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Inclusivity as a concept is widely discussed, taught and applied as education grapples with difficult questions of equity and fairness in times of increasing human complexity. However, its meaning is often assumed and not often problematised. Who wouldn’t want fairness and equity for all, regardless of difference? Closer inspection, however, calls us to ask questions such as: Inclusion into what, for what, and for whose ends?

Inclusion through a posthuman lens

Theories of critical posthumanism can help us to interrogate such issues of power, politics and what it actually means to be human in the world today. The philosophy bases its foundation around a guiding principle that requires us to move beyond humanism. As an ethical stance, humanism is clearly of value for its promotion of human equity, agency and care and its associated liberatory aims and achievements. Critical posthumanism acknowledges this, but also points to its limitations in terms of the reification of humans above other species, and the elevation of certain types of human in particular: the dominant White, male, Western, able-bodied, neurotypical, heterosexual ‘Man of reason’.

Braidotti (2012) argues that this idealised human (which the majority of us are not) is deeply encoded in all of our belief systems – including our educational practices. While the meaning of inclusion has shifted from the original Latin inclaudere – meaning to shut in – the sense of enclosure, or folding people into a fixed and limiting system (which actually only reflects the bodies and lived realities of a minority) remains. Contemporary practices of ‘inclusion’, in which content and pedagogy are adapted to suit the diverse needs of students (for example via differentiated materials, learning support and assistive technology) can clearly support difference, but rarely change the original intention of the normative curriculum; it is a process which can be likened to inviting people to sit at a table which has already been set.

‘Contemporary practices of “inclusion” … [reflect] a process which can be likened to inviting people to sit at a table which has already been set.’

Inclusive physical education

Physical education (PE) is one example of how – despite inclusion policies and learning which aims to support the abilities of all pupils – ableism continues to be deep-rooted. Practices founded on neoliberal aims of performance and competition, alongside particular understandings of strength, coordination and endurance, project an ‘idealised normative expectation of a healthy, defect-free, fully functioning body capable of performing (athletically) at a high level’ (Giese & Ruin, 2018, p. 159). Despite teachers’ best intentions, a standardised curriculum further reinforces these normative ideals, rather than viewing bodies in a way that promotes and celebrates difference.

Moving towards a PE which considers participation, movement and ‘achievement’ in alternative ways necessitates education reform which goes much further than altering one subject discipline. Turning towards difference, instead of viewing it as a deficit, requires a reframing and problematising of what it means to be ‘physical’ in the first place; a (re)consideration of what it means to be ‘fit’, and an emphasis on relationality and community, over individual goals and success measures. Within a fixed curriculum, with limited resources and onerous workload pressures, this is a challenge; but it is one which invites us all to turn away from the universal, normative modes of teaching and adopt process-led practice, grounded in the care of individuals and elevation of different modes of being human (Sidebottom & Bancroft, 2026).

From deficit models to promotion of difference

So what might posthuman processes of inclusion look like in practice? Petrie, Devcich and Fitzgerald’s (2018) research, which explores the practical experiences of PE teachers, suggests that change begins in dialogue and partnership with students. Inquiring critically together into questions such as ‘what does it mean to be active?’ firstly opens up space for questioning hegemonic ideals of mobility and exploring other notions of what ‘active’ could mean for different bodies (embracing both the diversity present within the class, and in the world more generally). Discovering what students enjoy about the multiple ways that activity occurs then allows for the emergence of new ideas of how to be active both individually and together – highlighting the role of participation, team-working and people skills. Considering mobility differently in this way can then lead on to the introduction of new or adapted games or sports, created as a learning community; activities which embrace difference while not relying on tradition, certain understandings of what a human body can do, or differentiation by gender.

Undertaking these forms of dialogic and creative pedagogy require teacher reflexivity and humility, along with the understanding that you are likely to get some things wrong. But by understanding and celebrating what bodies and minds of all kinds can achieve – and what they have the potential to achieve – we can begin to enact new ‘activity imaginaries’. In doing so, we expose and defamiliarise the constraints of neoliberal education systems and open up alternative possibilities.

References

Braidotti, R. (2013). The posthuman. Polity Press.

Giese, M., & Ruin, S. (2018). Forgotten bodies: An examination of physical education from the perspective of ableism. Sport in Society, 21(1), 152–165.

Petrie, K., Devcich, J., & Fitzgerald, H. (2018). Working towards inclusive physical education in a primary school: ‘Some days I just don’t get it right’, Physical Education and Sport Pedagogy, 23(4), 345–357.

Sidebottom, K., & Bancroft, K. (2026). Posthumanism, disability, and physical education. In A. Maher, J. Haegele, & J. Coates (Eds.), Routledge handbook of qualitative methods for researching disability in physical education (pp. 69-82). Routledge.