Disposable Humanity and Aktion T4 (#1376)

Topics/tags: Reviews, endnot-free

Content warning: Mass slaughter, evil, comments on American politics

This past week, I had the privilege of viewing Disposable Humanity, a film about the German Aktion T4 program, which included the euthenicization of over 300,000 disabled people during World War II. Eldest Son asked why I was going: I’m already depressed (both colloquially and medically), so why expose myself to more sadness and pain? Nonetheless, it seemed important to attend, to learn, to expose myself to the atrocities.

It was a difficult movie to watch. For much of the film, we went deeper and deeper into painful explorations of the past and the ways it is ignored. We progressed from the stories of a few people, to forced sterilization of tens of thousands, to abstract descriptions of the procedures and processes used to enable the murder (euthenicization) of so many people, to visits to the locations of gas chambers (often one or two per psychiatric institution), to the discovery that the psychiatric institutions continue to operate (often with the remains of the gas ovens along with the memorials in one part of the building), to hearing that childrens’ brains were harvested as part of this program and were kept for decades after WWII ended, to hearing that few if any of the perpetrators were charged (because crimes against your own people are not considered war crimes), and even those who were charged eventually had their sentences commuted.

As I said, the painful discoveries went on and on.

So many things were shockingly powerful. I recall, for example, one sequence in which archivists had recovered parts of a gas chamber and were working to figure out where they all went. They said that when they first started, they’d been told, There are paper records; you shouldn’t need to do archaeological work. However, seeing the pieces of the ovens—or in some cases, the ovens themselves—was so much more impactful.

As you might expect, it also included many lessons that should inform us today. For example, Nazi Germany was not the only place to add sterilization programs for people with disabilities; many US states had them, too. However, as one of the talking heads suggested, in a fascist state, no one would challenge such programs; in the US, people challenged them and forced their elimination.

As you might expect, the film raised questions about what people in nearby towns knew, and why they didn’t speak up. I’ll admit I can understand the fear of speaking up, as doing so would likely get you or your family arrested (or worse). Just how much is each of us willing to risk? On a more positive note, once the Americans arrived, many townspeople quickly revealed what had happened (or their suspicions thereof).

It was good to hear that the Americans often responded to such reports. On the other hand, it was painful to hear that they ignored parts of the reports. At one institution, people knew that there were pits in the garden where the perpetrators buried things. And they told their liberators. Still, no one attempted to excavate those pits until fifty or so years later. Were they too afraid to face the reality of what had really happened?

At the end of the film, they gave a recitation of the memorials one can find in Berlin. First, there was a memorial to the Jews killed in the Shoah. Then one for the homosexuals. Then the Roma and Sinti. And, finally, people with disabilities. That division reminded me of how we often divide ourselves, failing to build solidarity.

The film also reminded us of how politicians can leverage situations for their benefit. The T4 program succeeded, in part, because they regularly pointed out to the German people that people with disabilities got to live in fancy-looking institutions (even if they were not necessarily so inside), while hard-working Germans often had to live in slums. It’s sad that such techniques still work.

I must also mention the film’s narrative approach. In addition to featuring the standard talking heads from the memorials and academic institutions, the film also emphasized the filmmakers, some of whom are themselves disabled. Seeing their difficulty reaching parts of the memorials or taking trains to Auschwitz was particularly powerful. Those situations also made the accessibility of the memorial for the disabled even more meaningful.

The narrative also brought us from place to place, to place, to place. Seeing just how ubiquitous the horror was made it even more horrific.

In any case, the film wasn’t just painful; it was also well structured and well conceived.

Eldest was right. It was hard to watch. The only positive effect it had on my mood was that it gave me the opportunity to write this musing. But I’m glad I went. It was certainly worth it to learn and to have the opportunity to reflect.

Postscript: I was saddened to see how few people were there. The film has the potential to connect to so many disciplines on campus. Why weren’t students and faculty from those disciplines there to learn?

Version 1.0 of 2025-11-13.