The Word Disability
As a words person, I enjoy considering how language both informs and reflects societal attitudes and perceptions. And, as a disability advocate and professional, I am especially interested in the vocabulary related to disability: how do we – as a society – think and talk about disability? As is the case with much of language, the concept and understanding of disability has morphed over time. This is not simply a reflection of language changes, but a deeper understanding of disability as an identity.
Consider “handicapped,” a term now widely deemed offensive, often called the “H” word within the disability community, akin to the “N” word. Its origins trace back to a popular English game in the 1600s, “hand in cap,” later associated with people begging. Applied to disabled children by 1915, and to all disabled persons by 1958, its continued use on public signs is problematic, evoking the idea of being “held back.”
Then there’s “invalid” (pronounced in-VAlid), meaning “not strong, infirm from sickness, disease, or injury.” While distinct from “invalid” (IN-valid, meaning “not valid”), its identical spelling makes it contentious, leading to a perception of invalidation for many.
Conversely, “cripple,” used freely from pre-950 AD until the mid-20th century to describe someone unable to use their limbs, has been powerfully reclaimed by some disability civil rights movements since the 1980s. This transformation from a pejorative into a term of pride and solidarity is a significant act of self-determination. Other terms like “spaz,” “Crazy,” “Mad,” “sick,” and “gimp,” once insults, are now reappropriated as expressions of pride and shared identity.
The trajectory of many words—from “handicapped” and “spastic” to former medical diagnoses like “idiot” and “lunatic”—reveals a common pattern. They often began neutrally but acquired strong negative or dehumanizing connotations when applied to people with disabilities. This linguistic degradation reflects underlying societal prejudices, reinforcing disability as a negative state to be avoided.
Even seemingly benign phrases like “special needs” are widely considered problematic. It’s often a euphemism, implying “disability” is a shameful word, which reinforces stigma. It can also infantilize and patronize, suggesting needs are “extra” rather than universal human needs requiring different accommodations.
These linguistic shifts are deeply intertwined with evolving conceptual models. The medical model, prevalent in the 19th and early 20th centuries, viewed disability as an individual problem to be cured, leading to pathologizing language. In contrast, the social model, emerging from the Disability Rights Movement, asserts that disability is largely created by societal barriers, not individual impairment. This paradigm shift has driven the push for inclusive language, emphasizing that words matter in fostering a more equitable world.
Understanding this history is crucial. Our language shapes our reality. By choosing respectful, accurate, and empowering terms, we contribute to a society that recognizes disability as a valid and diverse aspect of the human experience.