Short version: I still don’t like it, for most of the reasons previously stated, and some new ones. Details follow.

I absolutely agree with the commenters who ask “What’s wrong with a site making a profit?” I agree, nothing at all is wrong with making a profit, as long as the owners are upfront about it. Disaboom is. Likewise, I see nothing wrong with a social networking site that observes its own privacy policy, and shares individual information and access only when explicitly permitted to. Disaboom users I’ve heard from say that Disaboom does just that. That’s good.

(Disaboom, at least as of this date, is not making a profit, though. See below.)

But there is a host of other things that still, and newly, bother me about Disaboom. I found the medical information available to be lightweight, poorly edited, and poorly presented. For example, under Conditions: Muscular Dystrophy: Introduction, two paragraphs appear. They’re a slapdash intro to the disease, followed by these lines:

The specifics of these diseases are outside the scope of this discussion, but readers are encouraged to look at the links listed below for further information.

Well, pretty much everything about muscular dystrophy is “outside the scope” of this “discussion”, especially since there are no links below to follow. That’s careless editing, of course, but typical of the general approach to the content. There’s no justification, need, or even any point to having these unsatisfying articles on Disaboom: Type “muscular dystrophy” into your browser’s search box, and you’ll instantly find thousands of articles with more, and more useful, information that you’ll get on Disaboom. Or take the mainstream approach and just go to WebMD, where you’ll find a slew of information well- presented and easily accessed.

Disaboom’s “lifestyle” articles seem equally pointless to me. Consider, for instance, this article: Successfully Support Your Significant Other’s Fitness Goals. Pick up any women’s magazine at your local supermarket, and you’ll find a similar article. Curiously, there’s nothing whatever in the content that is remotely disability-related. What’s the point of putting it on Disaboom? It’s not new art; it has nothing to do with the specific issues of Disaboom’s target market; it isn’t particularly informative. (How do you support your significant other? News flash — be nice.)

Then there’s this article on being a “football widow”. This post does happen to feature people who are living with SCI, but, once again, this advice is straight out of every women’s magazine ever printed. The featured issue, and advice, have nothing at all to do with SCI or living with any other disability. These articles are just slapped-together filler for a site that has little content-commitment to its putative target audience.

Even when there’s a nod to disability issues, it’s often feeble. Consider, for example, this article called 10 Tips for a Romantic, Accessible Valentine’s Date. The author suggests that you phone ahead to make sure your restaurant is accessible — that’s the extent of the relevant “tips”. Otherwise, it’s all suggestions for activities that are in no way disability-specific. If you have a disability that requires it, and you’ve been to even one restaurant since you began living with your disability, you’ve probably already learned to call ahead. You don’t need a lame article on a website to remind you.

What’s the harm, you say? Think I’m being kind of hard-nosed here? Maybe, but articles like these, which are content-poor, but pretend to address the specific needs of a defined population (but don’t) seem cynical to me. Nobody needs to come to a “disability” site for relationship advice that anyone can follow. Implying, by providing content like this, that the human needs all people share can only be met for people with disabilities on a site specific to that sub-group, is mightily offensive to me. Having a disability usually implies a need for some specialized knowledge; it doesn’t remove anyone from the pool of all humans who populate the world.

Perhaps a more serious objection to Disaboom has to do with questionable content that looks a whole lot like blatant public relations blurbs. There’s nothing dishonest about making a profit, but passing off what are essentially advertisements as editorial content is at least a little sleazy. Here’s one article that looks like it’s straight from the Chicago Chamber of Commerce. Or this one, from Scottsdale, Arizona. I believe that “articles” like these should be identified as exactly what they are: ads.

Ads, and PR releases, aren’t particularly useful in and of themselves. Commercial content that isn’t edited, vetted, or critiqued isn’t particularly useful. They’re just enticements or promises. Shouldn’t a site dedicated to the needs and desires of a population living with disabilities do more than reprint uncredited ads? I think so. Otherwise, what’s the point? You can type “Chicago disability travel” and get a whole bunch more information on your own browser in seconds than you’ll get in Disaboom’s PR reprint. Why on earth would you limit yourself to the information on one, self-serving, website? I wouldn’t.

Moving on to a genuinely disability-related topic, Disaboom’s “Consumer Guide to Adaptive Vehicles” isn’t a legitimate “consumer guide” at all. And, surprise, surprise, it’s also self-serving — in this case, the “self” is the National Mobility Equipment Dealers Assn.. Need an adaptive vehicle? Here’s what you should do:

The first step is contacting a dealer or retailer in your area who is knowledgeable about evaluating both your physical needs and the best adaptive technology solutions for your individual circumstances.

When I required adaptive equipment for a vehicle (and later, when I required an adaptive vehicle), the first thing I discovered is that the dealers were the worst place to go. They knew how to sell, but next to nothing about individual needs or options. I was able to get what I needed only by thoroughly educating myself, and then returning to the dealer and ordering exactly what I specified. That’s the consumer advice I’d give everyone. Dealers exist to push what they’ve got to sell, not necessarily to find or provide what you need. This advice from Disaboom is essentially useless; you might as well be reading an ad. Which, of course, is exactly what you are doing.

And then there’s Disaboom’s “Jobs” section. If you believe that Disaboom has, as they claim, a “list of over 500,000 jobs” for people with disabilities, I have a bridge I’d like to sell you. I didn’t sign up, so I don’t know which job site they’ve affiliated with, but it certainly isn’t their own, and your individual chances of finding meaningful, full-time work won’t be any better because you’ve signed up on Disaboom database than it will be on Monster or any other job site.

Disaboom wants you to sign up to bolster their numbers, but they’ve got nothing special to offer you, and it’s dishonest of the site to pretend it does. Claiming that there are “over 500,000 jobs” under the disability umbrella is highly misleading; these are the same 500,000 jobs for which everyone is competing.

The generic information Disaboom provides about employment looks like a poor re-hash of readily available government information. Why not get it directly from the source?

Those are (still) my beefs. Disaboom’s ability to succeed is very much tied into the idea that a huge proportion of people with disabilities will look to Disaboom, and only Disaboom, for information, advice and social contacts. There’s simply no reason for any sensible person to limit him- or her- self to only one “disability” site as an information resource. As for social networking, it’s fabulous for the users, but it’s just another internet bubble that will burst for investors — if it ever manages to reach the point of having any economic value in the first place.

This is an expensive website with little original or novel content. According to the most recent SEC filings, Disaboom still isn’t making any money; it still looks like a tanker to me. Investors, save your pennies. Social users, have at it: You’re at no risk at all, unless you’d really like to know where editorial content ends and ads begin. Enjoy it while you can; I’m still guessing that Disaboom is going to be a black hole for its investors. From my point of view, Disaboom is trying to fill a need that doesn’t exist, and is doing so not-very-honorably.

Don’t mistake this for a website that has people with disabilities primarily in mind. This is a marketing and investment opportunity, and not a very good one. If you don’t believe me, take a look at this language on the “About” page (the italics are my emphasis):

Disaboom.com is the revolutionary solution to the difficulties faced by an untapped market of more than 650 million adults worldwide living with disabilities

and

the first online company dedicated to providing a comprehensive resource to meet this market’s specific needs with customized expertise.

From the Investors/Overview page:

There are more than 100 million adults worldwide living with disabilities or functional limitations today. Founded and designed by doctors and fellow Disaboomers to meet this untapped market[’s] . . .

I don’t know about you, but I always resent being referred to as “this market”. Disaboom’s backers are ready and willing to serve all those vendors who are already bombarding “this market” in TV ads, through the AARP, online, and in targeted ads in doctors’ offices and lifestyle magazines. Getting that ad revenue will benefit Disaboom’s investors (maybe). What’s not at all clear is how this website will serve actual people who live with disabilities.

Here are some more reassuring words for investors (again, the italics are my emphasis):

Disaboom is in the process of forming key strategic partnerships with a variety of groups including advertisers seeking a highly targeted audience, content and database providers, rehabilitation facilities, and illness and disability support organizations.

and

Through the establishment of carefully selected marketing and cross-promotional relationships . . .

What this says to me is that, if you sign on, they will spam you plenty. They will sell your information to every possible medical supply company, every insurance scam, every outfit that lives to hound “this” unsuspecting “market”. No thanks, fellows. Big medical supply and its friends already have us in the crosshairs, and offering us up on a platter is repulsive.

Inviting us to supply the content so that they can do just that is even worse.

It’s slick, it’s corporate, and I, quite frankly, don’t like the smell. Here’s another point, too: Above all, having a disability is an ultimately individual situation. No two people live with the same, or the same degree, of disability. Merely to assume that all of us who live with a disability fall into the same group (“this untapped market”) is offensive all by itself.

Assuming that ‘people with disabilities’ is a separate demographic from the general population is pretty dull-witted. News flash, guys — most people will live with some type of disability at some point in their lives.

I am in no way against making a profit, but this kind of profit-seeking in the guise of pretending to enable people who are actually being sold and described as an untapped “market” is loathsome. That this “market” includes many vulnerable people who are already facing serious challenges makes me more than a little ill.

On the financial side, this full-bore corporate approach looks like another entrepreneurial disaster-in-waiting.

One blogger, who lives with a disability, claims that she gets paid for writing reviews, and implies you can, too. I didn’t sign on, so I don’t know what the terms are, but if this is true, it explains the poor quality and lightweight nature of the reviews that are already posted. There appears to be an incentive for posting frequently, but with little detailed information.

I suspect the temporary success of Facebook and other social networking sites proved irresistible to the folks behind this misguided scheme, but I doubt that the demographics exist to support a site like Disaboom. This just looks too much like another venture capital opportunity — very reminiscent of the stuff that crashed so frequently in the late 90s.

Disaboom is traded on the OTC Bulletin Board, a warning sign if ever there were one. Its shares are what’s commonly called “penny stocks” — highly volatile and easily manipulated. From Wikipedia:

Stocks traded in OTC markets such as the OTCBB or Pink Sheets are usually thinly traded microcap or penny stocks and are avoided by many investors due to a well-founded fear that share prices are easily manipulated. The SEC issues stern warnings to investors to beware of common fraud and manipulation schemes.

Just because some slicksters call it “Dis[something]” doesn’t mean it’s good for you. Or for me. Or for any of those of us who live with disabilities. Take a look, poke around, be skeptical. And, whatever you do, don’t send them any money. Don’t trust their articles unless they give you good reason to. And don’t give them your personal information unless you don’t mind being included in marketing databases from which you’ll never be able to be removed.

Bloggers (and other writers), if you write for these people, keep your wits about you — if you’re writing for compensation, make sure you get paid fast. If you value your voice, make sure it’s heard, and not muffled by ‘editing’, or an insistence that you write a pre-determined party line.

Reviewers, if you’re writing for pay, it’s a lot more honest if that’s obvious upfront. It’s something people might want to know when deciding how to interpret the post. Full disclosure: it’s better for everyone.

Prove me wrong, and I’ll take it all back. In the meantime, I’ll be here holding my nose.

Related: Disaboom, Take Two