I was recently tagged in a proposal for a disability ID card, which prompted me to write why I oppose these programs. Some current US proposals are state-based and add a disability symbol or notation to a driver’s license or state ID. Colorado already offers one, using the Invisible Disabilities Association “i” symbol. Washington, DC is considering Eric’s ID Amendment Act of 2026, which would let residents add a nonapparent disability notation to their license. Alabama and Hawaii have had similar bills. New Jersey has a narrower version: Senate Bill 772 would have the Division of Developmental Disabilities issue an autism card stating that the holder may have trouble communicating or understanding directions. The card would be shown to police or emergency medical staff along with a driver’s license. Europe is further along: Directive (EU) 2024/2841 creates a European Disability Card, and member states have to start issuing it by June 2028.
The people behind these proposals mostly mean well. The argument I hear most often is about police and other first responders. I agree that a card may help some people with disabilities that affect communication, including autistic people, Deaf and hard of hearing people, and people with speech disabilities. It can give an officer information that the person cannot easily communicate during an incident.
However, people with communications disabilities have been sh0t by police even when they have information about that disability. In 2016, a North Carolina state trooper shot and killed Daniel Harris, a Deaf man, near his home after a pursuit that started as a traffic stop. In 2017, an Oklahoma City officer shot and killed Magdiel Sanchez on his front porch while neighbors yelled that he was deaf and could not hear the commands. The officers in the Sanchez case had someone telling them about his disability as it happened, and he still died. A card gives an officer the same information, but it only helps if the officer de-escalates long enough to get the card, read it, and has been trained to change their subsequent actions.
I still oppose these cards, including the voluntary ones. My reasons come from a lifetime of disability lived experience and my backgrounds in computer science and law.
Disability registries have been used before, and not in a good way
Disabled people have reason to be wary of being counted and labeled by the state, because of Aktion T4.
Starting in 1939, Nazi Germany sent registration forms to psychiatric hospitals and care institutions. Staff filled in each patient’s diagnosis, how long they had been institutionalized, and how productive their labor was. The forms went to the program’s headquarters at Tiergartenstraße 4 in Berlin, where medical reviewers marked each one. They recorded more than 200,000 patients this way. Around 70,000 of them were selected and k!lled before the program was officially halted in August 1941. The k!llings continued afterward in less centralized forms, including the murder of disabled children.
The registration forms looked like routine administrative paperwork. Nobody had to build a new system to identify disabled people because institutions had already collected the information the program needed.
I am not claiming that any DMV is planning anything like this. My concern is what happens after a government database flags people by disability, because the people who built it lose control over how the data is used. Data in state ID systems gets:
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shared with other agencies, including law enforcement;
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sold or licensed to third parties, which many states already do with DMV records;
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exposed in breaches;
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reused for purposes nobody discussed when the program was created, such as benefits eligibility reviews.
Databases always outlive the initial purposes for which the data was collected. A disability notation added today may still be in the system under whoever holds office ten or twenty years from now.
Disabled people in the US already distrust the government. Many states and counties keep emergency registries, which are voluntary lists meant to help responders find people who may need help evacuating during a disaster. Sign-up has typically been below 10 %. In November 2017, a few months after Hurricane Harvey, Texas had about 75,700 people on its STATE of Texas Emergency Assistance Registry, while ACS estimates put roughly 861,000 people with disabilities in the affected areas, according to reporting in Governing.
An article on registries in Domestic Preparedness lists the reasons people with disabilities give for not signing up. They:
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do not believe registries work;
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have privacy concerns;
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fear being labeled as vulnerable;
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worry about the legal status of themselves or family members;
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fear losing their independence.
The data support the first reason. The National Council on Disability found that fewer than 5 percent of people on the Texas registry were contacted during Harvey. Even fewer still got help evacuating, as KFF Health News reported. People were asked to give up their privacy, and most got nothing in return. A disability ID card asks for the same disclosure, and I see no reason to expect a better outcome.
Temporary disabilities do not fit on a card
The ADA does not limit disability to permanent conditions. EEOC regulations say an impairment lasting or expected to last fewer than six months can still be substantially limiting. The ADA Amendments Act also says an impairment that is episodic or in remission counts as a disability if it would be substantially limiting when active.
That covers a lot of people likely don’t even consider themselves as disabled, for example, someone:
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with a broken ankle or recovering from joint replacement surgery;
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going through chemotherapy;
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in a flare of multiple sclerosis, lupus, or Crohn’s disease;
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recovering from a concussion or a stroke;
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dealing with pregnancy complications.
By the time someone with a temporary condition acknowledges that their condition is a disability, gets a doctor’s appointment, fills out paperwork, goes to the DMV, and waits for a card in the mail, the condition may be over. People with fluctuating conditions face the opposite problem: the card says the same thing on good days and bad days. A card system also sorts people into two groups: cardholders, whom staff accept as disabled, and everyone else, whom staff are more likely to question.
The financial and effort costs land on disabled people
Card programs are usually described as free or low cost. That is rarely true once you look at to see what it takes to get one. Direct costs include:
1) Medical certification, which may involve a doctor visit, with a copay or the full cost for people without insurance or who haven’t met their deductible.
2) Time off work and transportation to medical appointments or an agency office that may be hard to access or use.
3) Fees for copies of medical records.
4) Application fees for the card itself
What’s missing?
People who are still waiting for a diagnosis cannot get a card. New Jersey’s autism card requires a diagnosis from a licensed physician, psychologist, or other authorized health care professional. Many autistic adults, people with long COVID, and people with ME/CFS wait years for this. If businesses treat their obligations as not triggering until they see a card, everyone in the card application and medical diagnosis queue goes without accommodations until it arrives.
Disability markers are visible to bartenders, hotel clerks, rental car agents, landlords, employers, and pharmacists. A marker can lead an officer, a clerk, or a landlord to treat holders differently. Employers also see it because a driver’s license is a standard document for Form I-9. That means a new employer may learn about your disability on your first day of work, whether or not you meant them to know.
A card only means something in places that recognize it. A Colorado “i” symbol means nothing to a restaurant manager in Ohio. A visitor from Canada or Japan will not have any of these cards. Neither will a student from another state, or a conference attendee in town for three days.
The European card has the same gap in reverse. It is issued to people whose disability is recognized by an EU member state, and the companion directive extends it to third-country nationals legally residing in the EU. An American tourist in Paris or Rome has nothing to show. If reduced fees, priority access, or assistance are tied to the card, visitors either pay more or go without.
American businesses will demand the card, even though the law says they cannot
Current ADA rules were written to keep paperwork out of the way of access:
Service animals: Staff can ask only two questions, and they cannot require documentation that the animal has been certified, trained, or licensed. Title II entities have the same rule. DOJ’s service animal FAQ says certificates and online registries do not give anyone rights under the ADA.
Accessible seating: A venue cannot require proof of disability, such as a doctor’s note, before selling tickets for wheelchair spaces. In limited cases it can ask the buyer to attest in writing to their need, and it cannot ask for more than that.
I already see front-line staff asking for service-animal “papers” that don’t exist under federal law. Once a government-issued disability card exists, the papers are real, and “show me your card” becomes the easiest instruction for a manager to give. For a manager, checking a license for a symbol is easier than training staff on the permitted questions.
Weak enforcement adds to the problem. Under Title III, a private plaintiff can get an injunction and attorney’s fees, but no money damages. Some states, such as California, allow damages under state law, but most do not. A person turned away from a restaurant for not having a card has a weak remedy, so the business faces very little risk in demanding one. As a result, front-line staff is likely to treat a “voluntary card” as a requirement.
What I would rather see
If the goal is safer police encounters and smoother access to accessibility-focused services, there are better ways to get there:
Train retail/facilities staff on the rules that already exist: The two service animal questions and the ban on demanding proof of disability. ” Front-line staff” include contracted services, which are frequently used for security, and are sometimes the biggest sources of violations.
Use self-attestation where verification is legitimately needed: DOJ’s ticketing rule already shows how that works.
Train officers: Teach police and other first responders to recognize disability and adjust, instead of relying on a symbol to tell them.
Allow people with disabilities to choose when, if, and how they want to disclose: Information a person chooses to carry, such as a card they write themselves, can stay at home and never enter a government database.
If your state is considering one of these bills, ask the sponsors these questions and ask for the answers in writing:
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Who can access the data, now and in the future?
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What ensures data security
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What happens to people who do not have the card, including visitors, people with temporary disabilities, and people awaiting diagnoses?
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How will they stop businesses from treating the card as a requirement?