Imagine your days in the laboratory were filled with music. Not a symphony,
perhaps, but a melodic array of notes and chords – not as background music,
but describing the infrared spectrum of an unknown chemical compound.
Far-fetched? Not at all. The idea of representing data with music rather
than showing it on a stripchart or computer screen is just one of many
innovative ideas to help the 100 000 scientists and engineers around the
world whose disabilities include blindness, deafness, impaired mobility
and dyslexia. Their successes in fields ranging from experimental chemistry
to pure mathematics prove that a disability is not necessarily a barrier
to a career in science.
Probably the most famous of them is the British cosmologist Stephen
Hawking, who is almost paralysed by motor neurone disease. ‘He’s the prime
example of what the mind can do over the body,’ says Bill Skawinski, a chemist
at the New Jersey Institute of Technology who became blind in his teens
due to a degenerative disease of the retina. Hawking may become a role model
for disabled people who thought science was beyond them; in the past, scientists
with disabilities, especially those who are blind or with impaired mobility,
have been restricted to tasks which involve little or no practical work.
Performing experiments and analysing data, for example, is often a luxury
reserved for those who can see.
Advertisement
But now such activities are becoming routine through ‘assistive technology’,
which provides tools that enable people with disabilities to live and work
independently. Many of these tools involve computer technology. In offices,
for example, the arrival of voice synthesisers, which read out words and
letters in a machine-generated ‘voice’ as they are typed in, have been a
boon to blind people. In the laboratory, the most useful item is an innocuous
socket found on the back of most modern equipment: the RS-232 serial interface
port. This electronic circuitry has long been the standard route by which
computers exchange information digitally. Nowadays it is present, or at
least optional, as a source of digital rather than analogue outputs from
instruments such as balances, pH meters, temperature probes and voltmeters.
Rather than having to read a dial, the user can route the data to a computer.
For some visually impaired people, that is only halfway to a solution. A
scientist linking a computer to an analytical instrument with special ‘data
acquisition’ software almost always monitors it on a screen or printed output.
But visually impaired people can find this and subsequent data processing
difficult. In the US a core of disabled and able-bodied scientists are inventing
new devices to tackle this obstacle, inspired by a keen awareness of what
is missing from the commercial range. ‘There’s a major disadvantage in science
for disabled people generally,’ says David Lunney, an able-bodied professor
in the chemistry department of East Carolina University. ‘You can find hundreds
of office products that will adapt a computer for access by people with
disabilities but almost nothing that makes science and engineering accessible.’
Lunney regards the human ability to recognise complex sound patterns
as a vast, untapped resource. After more than ten years’ work, he and his
colleagues Rosa McMillan, Robert Morrison and Paul Gemperline have programmed
a computer-controlled music synthesiser that creates patterns of music from
the output of an infrared spectrometer. Instead of a printed spectrograph
(which anyway often looks like the profile of an unassailable mountain range),
the synthesiser generates sounds based on the spectrum values, so a blind
person can hear the difference between, say, the spectra of ethanol and
benzoic acid.
But the output can sound avant-garde, admits Lunney: ‘like John Cage
with a hangover’, he admits.
The researchers hope to use more sophisticated pattern recognition systems
to preprocess the spectra. The system could then act more like an experienced
spectrograph analyst, and draw attention to the unusual elements of an output.
In future, the range of analytical instruments accessible with this method
is enormous. ‘Anything that looks like a histogram can be mapped into electronic
music,’ says Lunney. ‘It could be a tremendous tool for visually impaired
scientists who have to wade through tons of data.’
Two years ago Skawinski, while completing his PhD in chemistry, devised
a simpler method to collect data from unsupervised overnight experiments
in which he was monitoring the ultraviolet spectra of amino acids. He wanted
to set up the experiments without the aid of sighted helpers – or as he
calls them, tongue-in-cheek, ‘low-tech biological devices’.
His solution was to connect the UV spectrometer to a computer driving
a voice synthesiser. The synthesiser could either read out the data as the
data was collected, or the computer could store the data from the entire
experiment and plot it later on screen, while the voice synthesiser read
out the precise data values in order. ‘A person who is blind can do this
completely independently,’ Skawinski says. ‘I can just set up an experiment
without anyone else around.’
Meanwhile David Wohlers, who is acting head of the chemistry department
at Northeast Missouri University, is devising what could be the tactile
accompaniment to the auditory systems devised by Lunney and Skawinski: a
Braille printout of an infrared spectrum. His idea is to first divert the
analogue signal from its normal course (to the stripchart recorder pen)
and through a standard analog-to-digital converter. Then, custom software
and a specially adapted Braille printer could print the pattern of spectral
peaks and troughs.
Like Lunney, Wohlers thinks his system would be useful for a variety
of analytical work, such as high pressure liquid chromatography or nuclear
magnetic resonance spectroscopy.
SOFTWARE’S SHORTCOMINGS
Like many other blind or visually impaired scientists, Wohlers has previously
relied on assistants to be his hands and eyes while training to do inorganic
chemistry. Although his time is mostly spent on teaching and curriculum
development, he would prefer to be actively doing chemistry. ‘There is a
certain independence that you get or a certain closeness to the work if
you can do it yourself.’
To do that, Wohlers can hear and feel data directly using his faithful
companion, a ‘Braille ‘n Speak’ system from Blaizie Engineering of Street,
Maryland. Costing a modest $1359 and small enough to fit into his sports
jacket pocket, it is a combination of portable note taker, calculator, computer
terminal, word processor, Braille transcriber and speech synthesiser. It
can store continuous data readings and announce values of pH meters or
temperature gauges by using their RS-232 outputs. Its 640 kilobyte memory
and floppy disc drive means the data can subsequently be loaded on a computer
for processing. ‘I don’t know any blind professional without one,’ he declares.
But although computers have been a boon to blind scientists by taking
data away from meters that must be seen to be read, most modern software
still has a major disadvantage: it depends on the graphical user interface
– visual icons that represent abbreviated commands or other information.
‘The graphical user interface is a tough nut to crack for blind people,’
says Mark Dubnick, a fellow at the National Institutes of Health.
For the sighted, visual icons have transformed most computers into user-friendly
office companions. The visually impaired need something else, and may soon
get it following the Americans with Disabilities Act of 1990, which states
that both private and government-funded institutions must immediately provide
equal access and opportunities for people with disabilities – and that access
includes computer equipment.
Dubnick says some software manufacturers have been ‘very supportive’
about finding a solution. One example is Apple Computer, which offers its
Outspoken word processing package linked to a voice synthesiser. The software
links a text phrase to each icon: when the hand-held mouse points to one
of them, the synthesiser reads out its linked phrase.
Dubnick went blind 11 years ago during his postgraduate studies because
of diabetes. Now aged 37, he works as a molecular biologist, relying on
a voice synthesiser linked (via two computers) to a DNA synthesiser to obtain
data on human gene sequences. He avoids experimental work because he would
have to use spatial techniques and, very occasionally, radioactive substances.
Dubnick often acts as a role model for blind students who wish to become
scientists. He typically advises them to get into lines of research that
are based around instruments, because they are accessible by computers.
Ironically, many unrelated technological developments have proven beneficial
to people with special needs. ‘There are a lot of incentives other than
just charitable feelings,’ says Dubnick. ‘Data is being digitised because
it’s easier to analyse that way. But it’s a trend we can latch on to – like
sticking a parachute out into a wind-stream and boom, we get pulled along.
It’s wonderful.’
He says it is still a battle, however, to persuade many equipment manufacturers
to cater for the needs of disabled scientists. ‘We’re not asking them to
solve the problem,’ he says. ‘We’re asking them to leave a hook so that
(the equipment) is accessible. It’s not that difficult to do if you get
it at the design phase. But if the hooks aren’t there, you’re facing a sheet
of glass.’
Laboratory work can present very different problems to scientists who
have impaired mobility either from birth or after sudden trauma. Most scientists
have probably never thought about how they might cope after a disabling
car accident.
Richard Yey has. He is a graduate student at the Massachusetts Institute
of Technology’s Newman Laboratory for Biomechanics and Human Rehabilitation,
famous for its work on artificial limb replacements. He and his supervisor
Michael Rosen are trying to rehabilitate molecular biologist Shuzi Chen,
paralysed with only limited arm movement after a car accident. ‘Our hope
is that we can get him back into the lab,’ says Yey.
ADAPTING THE LABORATORY
One method would be to restore the fine motor control to Chen’s hands
with an orthotic arm attachment. This would move the fingers using the residual
mechanical force in his arm muscles, so Chen could perform laboratory procedures
such as culture of bacteria, preparation of mediums, and the extraction,
analysis, sequencing, and hybridisation of DNA. The alternative could be
to adapt the laboratory around Chen’s disabilities.
Such alterations worked for chemist Todd Blumenkopf. Born with spina
bifida, he uses a wheelchair and studies anticancer drugs at Burroughs Welcome
in North Carolina. His adjustable bench is appropriately fitted on wall
brackets six inches lower than usual. Likewise, his fume hood is anchored
at the same height, with wheelchair access below.
For safety he has various cleansing aids within reach; an emergency
eye wash, a retractable drench hose which resembles the kind found on kitchen
sinks, a pull-chain for emergency showers, and an especially light-weight
fire extinguisher next to the hood. ‘Chemistry is perceived as a particularly
dangerous area for disabled people to do,’ says Blumenkopf. ‘But for people
that sit there and insist that the type of work that I do is not suitable
for a disabled person, I can give them an example of jobs that I can do.’
But for experimental scientists such as Blumenkopf and Skawinski, the
route to their job has not been easy or simple. Skawinksi says, ‘I always
wanted to be a scientist. I was interested in things. I always wanted to
find out what was going on in the universe.’ But he had to pursue that goal
in the face of active discouragement from those around him. He feels the
lack of a role model scientist who was also blind held him back for some
years; but eventually, as he says, he realised that ‘you just have to want
it enough to do the work that’s required’.
At MIT, Yey agrees that prejudice exists against disabled scientists.
‘People take the attitude that for people with a disability life is tough,
so why make it tougher (by trying science)?’ he comments. But he thinks
these perceptions will change as scientists with disabilities become more
visible. However, in Chen’s case time is running out: his postdoctoral
fellowship expires next year, a deadline that could separate him from laboratory
work altogether.
Blumenkopf says, ‘A lot of disabled people who would go into technical
jobs are weeded out. The general perception among faculty members and professors,
that a disabled student would have difficulty in getting a job, is more
likely to dissuade someone who’s aiming for a technical career rather than
someone shooting for a higher grade (academically), where they are likely
to get assistance.’
He also fears that the very people who could help students with disabilities
– the parents, educators and careers advisers – push many away from science
because of perceived problems in access and safety. In response, he intends
to create a book containing profiles of scientists with disabilities. ‘There
are a lot of disabled people out there who have made astounding contributions
to science. This is a great opportunity to give some individuals the chance
to prove what they can do despite their disabilities.’
FEEL THAT DATA
Of course some scientists, such as theoretical physicists or mathematicians,
never go near a laboratory. Gone are the days, however, when this meant
an exclusive relationship with the blackboard or a pen and paper. As with
laboratory data analysis, computers now dominate the field of higher mathematics.
But similar obstacles exist here as for experimental scientists. Although
speech synthesisers – which sound out the letters and words that the blind
user keys in – are the most popular alternative to a screen for word processing,
‘they don’t know what to do’ with certain mathematics programs, says James
Barnes, an electrical engineer for Aerospace, Texas.
Barnes is blind, and uses a Reader machine from Arkenstone, of Sunnyvale
in California, to read letters and other documents. This optical character
recognition system costs $5000, and can turn scanned text into synthesised
speech or stored computer files. In fact it is so efficient that Barnes
often catches his sighted boss using it to place documents on computer file.
That works for standard letters, but when it comes to higher mathematics
Barnes finds Braille a more convenient substitute. Complicated higher mathematical
symbols – such as the symbol – sometimes go beyond the standard ASCII format
of computer text. Instead, they have to be spelt out in words and converted
to Braille with special translation software.
Standard Braille, however, cannot ideally represent two-dimensional
equations such as differential calculus where there are complex symbols
above and below divisor lines. They are ‘extremely difficult to understand
and even more difficult to do on a computer’, says John Gardner, professor
of physics at Oregon State University.
Gardner lost his sight suddenly four years ago in an accident. He uses
a standard personal computer and voice synthesiser for many tasks, but for
mathematics, his solution is ‘tactile equations’: he is now refining software
for a specially adapted printer which will make a hard copy of two-dimensional
equations by squirting a wax-like ink onto paper.
He is integrating the equations into a Braille mathematics programme
in which the lines separating numerators from denominators remain as they
would for a sighted person, as do symbols for which Braille translation
is awkwardly long. The only difference in appearance will be that everything
is approximately twice normal size. Numbers and letters in the formulae
will appear in traditional Braille, as raised dots. This ‘enhanced Braille’
can be read more directly and easily, and will be evaluated by blind students
this summer.
Two follow-up plans should make the technology complete. The first would
print characters on top of Braille dots so that sighted people can also
see the written work. The second would develop a mathematics word processor
for working directly on computer. Existing commercial software packages,
such as Wolfram Research’s Mathematica, would be ‘very fine programs’ if
they were not also based on graphical symbols, says Gardner.
‘It’s important to have a number of inputs other than visual,’ Skawinksi
says. ‘Variety is the word. People learn in different ways. Some are visually
oriented, some are hearing oriented, some are tactile oriented. If you combine
all of those senses it can only help’.
Meanwhile, the keys to making assistive technology available to disabled
people are familiar ones: low prices and good marketing. Some organisations
are making special efforts here. Arkenstone Inc., being a non-profit organisation,
used to sell its Reader machines at prices that undercut competitors. In
response, Xerox Imaging Systems now markets the original reader machine,
invented in 1976 by the former MIT scientist Raymond Kurzweil, for $4500.
The result is that people with disabilities now have a better chance
to become successful and productive scientists. Blumenkopf says, ‘Given
enough time, you will see more and more disabled people in the whole spectrum
of jobs.’ As psychologist Jim Ainsley recently explained to the US National
Science Teachers’ Association in Boston, they can now show that ‘science
requires an able mind, not necessarily an able body’
Jennifer Hiebert is a poet and an ardent Pogophile.