One issue that verges on philosophy is the relationship between assistive technology and independence.

At first glance, it seems obvious that the whole point of an assistive device is to become more able to do something important – and thereby increase independence. But if this is so obvious, why is it that an increasingly frail elder may go to considerable effort to put off the use of a walker, perceiving it as a loss of independence? And why might the parents of a child with developmental disability object to the use of an AAC device, not wanting their offspring to be dependent on technology?

The answer probably deserves more analysis and ink, but in a nutshell, it seems that personal definitions of “independence” are often built around the concept of independence relative to some standard or expectation, or achieved in a particular way. The mom imagines her son able to communicate his expanding thoughts and questions – vocally using only his physiological speech equipment, like other kids. The older man has his heart set on getting from A to B the way he always has – using only his anatomical ambulation devices.

Often, our notions of independence are narrowed, at least temporarily, by cultural norms; we may focus on the means and mechanics rather than the functional outcome.