys general is a textbook example of this system in action. These taxpayer-funded lawsuits, brought by states with deep ties to business interests, seek to dismantle protections for disabled individuals, using trans people as a convenient scapegoat. The corporations operating in these states, many of which have a long history of discriminatory practices, are the real beneficiaries. They stand to save money whilst their state attorneys general wage this war on their behalf. This is not new. It is a continuation of the American tradition: corporations using public systems to protect their own power whilst marginalised communities are left to fight for scraps.

Section 504 has long been viewed as a “burden” by the business community. To them, the idea of accommodating disabled individuals—whether by building ramps, ensuring accessible communication, or providing workplace adjustments—represents an unacceptable interference with their profits. The so-called tyranny of the majority, where businesses and governments see themselves as unfairly imposed upon by the needs of marginalised individuals, becomes the justification for endless resistance. In the capitalist’s mindset, accommodations are seen not as basic human decency but as an affront. “How dare these cripples tell me what I must do with my money and my company,” an old robber baron might say. For these interests, the law’s purpose is to preserve power and profit, not to uphold the dignity of people they deem “lesser.”

The framing of inclusion as expensive is central to this attack. Corporations insist that accessibility costs too much and that accommodating anyone outside the norm is bad for business. In the case of trans people, this argument has taken on an especially insidious twist. Companies claim that their customer base does not “like the look” of visibly trans employees, suggesting that simply hiring us costs them money. Christian Nationalists amplify this by boycotting businesses that display even the most basic support for LGBTQIA+ people, such as a rainbow flag. For companies already predisposed to discrimination, this provides a convenient excuse to exclude trans individuals entirely. Accessibility and inclusion, they say, come at too high a price.

Enter the current administration and the 17 attorneys general. With the rise of openly hostile policies targeting trans people, systemic resistance to Section 504 has found new footing. According to Arkansas Attorney General Tim Griffin, this lawsuit isn’t just about opposing trans individuals—it’s about pushing back on the Biden administration’s decision to tie federal funding to hiring practices that include trans people. Griffin and the other attorneys general argue that the Biden administration overreached by interpreting protections under Section 504 to extend to individuals with gender dysphoria, effectively requiring states and organisations to accommodate trans people if they want to continue receiving federal funds.

From the Biden administration’s perspective, this interpretation is rooted in clear logic: gender dysphoria is classified in the DSM, and many trans individuals have used their diagnosis as a legal defence against workplace discrimination. For trans people, this has often been the only way to avoid being fired after coming out. But for the AGs, businesses, and states involved in the lawsuit, the very idea of being compelled to hire and accommodate trans people—whether through Section 504 or any other federal regulation—is an unacceptable imposition. This isn’t simply about trans rights; it’s about undermining the broader framework of disability protections that Section 504 provides.

In reality, businesses and state governments resent being held accountable for accessibility and inclusion. Section 504 has always been seen as a “burden,” and this lawsuit provides a perfect opportunity to dismantle the very framework that requires them to treat marginalised individuals equitably. The focus on trans people is a convenient distraction, a rallying cry that taps into widespread prejudice while quietly advancing a more expansive agenda: to strip away protections for disabled individuals altogether. By framing these federal rules as government overreach, the attorneys general and their corporate allies aim to erode the principles of equity and accountability that Section 504 represents—while cloaking their true intentions in a veneer of defending “state rights” and “freedom.”

Thus this attack is not about cost or fairness—it is about preserving the supremacy of capital and patriarchy. The government, true to its purpose, aligns itself with these forces, weaponising taxpayer money to erode hard-won protections. It is no coincidence that the system moves quickly to defend corporate profits and the ideologies that uphold them, while leaving those most vulnerable to fend for themselves. As Beer’s dictum reminds us, the system’s purpose is what it does—and what it does, again and again, is serve power at the expense of equity.

Historical Parallels: Government Siding with Capital and Patriarchy

Throughout American history, the government has consistently aligned itself with capital and patriarchy, resisting equality while grudgingly granting legal victories that it often seeks to undermine. Women’s fight for equality offers one of the clearest examples of this pattern. For much of early American history, women were regarded as the property of their husbands, with no independent legal identity. They could not vote, own property by themselves, or pursue an education. Women fought long and hard to change this, eventually securing the right to vote through the 19th Amendment and gaining access to property ownership, certain professions, and banking services years later. Yet systemic resistance never disappeared. Women were often denied access to higher education, barred from many occupations, and forced into dependency. Even today, pay disparities, restrictions on reproductive healthcare, and workplace discrimination reveal that the struggle for women’s equality is far from over. The system continues to claw back rights whenever it can, maintaining its grip on patriarchal power.

Chinese migrants faced a similar dynamic. In the mid-19th century, Chinese labourers came to America in search of opportunity, contributing significantly to the country’s infrastructure, particularly in the construction of railroads. Yet, instead of recognition, they were met with exclusionary laws like the Chinese Exclusion Act of 1882, which barred immigration and naturalisation. These migrants fought back, challenging discriminatory practices in court and advocating for recognition under the 14th Amendment. Whilst they achieved some victories, systemic pushback was relentless, with entrenched racism continuing to limit their rights in housing, labour, and citizenship for decades. The system begrudgingly conceded only as much as it needed to whilst maintaining white supremacy as its guiding principle.

The story of enslaved people and Reconstruction provides an even starker example. The 13th Amendment abolished the enslavement of people - ish, but its exception clause allowed for the enslavement to continue “as punishment for crime,” laying the foundation for systemic oppression through the prison-industrial complex. During Reconstruction, Black Americans briefly experienced political and economic freedom, only to see those gains stripped away through Jim Crow laws, sharecropping, and racial terrorism. The government sided with capital, ensuring a supply of cheap Black labour through incarceration and economic exploitation. The prison system, from its inception to today, remains a tool for maintaining white supremacy and capital’s dominance over marginalised communities.

Disability rights follow this same pattern. Before the Rehabilitation Act of 1973, disabled individuals faced rampant discrimination and exclusion from public life. Institutions and businesses operated with no obligation to accommodate disabled people, effectively shutting them out of education, employment, and basic services. Section 504 was a landmark achievement, the result of decades of advocacy by disabled activists who demanded recognition and equity. Yet, as with women’s rights and civil rights, the system’s resistance has been unyielding. Compliance with Section 504 has often been grudging at best, with businesses and institutions framing accommodations as burdensome rather than necessary. The persistent push to undermine or repeal disability protections reflects the system’s true purpose: to prioritise profit and power over equity and inclusion.

These historical parallels reveal a consistent truth: the government and its institutions are not neutral arbiters but active participants in upholding capital and patriarchy. Time and again, legal victories for marginalised groups are framed as progress, only to be met with systemic resistance designed to limit their scope and claw back gains. Stafford Beer’s dictum rings true—what the system does, repeatedly and deliberately, is serve power, not people.

Current Events: The Assault on Section 504

The assault on Section 504 has taken on new intensity, with trans people placed at the centre of a legal and cultural storm. In Texas v. Becerra, the plaintiffs argue that the inclusion of gender dysphoria under Section 504 of the Rehabilitation Act exceeds statutory authority, claiming the condition is not explicitly named in the Act or its regulations. This argument, rooted in a textualist interpretation of the law, ignores the broad definitions that have long guided disability protections. Section 504, like the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA), defines disability as “a physical or mental impairment that substantially limits one or more major life activities.” This framework has been crucial in accommodating a wide range of conditions based on their functional impacts, not their specific naming in legal texts. (See Szemanski, A. (2020). When Trans Rights Are Disability Rights: The Promises and Perils of Seeking Gender Dysphoria Coverage Under the Americans with Disabilities Act. Harv. JL & Gender, 43, 137. to understand how and why it is classified a disability in this context.)

The plaintiffs’ argument is deeply flawed and dangerous. If their reasoning is upheld, it would not only deny accommodations for gender dysphoria but could also jeopardise protections for countless other conditions that, like gender dysphoria, are not explicitly listed in the statute. Take erythromelalgia, for example—a condition I suffer from that has been documented in medical literature since the late 1800s but is not explicitly mentioned in the Rehabilitation Act, its final rule, or the ADA. Erythromelalgia, characterised by episodes of burning pain, redness, and swelling, particularly in the extremities (for me, my feet and lower legs), is accommodated not because it is named in the law but because its functional impacts meet the legal definition of disability. I rely on these protections for workplace accommodations and even hold a permanent disabled parking pass from my state due to the condition’s debilitating nature.

Erythromelalgia’s exclusion from the original language and regulations is a clear example of why disability laws are designed to be adaptive. They are not meant to provide an exhaustive list of impairments but to ensure equity and access for all individuals with significant limitations. If conditions had to be explicitly named to qualify, countless recognised disabilities, including erythromelalgia, autism, ADHD, PTSD, chronic fatigue syndrome, fibromyalgia, sensory processing disorder, Ehlers-Danlos syndrome, and long COVID, could lose their protections. This would not just undermine the purpose of disability law—it would erase the very framework of inclusion it was designed to create.

Beyond the legal argument, this case relies on framing trans existence as incompatible with societal norms, particularly in workplaces. Businesses claim that accommodating trans people alienates customers or imposes financial burdens, whilst Christian Nationalist groups amplify this rhetoric with boycotts and public outcry. The plaintiffs exploit this bigotry to legitimise their broader attack, using trans people as a convenient scapegoat for dismantling protections that benefit all marginalised groups.

For me, this is more than a legal or theoretical issue—it is deeply personal. As a trans and autistic individual with a diagnosis of gender dysphoria, I have relied on Section 504 protections to navigate a world that often feels hostile to my very existence. As someone who also suffers from erythromelalgia, I know firsthand how critical these laws are for people with disabling conditions that profoundly affect daily life but may not be widely understood. These protections have allowed me to work, to access public spaces, and to live with dignity. If the plaintiffs succeed, they won’t just take aim at trans people—they will gut the rights of anyone who depends on the inclusive framework that Section 504 provides.

This lawsuit is about more than gender dysphoria. It is about eroding decades of progress for disabled individuals by redefining the scope of disability law to serve narrow interests. The plaintiffs’ arguments threaten to unravel protections for millions, exposing the system’s true priorities. As always, it reveals its purpose: to uphold power, profit, and prejudice while leaving the most vulnerable to fend for themselves. This is not just a fight for trans rights—it is a fight for the soul of disability law and for the right of every marginalised person to live with dignity.

Implications for Education: Eliminating 504 Plans

A 504 plan is a critical tool for ensuring equity in education, providing accommodations and support for students with disabilities under Section 504 of the Rehabilitation Act. Unlike an Individualised Education Programme (IEP), which falls under the Individuals with Disabilities Education Act (IDEA) and focuses on specialised instruction for students whose disabilities impact their ability to learn in a traditional classroom setting, a 504 plan ensures access to the general education curriculum by addressing barriers posed by a student’s disability. This might include things like extra time on tests, preferential seating, access to assistive technology, or adjustments to the physical environment. Whilst IEPs are designed for students requiring specific educational services, 504 plans focus on accommodations to level the playing field.

504 plans are often the last resort for families navigating a system that is frequently reluctant to provide adequate support. For example, schools may deny IEPs for students with conditions like seizure disorders, asserting that the condition doesn’t directly impact academic performance, even when the disability affects a student’s day-to-day functioning. Parents often turn to 504 plans in such cases, bringing in documentation from medical professionals to compel schools to provide accommodations. In other cases, 504 plans provide protections for students with multiple disabilities where schools attempt to minimise their eligibility under IDEA. For example, an autistic student (AUT), also managing their ADHD (Other Health Impairment, or OHI), and their specific learning disability (SLD) [aka, an AuDHD gestalt language processor … like me] may be given an IEP for the cheapest or most convenient eligibility to support, leaving other needs unmet. Families may reject such IEPs and instead use 504 plans to enshrine the intersectionality of the student’s needs, ensuring that all barriers are addressed holistically.

The implications of the Texas v. Becerra lawsuit extend far beyond trans people and gender dysphoria. If Section 504 is weakened or dismantled, 504 plans themselves could be at risk. Without Section 504 as a legal backbone, schools, especially non-public schools, may no longer consider themselves required to accept these plans or provide the accommodations they guarantee. This would be devastating for countless students who depend on these plans to access their education on an equal footing with their peers. The elimination of 504 plans would disproportionately impact students whose disabilities fall outside the narrow eligibility categories of IDEA. Conditions like ADHD, anxiety, sensory processing disorder, chronic illnesses, and even autism in some cases could leave students without the protections and support they need to succeed in school.

As a teacher, I’ve seen firsthand how vital 504 plans are in the classroom. They provide students with the tools they need to overcome barriers, whether that means knowing that a student has a seizure disorder and being prepared for it or giving a student with a chronic illness flexible deadlines to accommodate their frequent absences due to hospital visits. These accommodations are not luxuries—they are the bare minimum needed for equity. Without them, students are left to navigate an inaccessible system that was not built for their needs. The loss of 504 plans would only widen existing inequities, pushing already marginalised students further to the margins.

The impact would extend beyond individual students to society as a whole. Removing accommodations sends a clear message that disabled people are unwelcome in educational spaces. It would exacerbate disparities in graduation rates, employment opportunities, and long-term outcomes for disabled individuals, perpetuating cycles of inequality. Marginalised communities, already disproportionately affected by systemic barriers, would bear the brunt of these changes. By eroding Section 504, the system would once again show its true purpose: to prioritise convenience and cost over equity and inclusion, leaving the most vulnerable without the support they need to thrive.

Final thoughts …

“The purpose of a system is what it does.” Stafford Beer’s observation rings true when we examine the systemic assault on Section 504. The actions of the government, businesses, and institutions reveal their true purpose: to serve capital and patriarchy at the expense of equity and inclusion. This is not an anomaly or an overreach; it is the system operating exactly as intended. When confronted with the choice between accommodating marginalised groups or preserving profit and power, the system consistently chooses the latter. The lawsuit against Section 504 is yet another example of this pattern—one that exposes the lengths to which the system will go to prioritise the interests of the privileged few over the basic dignity of the many.

The assault on Section 504 is not a standalone event. It is part of a broader and ongoing resistance to civil rights. The arguments being made in Texas v. Becerra mirror those used throughout American history to dismantle progress: from Jim Crow laws that followed Reconstruction to restrictions on women’s reproductive healthcare after the gains of second-wave feminism. The framing of this lawsuit as solely a “trans issue” is a deliberate tactic to obscure its broader implications. Corporate media, marching to the drumbeat of their sponsors, amplify this narrow framing, reducing the conversation to a culture war while ignoring the systemic erosion of rights for disabled and marginalised individuals. In doing so, they not only fail to inform the public but actively protect the system’s deeper agenda.

The implications of this attack go far beyond trans individuals or any single group. If successful, it could unravel the protections of Section 504, leaving millions without the accommodations they need to participate fully in society. The impact would be devastating for disabled students, workers, and individuals whose conditions have long relied on the broad definitions of disability enshrined in the law (aw, shucks George, we never saw this comin’…). This is why recognising the true purpose of these systems is crucial. They are not broken—they are doing exactly what they were designed to do: protect power, profit, and privilege.

The path forward requires solidarity across marginalised groups. The assault on Section 504 is not just a fight for disability rights or trans rights—it is a fight for the soul of equity and inclusion itself. We must resist efforts to divide us and see through the narratives designed to pit us against one another. The system will always seek to undermine progress, but collective action and solidarity remain our most powerful tools. Together, we can challenge the purpose of this system and demand one that values people over profit, inclusion over exclusion, and equity over oppression.