Remember When We Had Mobile Phones?

Over the weekend, I had the pleasure of recording an interview for The Limb Shift with Professor Brendan Burkett OAM, an Australian Paralympian and esteemed retired academic. The Limb Shift, launching this October, explores authentic stories of life with limb loss and limb difference. Brendan’s journey—sparked by a life-changing accident—offers profound insights into resilience and adaptation. Ahead of our launch, here is a preview of his perspective.

In December 1985, Brendan Burkett’s life changed in an instant following a hit-and-run accident that left him with a broken pelvis and a leg fractured in thirteen places.

When faced with the life-changing decision to amputate his leg on New Year’s Day, Brendan’s characteristic optimism surfaced immediately. “I said, ‘Oh, well, at least I’ll start the year on the right foot,’” he recounts. This perspective became his guiding philosophy: “You’ve got to take a positive approach to things, as annoying, frustrating, and difficult as they are… you’re either going to get on with this or you’re going to lie around and mope.”

Unable to continue playing football, Burkett turned to swimming. The water provided a unique sanctuary, offering a level of freedom that land-based activities could not. “I think swimming was the best thing to do because it gave you that freedom; you didn’t rely on your prosthesis. You were… you were floating. You’re in the water. You were free of other things.”

His entry into high-level competition was almost accidental. While training in a public squad, his competitiveness thrived, even when pitted against able-bodied athletes. He recalls a pivotal moment at the Queensland State Championships, where an official initially tried to prevent him from competing: “An official walked over and said, ‘Oh, listen, you’re not going to be able to swim in this event.’ And I said, ‘Hang on, the event hasn’t even started. You’ve got to give me a go.’” His coach intervened, he was permitted to swim, and this experience eventually led to his inclusion in the Paralympic movement.

While working on oil rigs in the North Sea, he became the first person with a disability to pass a rigorous, multi-hour offshore medical test, proving that traditional limitations were often based on assumption rather than capability. “The message is just, if you want to have a go at something, just have a go, and don’t be limited by this is the tradition, or what we can do or can’t do.”

He later transitioned into biomechanics, a field he describes as the “engineering of sport.” His background provided him with a unique advantage: “I’d look at things from a different lens… I sort of had an engineering [perspective] of how does this work? What are the mechanical principles? Whereas they would struggle with that.” This interdisciplinary approach allowed him to excel in academia and coaching, where he could combine mechanical understanding with the “lived experience of an athlete.”

Looking at the advancements in prosthetics, including osseointegration and neuro-sensors he has seen in the forty years since his amputation, Brendan is optimistic about the future. He believes that by better connecting biological signals to prosthetic components, we are moving toward a reality where human gait can be more seamlessly replicated.

Crucially, he emphasizes the importance of community and seeking support. Reflecting on his time in Paralympic squads, he notes, “You weren’t the only amputee in the swimming squad… you could talk to them about things. How do you put your shoes on? How do you go walking down stairs?”

For those navigating similar challenges, Brendan’s advice is simple: “If you really want to do something, give it a good crack.” He encourages others to avoid self-limiting thoughts. “If you say you can’t, well you’ve already got the answer,” he explains, adding that by simply attempting a task, one can often find a way to adapt, regardless of perceived obstacles.