Okay, sure, part of it is because he’s just a glorious dimension-jumping old man who just so happens to have a fabulous taste in sweaters, but there’s a lot more to it.

So lemme just throw this out there:

As someone with a birth defect, Ford Pines’ six fingers and the way his condition is handled mean the world to me.

Yes, I know Ford’s polydactylism wasn’t created with the intention of being overly progressive or representative–it’s a clever trait that gave the author a sense of quirkiness and mystery, and ultimately became an identifiable trademark for both Stanford and the journals.

But in truth, things would’ve been a lot different if the six-finger thing had been just cast aside as “Oh, look at me, I’m the six-fingered author, I just have cooltastic hands and let’s never address this again!” No, Stanford’s birth defect was, in fact, more than just a cool trademark.

It was a pivotal part of his life.

Right off the bat, the fact that Ford was born with an “anomaly” shapes his interests in the weird and unique. It’s something he’s grown up with, and something that’s normal to him, but the fact that it’s abnormal to everyone else only piques his interest in digging deeper, even in childhood.



It’s an authentic response—also, it’s just downright adorable.

And then there’s the teasing–This is something I’ve experienced firsthand as someone born with a congenital defect, and the fact that Ford is so eager to get away from it really hits close to home. So many people have dubbed him a freak that he starts to believe it, and while heartbreaking, it’s also mega realistic.

But there’s one detail that makes Ford’s situation a million times better:

Stanford isn’t ostracized throughout the show for his defect, because there is acceptance in his life. Someone has his back.

Stan’s approach to making his brother feel “normal” was just amazingly genuine and heartwarming to me. He’s never embarrassed, by, pitying towards, or burdened by his brother. He never teases Ford for how he was born or uses it against him, even in moments of anger. In fact, he uses it to emphasize positively why Ford is special. From the “Sixer” nickname to their heartfelt tradition of “high-six,” Ford’s condition is treated as something unique and, in a sense, almost admirable.

And best of all, that admiration continues! Mabel and Dipper both seem to think that Ford’s polydactyl hands are the coolest thing (“Wow, a six-fingered handshake! That’s a full finger friendlier than normal!”), and as he gets older, Ford never seems to be painted into a corner as a “deformed” or “defective” person. He’s just the epic guy with the six fingers and he’s learned to live as such.

And by learning to live, we come to the thing that makes Stanford Pines—and his six fingers—absolutely awesome:

He takes his condition and he freaking owns it.

Not only did Ford overcome his self-judgement about physical things he just couldn’t help, but he actually took them and used them to his advantage. Twisting the teasing and ridicule he’d received into his passion and scientific talent, Ford was able to study something that interested him and that he connected to on a personal level. And he was freaking good at it, too!



(Until the whole, y’know, partnership with a demon triangle. But that’s not what I’m ranting about right now.)

And the six-fingered journal was more than just a quirk—in my eyes, it really symbolized that Ford now saw his “defect” as something truly special. It was a trait that symbolized him, but not one that condemned him. No one is defined by their conditions, but they can sure as hell be empowered by them, and that’s exactly what Ford did.

So in conclusion, yeah, having six fingers is super-duper nifty, but as someone born in a very similar boat, it just takes on a whole new light for me. Gravity Falls could’ve gone two different routes, either completely and grotesquely ostracizing Ford for his defect or completely ignoring it and acting like these things don’t affect real life at all; instead they went right down the middle and (to me at least) created a realistic yet subtle scenario overall.

In truth, addressing Ford’s polydactylism could’ve gone ridiculously amiss. But in the show’s case, it felt super genuine. Plus, Ford is just an epic character overall, birth defect or none!



Sure, it’s no revolutionary feat in the world of representation, but in the end, Stanford Pines just makes me feel confident in myself sometimes. And if there’s some little kid out there with their own congenital “anomalies” that feels the same way?

Well, I think that’s what matters most.