Disability in universities is both everywhere and nowhere

In 2023/24, 18 per cent of students in UK higher education reported having a disability. By 2027, projections suggest this could rise to one in four.

In some universities in the UK, the proportion is already approaching 40 per cent. These figures might suggest steady progress – more students feeling confident to share their disability, more support in place, and more inclusive campuses.

However, according to recent research, the picture is more complicated.

A study published in the British Educational Research Journal by Koutsouris et al. describes disability in UK universities as an "absent presence." The research draws on interviews with staff from eight institutions across different types of universities.

While this is a relatively small sample given the size of the UK higher education sector, the authors argue that the patterns identified illustrate wider sector tendencies, even if the exact dynamics vary between institutions.

In their framing, disability is visible in statistics and policy documents, yet often missing from everyday campus life, leadership agendas, and core decision-making. The authors draw on Sara Ahmed's concept of the "non-performative", where institutions make commitments to diversity that look admirable on paper but do not necessarily translate into meaningful action.

The paradox in practice

The research is based on interviews with staff leading disability support services, in which they describe a sector in which disability is mentioned but rarely prioritised. In equality, diversity and inclusion discussions, it is often literally an afterthought – "and disability" – tagged on after race or LGBTQ+.

Some staff in the study described situations where policies were celebrated as inclusive, but the day-to-day practices told a different story. For example, universities might publish ambitious accessibility statements while lecture capture remains inconsistent, or launch inclusive teaching frameworks that rely on individual academic enthusiasm rather than clear expectations or resourcing.

There are signs of progress – the rates of students sharing a disability are rising, particularly for less visible disabilities – yet support services can be underfunded, placed in "out-of-the-way" locations, or merged into broader wellbeing structures. The authors state that in many cases, mental health initiatives have gained greater profile and investment than disability-specific commitments.

One student described how their university had been supportive while they received the Disabled Students' Allowance, but once the funding ended, things changed.

“I was passed around because no one seemed sure what to do… It felt like I'd gone from being supported to being a problem.

Their experience highlights how easily responsibility for inclusion can shift when support depends on external funding. Accounts like this appear frequently in sector-wide research.

Organisations such as Disabled Students UK and several SUs have reported similar patterns, especially where support is fragmented or tied to short-term funding. Students often describe the same shift from clarity to uncertainty once their needs sit outside standard processes.

Why this matters now

With the projected increase of disabled students by 2027, the sector faces a test of whether its public commitments will be matched by practical action. Higher numbers mean greater demand for adjustments, accessible learning environments, and staff who understand how to implement them.

The pressure is already visible across the sector – many support teams report rising caseloads without matching investment, and some hold waiting lists even for routine adjustments. At the same time, changes to disability-related funding and continuing pressure on university budgets risk widening the gap between what universities promise and what they can deliver. Acting now is less about preparing for 2027 and more about meeting the needs of students who are already on campus.

The risk of continuing with non-performative inclusion – strategies that look good on paper but have limited effect – is the erosion of trust among disabled students and staff. The consequences, as the research notes, can be serious and long-lasting, and unfortunately, in some cases, have devastating consequences.

If universities fail to act, the effects are already visible – disabled students are less likely to complete their studies, and disabled staff continue to report barriers to progression and belonging. The sector risks normalising a system where inclusion depends on individual goodwill rather than institutional design, undermining both student confidence and staff culture.

What needs to change

The study points to several shifts that could help embed disability inclusion within university life:

• Integrating disability into core institutional strategies, not only wellbeing plans.
• Co-designing policies and services with disabled students.
• Ensuring visibility of disabled people in leadership, teaching, and promotional materials.
• Providing transparent, ring-fenced budgets for disability inclusion, with clear accountability.

It also calls for a cultural change – disability should not be treated only as a medical issue to "fix", or hidden within generic "inclusion for all" approaches. While universal design principles are valuable, they need to be complemented by tailored support where needed.

From rhetoric to reality

Disability is more visible in higher education now than ever before. The question for the sector is whether to keep it marginal in culture and governance, or treat the rising disclosure rates as an opportunity for genuine transformation.

The "absent presence" described in the research is not inevitable. It reflects choices, and different choices are possible. Real inclusion will depend on whether universities choose to treat disability not as an afterthought but as a measure of how well they live up to their values. The sector has the knowledge and data – the next step is the will to act.