Often our language implies some people are different from the rest of ‘us’.

Words like ‘disorder’, ‘deficit’ and ‘divergence’ suggest deviance from what, and who, is ordinary.

One such term is ‘special’.

Special means “different from normal” [1] Like a special friend is different from other friends, or a special meal is different from most meals, or a special occasion is different from the everyday.

Except that’s not what we mean, is it?

Because when the term special is used in relation to disabled people, it means different from ‘us’.

Other.

Not ‘normal’.

Special needs

‘Special’ is frequently used in a derogatory way, as in “he’s a bit special”. And the phrase ‘special needs’ (‘my child has special needs’, ‘people with special needs’, ‘she’s special needs’) is often adopted by people who feel uncomfortable saying ‘disabled’.

But this euphemistic use of the term implies disabled is a negative or insulting word and should be avoided, rather than an acknowledgement of the way people with physical and mental impairments are restricted and excluded by the world around them.

‘Special needs’ suggests there’s a ‘problem’ with the person, and they need to be looked after, treated, or fixed.

And that other people (‘us’) need to go ‘above and beyond’ to meet ‘extra’, ‘special’ needs, almost as a favour.

Go on then, maybe, if I must.

The blanket use of the term ‘special needs’ doesn’t clarify the adjustments or support people require, or the barriers people face. It just groups people together. The same as each other. Different from ‘us’.

“Disabled people don’t have ‘special’ needs. What is special about the need to use the loo, go to the park, have clothes that fit?”

– SEIN [2]

We all have the same needs. The basic physiological and safety needs we all need to meet to survive, and the things we need to ensure we thrive. Love. Belonging. Connection. Dignity and respect. Freedom. Acceptance. Inclusion. Participation. Purpose.

Ordinary, everyday, human needs. And human rights.

Jenny Morris observes that a welfare system based on needs rather than rights means “eligibility for benefits and services is still determined by assessment of how much our bodies are affected by impairment and/or illness, rather than the disabling barriers we experience.” Jenny Morris [3]

On a deficit-based assessment of what’s wrong with people.

And a welfare system based on needs not rights means power lies in the hands of whoever is determining that needs are ‘special’ and therefore ‘eligible’.

Special care, support or protection

“Being vulnerable is defined as in need of special care, support, or protection because of age, disability, risk of abuse or neglect.”

– Office for Health Improvement & Disparities [4]

‘Special care.’ ‘Special education.’ ‘Special schools.’ ‘Special transport.’ ‘Special housing.’

Special equals separate. Different from ‘normal’, from the ‘mainstream’.

Special equals separated.

There’s a smattering of the patronising, paternalistic, charity model approach in this language. And more than a dash of blame.

Take, for example, the Children and Families Act 2014, which states “a child or young person has special educational needs if he or she has a learning difficulty or disability which calls for special educational provision to be made for him or her. A child of compulsory school age or a young person has a learning difficulty or disability if he or she – (a) has a significantly greater difficulty in learning than the majority of others of the same age, or (b) has a disability which prevents or hinders him or her from making use of facilities of a kind generally provided for others of the same age in mainstream schools or mainstream post-16 institutions.” [5]

This legal definition implies it’s the young people’s fault that ‘special educational provision’ needs to be made for them. It suggests they have a problem with learning and making use of ‘mainstream facilities’, rather than recognising that the problem lies with one-size-fits-all, ‘mainstream facilities’. Rather than acknowledging the attitudes, policies and environments that create barriers to participation and inclusion – to ordinary lives – and focusing on removing them.

Ordinary

“Our goal is to see mentally handicapped people in the mainstream of life, living in ordinary houses in ordinary streets, with the same range of choices as any citizen, and mixing as equals with the other, and mostly not handicapped, members of their own community.”

– The King’s Fund [6]

So began The King’s Fund report titled ‘An ordinary life’, published in February 1980 and reprinted in July 1982 with the acknowledgment that “there has been widespread and still growing interest in the ideas it contains; and the title itself has for many people become a shorthand way of symbolizing the philosophy which should guide the provision of services for people with mental handicaps.”

Our language may have changed in that time, but the philosophy of disabled people living ordinary lives remains, and Neil Crowther notes “just how much it is echoed in the Social Care Future vision of everyone ‘living in the place we call home, with the people and things that we love, in communities where we look out for one another, doing the things that matter to us.” [7]

As Tricia Nicoll observed when giving evidence to the House of Lords Adult Social Care Committee, “everybody now coming out of a pandemic can really understand the idea of just wanting life to be a bit ordinary. Most of us just want a really ordinary life.” [8]

“It’s only when the ordinary becomes extraordinary by virtue of accident, illness, injury, that we realise how precious the ‘ordinary’ is. Going out with your mates. Picking up a bit of shopping for your mum. This very ordinary stuff is the stuff of life.”

– Clenton Farquharson [9]

Gloriously ordinary

“I started to use the idea of something being gloriously ordinary when my kids got to be in their mid-teens… It felt like up until then, we had done pretty well in the world of ordinary – local school, local friends, the girl had piano lessons from a local teacher and the boy went to Saturday cinema… As parents, we were really clear that they were going to have the same day to day life, opportunities and experiences as other young people of their age. As they got into teenage years it seemed that the gap widened and the system was much keener for the ‘special’ alternative – the expectation that the boy would do his Duke of Edinburgh through the youth club for people with learning disabilities, or that the girl should go to the ‘special’ swimming session… I found myself repeatedly telling people that I wanted things to be ordinary – ‘gloriously ordinary’ and that seemed to resonate with people.”

– Tricia Nicoll [10]

In defining what she means by ‘gloriously ordinary’, Tricia Nicoll explains it’s a combination of the ‘mundane’ and the ‘heart sing’. The mix of the day-to-day essentials, and the stuff that really makes life worth living. And of course, the things that some of us see as mundane give other people great pleasure, and equally what is glorious to some of us might be the stuff of nightmares for others.

We’re all different. Not just some of us. Yet fundamentally we are also all the same.

We all want, and need, life to be ordinary. Gloriously ordinary.

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The use of the term ‘special’ stigmatises and separates.

It’s loaded, and dangerous – eroding the identity and devaluing the human needs, human rights, and humanity of too many people.

If we’re genuinely committed to participation and inclusion, to respecting difference and ensuring equality of opportunity, it’s time to change this narrative.

To recognise disabled people as ordinary, equal human beings.

And to focus on making sure everyone can live gloriously ordinary lives.

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References

[1] Special. Collins dictionary

[2] Disability Awareness Training: Addressing attitudinal barriers, SEIN, 8 April 2024

[3] Welfare reform and the social model of disability, Jenny Morris, 12 September 2013

[4] Vulnerabilities: applying All Our Health, Office for Health Improvement & Disparities, GOV.UK, 29 March 2022

[5] Children and Families Act 2014, HM Government, 2014

[6] An ordinary life : comprehensive locally-based residential services for mentally handicapped people, The King’s Fund, February 1980

[7] From closing down institutions to opening up communities, Neil Crowther, Making Rights Make Sense, 18 February 2024

[8] Corrected oral evidence: Adult Social Care, House of Lords Adult Social Care Committee, UK Parliament, 21 March 2022

[9] The care we want, Clenton Farquharson, Think Local Act Personal, 8 April 2023

[10] Why it matters, Tricia Nicoll, Gloriously Ordinary Lives