Disability rights activists in the United States have fought for decades to receive protections in everyday life, particularly in the classroom. Before the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA) was passed in 1990, there was practically nothing that punished discrimination against disabled students.
With the ADA, public and private institutions were federally prohibited from discriminating against people based on physical or mental disability, and employers were required to provide reasonable accommodations for disabled employees. It took many years for this law to gain its footing, though, with a 2008 amendment broadening the definition of disability, finally applying the law’s protections to a more representative population of disabled Americans.
Although there continue to be institutional and societal stigmatizations against disabled people in higher education, there has been an increase in resources and communities that disabled students can rely on to improve their educational and living experiences. Ultimately, disabled people have become more welcome on college campuses in the 21st century, which, as an autistic college student, I greatly appreciate.
However, recent news articles suggest that elite colleges are suffering from the opposite problem of our nation’s past; there are now too many students claiming they are disabled.
According to a December 2025 Atlantic piece, selective universities have seen a disproportionate increase in the share of students using disability accommodations. At Amherst College, 34% of undergraduates are registered as disabled, and at UC Berkeley, the share of students who qualify for accommodations has “quintupled over the past 15 years.” However, among public two-year colleges, just 3-4% of students receive accommodations, a rate that has remained steady over the last decade.
Robert Weis, a psychology professor at Denison University, told The Atlantic that while many students who request accommodations at community colleges have evidence of ongoing impairment, about half at four-year colleges “have no record of a diagnosis or disability classification prior to beginning college.”
Although this article ostensibly maintains a centrist point of view, it’s clear that it has a particular stance it wants to share. Much of the article focuses on the supposed causes of the creation of an “Accommodation Nation,” specifically citing the American Psychiatric Association expanding its definitions of ADHD, colleges’ encouragement to prioritize students’ personal accounts of disability and the DSM-5 broadening its diagnostic criteria. Additionally, the high prevalence of disability accommodations at selective institutions is framed as richer students gaming the system, obtaining questionable diagnoses to gain extra time on tests.
A Forbes article, largely based on the Atlantic piece, complicates this topic even further by providing additional discussion on law schools. The Law School Admission Council reported in 2024 that there were 2.5 times as many additional time requests on the LSAT in 2023 compared to 2019, and the article estimates that 30% of students at leading law schools receive accommodations. It places further blame for higher academic accommodation rates on the pathologizing of behavior, stating that people increasingly ascribe certain behaviors to disorders. Additionally, the article bemoans the recent overgeneralization of disability categorizations and higher education’s willingness to believe student testimonies. “Higher education’s maximally inclusive approach to disability” and privileged students’ higher access to diagnoses are purportedly leading to growing inequality between socioeconomic classes.
As a disabled college student who has used academic accommodations since elementary school, I feel I am uniquely qualified to discuss this controversy. A reality of my disabled experience is that it can sometimes take me longer to process information, especially when I am under the stressful circumstances of a test. Thus, having some extra time to complete tests does not give me an advantage but grants me an equal footing with neurotypical students.
Despite my accommodations helping level the playing field, I felt ashamed to admit my use of them before college. Back at my Central Texas high school, I was usually alone in the extra-time room, heightening insecurities about my disability. Additionally, I was one of the only people educated on disability rights, making discussions surrounding accommodations nearly impossible.
However, at Colorado College, I have seen more open, visible discussions regarding disability topics. Requesting accommodations is more frequent, professors often point students towards the Accessibility Resources department and disabled people are better understood.
Comparing the demographic backgrounds of private and public colleges, in addition to my own schooling experiences, I partially agree with the two articles’ assertions that class divides are a significant factor as to why more selective colleges have more students with disability accommodations.
Indeed, the socioeconomic divide between my schooling experiences is vast; 14.6% of my county’s residents were below the poverty rate in 2023, while 24% of CC students were in the top 1% as of 2017. However, I do not buy the claim that privileged students’ fraud and greed are to blame; I think that the vastly differing student experiences at non-selective and selective colleges result in differing perspectives on disability, causing those in the latter population learning how to help themselves succeed.
Simply put, selective institutions have more resources to support and uplift disabled students. For instance, non-selective colleges commonly lack alternative formats for exams and lectures. While many public institutions have accessibility resource departments, they often lack sufficient funding to provide accommodations for all disabled students. However, private colleges commonly have smaller student populations and a greater endowment per student. This makes it easier for students to seek out individual help and for faculty to assess students’ particular needs, thereby making disabled students’ lives a little less overwhelming.
Additionally, economically disadvantaged students, who have come to represent an increased share at less selective colleges, frequently have to spend their time outside of class working to afford their education, making exploring disability a lesser priority. However, students at selective private colleges generally have the privilege of treating their education as their job, allowing them to explore their identity and diverge their learning experience from their major.
This educational gap between social classes is further exacerbated by how material is taught to students. Private selective colleges’ curricula, especially those following the liberal arts model, often prioritize interdisciplinary thinking. Syracuse University was the first to establish a dedicated Disability Studies program, and centers for disability studies research commonly reside at more selective institutions, such as the University of Texas and UCLA.
At Colorado College, for example, we can take classes specifically about disability, including “Disability and Society” and “Critical Disability Studies.” Even a creative writing class I took last year focused on disabled experiences. Meanwhile, public college courses are not as focused on diverse perspectives, making exposure to disability topics less frequent. Educational resources and contact are two important methods in decreasing stigmatization, and selective institutions are, for the most part, better organized to facilitate these elements in the classroom.
Ultimately, students at selective institutions are more exposed to disability histories and experiences, both in the classroom and during their free time. Along with private colleges’ encouragement of self-exploration, these factors help facilitate an environment where disabilities are more normalized, prompting students to understand their lived experience better and get the help they need if they discover they have been unknowingly living with a disability.
The road to receiving academic accommodations is easier for those at selective institutions, not because of more relaxed requirements, but because faculty are better equipped to assess individual student concerns. Just as the rise of ADHD diagnoses is primarily due to a broader scientific understanding and increased public awareness of these disabilities, the increase in selective schools’ academic accommodation rates is likely the result of students gaining a broader personal familiarity with what being disabled constitutes.