Episode 10: "Disposable Humanity" A Documentary About How DeHumanization Was Considered Normal and the Urgent Need Not to Repeat History

In this episode of Remaking Normal, Alexander Freeman takes a deeply personal and urgent turn—examining disability, history, memory, and power through the documentary "Disposable Humanity" a documentary that confronts one of the most overlooked truths of the Holocaust: disabled people were among the first groups targeted by the Nazi regime.

Alexander reflects on how some of the most violent and dehumanizing actions in human history were once framed as reasonable, efficient, even compassionate. Institutionalized cruelty did not arrive suddenly—it was normalized through language, policy, and bureaucracy.

"Disposable Humanity" centers on Aktion T4, the Nazi program that systematically murdered disabled people under the guise of medical care and so-called mercy. What the film makes impossible to ignore is that this violence began not with chaos, but with ideas—with doctors, institutions, and governments reframing human beings as burdens and death as treatment.

Alexander’s own documentary "True Value" narrated by Oscar winner Chris Cooper which explores employment, labor, and the deeper question beneath them all: who gets to decide the value and worth of a human life?

"True Value" is now streaming on Kinema at: kinema.com/films/true-value-wcpqr1

That same question sits at the heart of Disposable Humanity—only at a different moment in history, with devastating consequences. One film examines devaluation in the present. The other shows us where that thinking can lead when it is left unchecked.

Alexander also reflects on the work of director Cameron S. Mitchell, whose film is the result of years of personal, multi-generational research.

This episode is not just about the past. It is about how cruelty is normalized in the present—when disabled lives are discussed in terms of cost, when care is framed as burden, when antisemitism is dismissed as background noise, and when dehumanizing rhetoric is excused as politics.

Learn more about the film and how to watch or support it at disposablehumanity.com.

Host a screening at a school, synagogue, community center, library, disability organization, or workplace.

Follow @disposablehumanitymovie on Instagram and help ensure this history is seen, remembered, and discussed.

Find out about the documentary "My Own Normal" at myownnormalmovie.com and consider working with Alexander on a feature film by visiting outcast-productions.com. Subscribe to the Outcast Productions LLC YouTube Channel @OUTCASTPRODUCTIONSCo and follow @realalexanderfreeman on Instagram.

Transcript

SPEAKER_00 0:05

I'm Alexander Freeman, and this has been Remaking Normal. Episode 10. Disposable Humanity, a documentary about how dehumanization was considered normal and the urgent need not to repeat history. When I think about culture, history, or even filmmaking, I always come back to one question. What is normal? And who gets to decide? Because history teaches us something deeply uncomfortable. Some of the most violent and dehumanizing behavior humanity has ever justified was once considered normal. It was institutionalized. It was bureaucratic. It was defended as practical, efficient, and even compassionate. That's why this matters. I want to talk about the documentary Disposable Humanity, a film that confronts one of the most overlooked truths of the Holocaust. Disabled people were among the first groups targeted by the Nazi regime. This is not just a documentary. It is a warning. Because what this film shows us is not confined to the past. The conditions that made this history possible are resurfacing right now, in language, in policy, and in the way certain lives are discussed, dismissed, and erased. As someone who is disabled and Jewish, this film doesn't live at a distance from me. It lives in my body, in my history, and in the way I move through the world today. It also connects directly to the questions I've been asking in my own work as a filmmaker. In my documentary True Value, which is narrated by Oscar winner Chris Cooper and is available on Kinema for film screenings or to stream, I focus on employment, but more fundamentally, on human value. True value asks a question that sits beneath wages, hiring practices, and productivity. Who gets to decide the value and worth of a human life? That is the same question disposable humanity confronts. Just at a different moment in history and with even higher stakes. One film looks at exclusion and devaluation in the present. The other shows us where that thinking can lead when it is left unchecked. Disposable Humanity centers on Action T4, the Nazi program that systematically murdered disabled people under the language of medical care, efficiency, and so-called mercy. What the film makes impossible to ignore is that this violence did not begin with chaos or secrecy. It began with language, with policy, with doctors and institutions reframing murder as treatment and human beings as burdens. At the time this was presented as modern, scientific, responsible. That's where the question of normal becomes unavoidable. How does cruelty get reframed as care? How does bureaucracy make violence feel acceptable? The film is directed by Cameron S. Mitchell, and this is not a detached historical project. This film grew out of a long, deeply personal, multigenerational investigation into Action T4 and the deliberate exclusion of disabled victims from Holocaust memory. His process involved years of archival research, travel to former killing centers, and engagement with memorial institutions. What stands out to me about his work is that he doesn't treat history as finished. He treats it as something that must be actively recovered, protected, and re-examined. This is a filmmaker willing to sit with discomfort, to ask why some victims are remembered and others erased. Disposable humanity does not reduce disabled victims to numbers or symbols. The film brings us into former action T4 killing centers. It includes conversations with historians and memorial directors. It reflects on how these sites are remembered or avoided. I want to speak very personally here. Being disabled means I have spent my life being seen over and over again, as weak, as a burden, as someone whose needs are inconvenient. It means having my worth questioned in subtle ways and overt ways. It means being talked over, dismissed, infantilized. It means being made to feel like my existence requires justification. And yes, it also means that at times I've been treated with abuse, not always physical, often emotional, sometimes systemic, sometimes quiet enough that others don't notice, but loud enough that it stays with you. Being Jewish means carrying a historical memory of what happens when societies decide that certain people are problems to be managed, instead of human beings to be protected. What disposable humanity makes brutally clear is that ableism and antisemitism are not separate histories. They intersected in Nazi Germany, and they still intersect now. The genocide did not start with camps. It started with ideas, with language, with policies, with the normalization of cruelty. That is why this film is not just about the past. This film holds a deeply personal place for me because I had the honor of being selected alongside Cameron at the Slam Dance Film Festival with my documentary, My Own Normal. Standing beside this film reaffirmed something I deeply believe. These stories are not marginal. They are essential. History does not repeat itself exactly, but it echoes. What concerns me, and what this film helps us recognize, is how easily societies normalize harm when it is framed as efficiency, cost saving, or inevitability. We see it when disabled lives are debated in terms of expense, when care is framed as burden, when antisemitism is treated as background noise, when dehumanizing rhetoric is dismissed as just politics. So we have to ask, when did this become normal? Why do we tolerate it? Who benefits when we stop questioning it? You should watch disposable humanity because it restores disabled people to Holocaust history. Not as an afterthought, but as a central truth. You should watch it because it challenges how genocide is remembered and taught. And you should watch it because asking what is normal is not philosophical. It is survival. If this moved you, here's what I'm asking you to do. Go to disposablehumanity.com to learn more about the film, its mission, and how to watch or support it. Host a screening at a school, synagogue, community center, library, disability organization, or workplace. This film belongs in public conversation. Follow at Disposable Humanity Movie on Instagram to help amplify this story and ensure it reaches the people who need to see it. And most importantly, talk about it. Challenge what gets labeled as normal. Refuse silence. Disposable humanity reminds us of something essential. The most dangerous thing a society can do is decide that cruelty is normal. As a disabled Jewish person and as a filmmaker, I need people to understand that history doesn't begin with violence. It begins with permission, and this film refuses to give it. The people you'll hear on this podcast and the stories they share remind us that normal isn't a rule to follow. It's something personal, something evolving, something we create every time we choose to be real. If you've been inspired by these conversations, make sure to subscribe to Remaking Normal wherever you listen to podcasts and to the Outcast Productions LLC YouTube channel for films and more. Follow me on Instagram at real Alexander Freeman. You can also visit my own normalmovie.com to learn more about my documentary My Own Normal and explore Outcast Dash Productions.com and consider working together on a film. Thank you for listening, for feeling, and for being part of this journey. Together, we're remaking normal.