Adventures in Naming EBD Realities: How Words Matter for Special Education

Abstract

General labels tend to obscure objective realities upon which disability rights are based and can deny individuals with disabilities their educational and civil rights. Undoubtedly, stigma can come from labels unnecessarily categorizing people into separate groups. However, stigma does not reside primarily in disability categories/terms but in what people think of words’ referents. The replacement of the old disability categories/terms with new ones is a case of what is called the “euphemism treadmill,” showing how concepts and mentally represented realities, not words, are the key issue. However, in the case of disabilities, scientific names are unavoidable for the purposes of research, education, advocacy, and social welfare. Some people try to avoid naming special education and its derivatives just as they do in the case of disability categories. We argue that scientifically validated disability and special education labels are necessary and legitimate classifications required for progress in disability research and practice. They provide the most direct route to legally protecting and serving individuals with educational disabilities.

Naming a concept or phenomenon is a fundamental cognitive function and is needed for scientific progress. We must say the word or words to know what we are talking about or thinking about saying. Furthermore, we categorize by using names for the phenomena we observe, objects as well as their properties, actions, states, or conditions. These names allow mental representation and categorization (Medin et al., 2005). Moreover, naming involves using a conventional linguistic label attached to an object or phenomenon to identify it and make social communication possible (Bunge, 2003). Accurately naming a particular phenomenon is part of any scientific field and cannot be avoided except by denying that a particular phenomenon exists or simply ignoring it (Kauffman & Anastasiou, 2018). Naming with specificity and precision is especially important in any scientific endeavor because it allows scholars and practitioners to communicate with each other clearly, efficiently, and quickly (Kauffman et al., 2008; Kisak, 2015; Lutz, 1989).

Of course, naming and the concept or phenomenon being specified can be misused or abused, especially in the public domain, including the use of epithets and demeaning nicknames. Some of this language is specifically designed to hurt, attack, and demean others. The hurt is not in the name itself but in the understanding of the word or phrase. For example, “socialist,” “liberal,” “conservative,” “gay,” “homosexual,” and many other words and phrases have legitimate uses but can be weaponized and used as slurs. Moreover, what is considered epithet and what is considered acceptable language change with time (McWhorter, 2017).

In the early 21st century, many educators believe that some words or topics are simply off limits for discussion, are only named or discussed with considerable trepidation, or, even worse, that the concept or phenomena being named does not exist (Ryan & Baucom, 2022). This is a time in which certain words or terms are not to be said and some topics are not to be discussed (Miller, 2022). This is particularly problematic in special education and related fields that deal with disabilities—or whatever euphemism is used instead of “disability.” And this is a particularly thorny problem in special education for those with emotional and behavioral disorders (EBDs; see Maag & Kauffman, 2022).

Adventures in Naming

The manipulation of names might begin with the assumption that language can create reality ex nihilo (out of nothing), which is different from the assumption that naming reflects thinking and specification of a real concept or phenomenon. Critical thinking allows us to assess the degree of truth in a statement (or, rather, its construct validity), the degree to which words or language accurately represent the phenomena to which they refer (Kauffman & Farkas, 2022). However, the logical fallacy—that naming something creates it or that not naming something causes it not to exist—continues in the minds of some. The once-popular hypothesis of linguistic relativity, especially in its strong form of linguistic determinism (Whorf’s hypothesis, the idea that thought is determined by language), has not been confirmed (Chen, 2007; January & Kako, 2007; Pinker, 1994a, 1994b; Scholz et al., 2022).

First, beyond the field of linguistics, few cognitive scientists believe that the strong form of the linguistic relativity hypothesis (i.e., language determines thought) is correct (Kihlstrom & Park, 2018; Pinker, 1994b); to clarify, we note that a mild form of Whorf’s hypothesis (i.e., language influences thought in some instances) is researchable and discussable. Whorf’s hypothesis is often associated with the famous but erroneous example of Whorf's observation that Eskimos (see Inuit people) have many words for snow, implying the power that the snowy environment and cultural setting have on the structure of language and thought (Martin, 1986). However, this example is not as remarkable as it initially seems, as American skiers also have various words for snow, indicating that expertise in a particular domain leads to a more extensive vocabulary (Kihlstrom & Park, 2018).

Second, people constantly coin new words, strive for accuracy of those words, and translate from one language to another, none of which could happen if the ideas expressed by words were determined by the language itself (Pinker, 1994b). Third, words are arbitrary. The word “dog” does not look, walk, run, or bark like a dog, but we all know it means dog because we have made an arbitrary association between a sound and a meaning (Pinker, 1994a, 1994b). Fourth, anthropological records and controlled studies suggest that scientific evidence shows thought comes before language and can be nonverbal (Pinker, 1994b). In Pinker’s (1994b) words, “there is no scientific evidence that languages dramatically shape their speakers' ways of thinking” (p. 58) and “[p]eople do not think in English or Chinese or Apache. They think in a language of thought” (p. 81), in mentalese (see also Rescorla, 2019). In fact, individuals without language can have mentalese—babies and nonhuman animals, for example (Pinker, 1994b).

Clear and accurate use of language describes realities precisely, illuminates public and personal truths, and enables debate about how those truths are best described. However, language can misinform, misrepresent, and deceive (Dutton, 2020; Pinker, 1994a, 1994b), although, as we have mentioned, language does not, in and of itself, have the power to create reality ex nihilo. Language can be used to motivate action or discourage action, convey important truths or create belief in lies, disguise falsehoods, or reveal veracity. In some respects, language has great power. Words can be used to hurt or heal, to rally or discourage.

Some consider certain words too horrid to repeat or acknowledge, even if they reflect underlying objective realities. Or if these realities must be acknowledged, then they are to be named only with what are considered acceptable words or with euphemistic words or phrases or circumlocutions that are intended to avoid a harsh or distasteful reality (Lutz, 1989). For example, “passed away” is a euphemism for “died,” and “its function is to protect the feelings of another person but also to communicate our concern over that person's feelings during a period of mourning” (Lutz, 1989, p. 4). But when a euphemism is designed to mislead, deceive, or cover up the unpleasant, a euphemism becomes doublespeak (Lutz, 1989). For example, “the recent unpleasantness” has been used as a Confederate States’ doublespeak for the Civil War, and “war to end slavery” was recast as “war to preserve states’ rights.” “Sales associate” might be preferred to “clerk” and “custodian” to “janitor.”

Some words are proscribed, considered wrong or inappropriate, and to be avoided because of the negative emotional valence or stigma they carry. However, any “new” or preferred term will at some point carry the same stigma as the replaced word when people figure out its meaning. Pinker (1994b) coined the term “euphemism treadmill,” suggesting we tend to invent new words more pleasing to the hearer for emotionally charged referents—unpleasant things or situations. However, the new, euphemistic word becomes tainted after a while by association, and a new term must be found, which then acquires its own negative connotations, and so on (McWhorter, 2017; Pinker, 1994b, 2003). For example, “water closet” becomes “toilet” which becomes “bathroom” which becomes “restroom,” and so on (Pinker, 1994b, 2003). McWhorter (2017) explained why the euphemism treadmill is inevitable, why we had the evolution from “crippled” to “handicapped” to “differently abled,” and why some new term will be invented referring to what was once the referent of each of these words or phrases.

Kitchner (2022) has noted the contemporary controversy about the use of the word “abortion” in the discussion of reproductive rights. Also, McWhorter (2017) tells of his encounter with the euphemism “family planning.” The euphemism treadmill shows that concepts and reality, not words, are the driver (Pinker, 1994b, 2003). We can give a concept a new name, but the name will sooner or later become colored by the concept, especially if there are potentially negative characteristics associated with that concept. In other words, the concept or the mentally represented reality does not become permanently altered by a new name (Pinker, 1994b). The belief that stigma resides primarily in accurate and legitimate terms, not the concepts or the mentally represented realities to which they refer, is a common but problematic belief. Eventually, people figure out that words have the same or very similar meanings. For example, “dog” and “canine” have very similar meanings, and dogs do not become either more or less dog-like because we refer to them as canines.

Two realities we cannot escape are these: First, if we observe a phenomenon, then we must have a name, a label, or word for it or simply ignore it, as if it did not exist; if disabilities become nameless in attempts to be fully inclusive or for whatever reason, then the people with them tend to disappear (Ahrbeck, 2022; Brodkorb, 2014). Second, if we find some reality unpleasant, we inevitably find ourselves on a euphemism treadmill in which we try to disguise or downplay the potentially negative characteristics of it.

Refusal to Name and Misuse of Names

The seeds were sown for discrediting special education and undermining services for individuals with disabilities several decades ago in publications such as those by the Stainbacks (e.g., Stainback & Stainback, 1984, 1991; see also Kauffman, 2022; Kauffman, Hallahan, & Pullen, 2022) and are now in full flower. More recently, Slee (2018) suggested that special educational needs are mythical and wrote that “. . . inclusive education is a call for a reformulation of schooling wherein ‘special’ and ‘regular’ are jettisoned . . .” (p. 82). In another example, in March, 2022, Hornby and Kauffman received an email from guest editors of a proposed special issue of an online journal suggesting that writers of articles should avoid “disabling language and rhetoric (e.g., “students with SEN [special educational needs]”; “students with behavioral problems”) and so on.

Among the most common and persistent misuses of names is saying that special education follows a medical model. Kauffman and Hallahan (1974) noted that misuse half a century ago. Nevertheless, the medical model has its contemporary critics. For example, Cornett and Knackstedt (2020) counted it among the “original sins” of special education in the United States: “Chief among them is the original sin of adopting a national policy built on a medical model that identifies deficits, diagnoses disability and prescribes treatments in controlled conditions meant to remediate the deficit symptoms of the disability” (p. 507). Cornett and Knackstedt (2020) go on to criticize the Individuals with Disabilities Education Act (IDEA) because it allows judgment regarding the least restrictive environment (LRE) rather than requiring universal placement of all children with disabilities in classrooms with their nondisabled peers, presumably under the assumption that such universal placement is necessary to achieve social justice.

One might make the case that special education in the United States more closely resembles a legal model than a medical model (Anastasiou & Kauffman, 2019; Kauffman, 2007). Even Cornett and Knackstedt’s article seems to make that case by focusing on law and regulation, especially General Comment #3 of Article 24 of the United Nation’s Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities (CRPD), which makes no mention of special education (Anastasiou et al., 2018). Our point here is not only the misuse of the term “medical model” but the fact that what is not named in any taxonomy—scientific, medical, or legal (e.g., special education in IDEA is a legal taxonomy)—is likely to receive scant attention in educational policy, if any at all. A given term may be relatively trivial, but the taxonomy is not.

Moreover, “medical model” is used inappropriately by many to suggest that special education sees problems as located only in children, whereas the problem should be considered only in the organization or social environment (Anastasiou & Kauffman, 2013). This is a serious devaluation of disabling realities and seems to suggest that there is actually nothing about children who have disabilities that needs treatment or change. The logical corollary is that students with a disability that adversely affects learning do not need remedial and specialized instruction to maximize their learning—at least not unless they are provided in a general education environment. Such is not the case, we argue, and failure to come to grips with the reality of harmful conditions and atypical predicaments of children’s disabilities leads to students’ mistreatment. We must name the conditions they have and the services they need as precisely as possible and locate the individual’s body where such services are best delivered. Failure to do either of these things (naming and locating) bodes ill for morally defensible theory, research, and professional practice (Anastasiou & Kauffman, 2011, 2013). The issue remains, however, the best words to use in describing particular atypical conditions, predicaments, needs, and services.

Alternative Names

In the area of disability, “mental retardation” is now a forbidden term in many circles, considered by some to be horrific, often obliquely said to be “the R word.” The ARC, the acronym of the Association for Retarded Citizens, is now simply called, phonetically, “the ark” or known only by its acronym (i.e., the A-R-C to avoid the word “retarded”). The “American Association on Mental Retardation” and its American Journal on Mental Retardation (at one time the American Journal of Mental Deficiency) were renamed to avoid “the R word” (the organization is now known as the American Association on Intellectual and Developmental Disabilities; its journal is now named the American Journal on Intellectual and Developmental Disabilities). These name changes involving what is now called intellectual and developmental disabilities were debated decades ago by Turnbull et al. (2002) who noted both the inevitability of name changes and that the underlying realities or characteristics, if properly specified and defined, do not change.

The Council for Exceptional Children’s division, previously known as the Council for Children with Behavioral Disorders (CCBD), has been renamed the Division for Emotional and Behavioral Health (DEBH), avoiding “behavioral disorders” in its title. As of this writing, the professional journal of DEBH remains Behavioral Disorders, and the Journal of Emotional and Behavioral Disorders has not changed its name. The Midwest Symposium for Leadership in Behavior Disorders has not so far been renamed the Midwest Symposium for Leadership in Emotional and Behavioral Health, nor has Teacher Educators of Children with Behavior Disorders yet changed its name to Teacher Educators for Children’s Emotional and Behavioral Health or Teacher Educators of Children with Behavioral Challenges. Still, naming is among the debated issues in special education for students whose behavior is extremely problematic (Maag & Kauffman, 2022).

We are not necessarily objecting to the recent name changes that have been made (e.g., from mental deficiency to mental retardation to intellectual disability or from EBDs to emotional and behavioral health). We are pointing out that what matters is considering whether a concept linked to a term or statement has a high degree of precision and validity (Bunge, 2017). The changes should be justified analytically and with rational arguments. Finding the best label to describe a disability is a legitimate aim. What is problematic is the unfounded belief that equivalent non-derogatory labels will permanently reduce or eliminate the stigma carried by the condition. If we find medical, technological, or educational ways to eradicate the condition itself, then it is clear that the label or word no longer applies.

Name changes should be justified analytically and with rational arguments. For example, the term Serious Emotional Disturbance (SED) used as the federal definition in IDEA has long been debated. Forness and Knitzer (1992) proposed a change in the term, from SED to EBD. This recommended change was not based on political correctness, nor was it intended to create additional ambiguities. Rather, Forness and Knitzer (1992) made a cogent, rational, science-based argument as to why the previous term was inadequate in capturing the realities of this population of children with disabilities and why this new proposed term would lead to greater precision in accurately characterizing students with disabilities in this domain.

In Portugal, Decree Law No. 54/2018 abandoned categories associated with disabilities and special educational needs—an anti-science decree. The change aimed to end “segregation” and discrimination based on diagnosis or clinical labels, as well as to suppress special education legislation, as claimed by the Organisation for Economic Co-operation and Development (OECD, 1992, p. 92). This may be well-intentioned, but it is exceedingly unlikely to have its intended effect.

Disability of any kind, including EBD, has been recast by some educators as just another form of diversity like gender or national origin, or skin color. Educators are then urged to treat all forms of diversity similarly in schools (e.g., see Stainback & Stainback, 1991; Slee, 2018, 2019; SWIFT Schools, 2023). This is said to be justifiable, although addressing a particular diversity may require that those considered diverse in a particular way be treated differently, not treated the same as others who are not diverse in the same way (Harden, 2021; Kauffman, Burke, & Anastasiou, 2022). However, such differences in treatment are assumed by some to be acceptable only if such special treatment occurs in a general educational environment, not in any separate place. But even that principle may be questioned. For example, Baglieri et al. (2011) wrote that the normal child is mythical, implying logically that exceptional children are, too. If all children are typical—to circumvent the common confusion between sociological and statistical meanings of the word “normal”—then it will be difficult to defend the view that a different and special treatment should be provided. Perhaps skin hue and parentage are realities, but other characteristics involving children’s development (disabilities or behavioral disorders in particular) are not.

For decades, some have considered skin hue or parentage to be similar to disability in implications for education, that students with disabilities are “segregated” like those of color if they are placed in special facilities or if special services are provided in other than typical, regular, or general education classes (e.g., Stainback & Stainback, 1991). Some may claim that democracy demands complete inclusion of students with disabilities in regular public school classes because special educational needs are a mythical social construct (e.g., Slee, 2018). Our contention is that not only are special educational needs and educational disabilities realities, but that a caring and humane society demands that these particular realities be accommodated. In schools, this includes organizational change and specialized instruction, which sometimes also requires special educational environments that are most likely to meet individual students’ special educational needs (e.g., Colley & Tilbury, 2022; Gordon-Gould & Hornby, 2023; Harden, 2021; Imray & Colley, 2017; Kauffman, 2020; Kauffman et al., 2023; Kauffman & Hornby, 2020).

Choosing not to use the name of something, especially a name that accurately reflects an objective reality, is especially problematic if that name is scientifically valid. Although it is logical to think of the validity of disability categories in simple yes-or-no terms, it may be more beneficial to think instead in terms of a continuum: from a language suggesting not affecting cognition to affecting it somewhat (i.e., to X degree), to affecting it somewhat more (i.e., Y degree), to affecting it even more strongly (i.e., to Z degree), to affecting it very strongly (i.e., to Nth degree). Following this logic in the case of intellectual disabilities, we can see an evolution of abandoned terms such as “idiot,” “imbecile,” and “moron” to terms considered more polite and less stigmatizing such as “mentally retarded” and “intellectually disabled.” One could also suggest changing “behavior disorder” to something like “challenging behavior,” which could be considered better than all the previous terms. Following the discussion on the euphemism treadmill, it seems that the benefits, such as less stigma of the new term (e.g., “intellectual disability,” “cognitive impairment,” “developmental disability,” “challenging behavior”), will be rather small and of relatively short duration if the new term is not accompanied by a new scientific understanding of the condition or progress in the treatment of the condition (e.g., consider tuberculosis, cancer, and HIV). We can give a concept a new name (i.e., “challenging behavior,” “developmental disability,” “neurodiversity”), but the name will sooner or later become colored by the meaning—the concept and the mentally represented reality (the condition itself) that do not become permanently freshened by a new name (Pinker, 1994b). That is, the euphemism treadmill of disability labels shows that concepts, not words, are primary in people’s minds (Pinker, 2003).

The euphemism treadmill is not without cost to both scientific progress and practice. Constant shifts in terms may have undesirable side effects, especially impeding funding, research, and policy. In the public domain, a portion of the public adapts to new terms after some delay. Some people who do not maintain stereotypes or prejudices but are older or distant from university, media, and government spheres may be called bigots for innocently using passe terms like “mental retardation,” “behavioral disorder,” or “autism” (which is now popularly referred to as “neurodiversity”; see Kauffman, Anastasiou, Felder, et al., 2022). Furthermore, changing the name of a condition just for peace of mind may make some people suspicious of the field of study or profession and search for ulterior motives or make light of changing names (Huntington, 2018).

Naming and Discussion

Any scientific endeavor includes naming, implying a taxonomy that aims at specificity and precision using scientific evidence in a self-correcting process (Bunge, 2017). Thus, language can become increasingly differentiated, specific, and based on correspondence between words and a particular phenomenon (Kauffman, 2013). This process is used in highly scientific fields of study (Bunge, 2017). Therefore, the appeal to abandon diagnostic naming or to use only more general labels, such as those proposed by SWIFT Schools (2023) in providing multi-tiered systems of support (MTSS) or in Portuguese law No. 54/2018 (universal measures, selective measures, additional measures; OECD, 2022), is a source of confusion (Anastasiou et al., 2020). Terms can, indeed, be misused, abused, poorly understood, or confusing (e.g., see Anastasiou & Bantekas, in press, for discussion and clarification of terms such as “rights” and “inclusion”). However, one way of misusing terms is to misname (use the wrong word or use the word incorrectly). Misuse can also involve purposely or nefariously using a vague word for a condition, state of affairs, or service when a more specific term is necessary (e.g., “medical treatment,” “law enforcement,” “special education,” “special needs education,” and “disability,” are relatively vague terms that often need added specificity; see McKenna, 2023). A false assumption is that using a very general term, euphemism, or circumlocution for something makes that thing somehow more acceptable or real, but the opposite is true.

Furthermore, what is not named cannot be considered, discussed, addressed, or accommodated, whether it is a reality or whether it is hypothetical. The more general the terms used (e.g., neurodiversity, neuroatypical), the more general the discussion must be. Although naming is essential, specific names can be misused and become abusive (e.g., see Kauffman & Anastasiou, 2018). However, failure to name something or describe a characteristic inherent in a concept can also imply that it is not worth discussing or does not exist. For example, as noted above, the United Nation’s 2016 CRPD Article 24, General Comment #3, which promotes full inclusion, makes no mention whatsoever of special education, the implication being that it is not worth discussing or considering (see Anastasiou et al., 2018; Hyatt & Hornby, 2017).

There is indeed a spectrum of human diversity related to disability. However, we do not wish to make disability or any other type of diversity unmentionable, and we do not want to see educational disability “canceled” or to be considered something not to be named, discussed, or debated. Neither do we think that terms such as “special needs,” “behavior problems,” “special education,” “emotional disability,” “intellectual disability,” “behavioral disorder,” and many other labels in common professional use are inherently abusive or that just the naming itself creates stigma.

However, it appears that the term “special needs” in particular is seen as inappropriate by at least some proponents of disability studies, as in their opinion it fosters “segregation” and implies that individuals with disabilities require special rights instead of universal human rights (Andrews & Forber-Pratt, 2022; Slee, 2018, 2019). The question, then, is how to guarantee the rights of children with disabilities to free appropriate public education (FAPE), which often requires more resources than most other children need. If this special need and special education cannot be named anymore, then it is questionable whether the goal of FAPE for children with disabilities will be met.

An old colloquialism is, “All progress requires change, but not all change is progress.” Admittedly, progress requires change, but some change is ill advised. The changes known as radical reforms may certainly be reforms, but it is often unclear whether the outcome is progressive or regressive, perhaps even radically so. Proposed reforms, even those well-intentioned, may claim to be progressive and at first glimpse often seem to be. On further thought and critical examination, however, some reforms are seen to be retrograde steps, to be based on illogical presumptions, to be recursions of old practices and superstitions, to be unnecessarily restrictive of thought and behavior, to be inconsistent with what we know about human beings, to reflect inhumane treatment, and to fail to ensure human rights. In short, the principle of caveat emptor (let the buyer beware) is as true of reform proposals as of material goods. Indeed, we risk being fooled by the artful misuse of the language we use to communicate about concepts of reality. And by assuming that in the case of disabilities, including EBD, language is a problem or creates a problem such as stigma or horrors such as segregation and eugenics, we are at risk of denying the very real problems of providing an appropriate education for all, including FAPE for individuals with disabilities.

History and Examples of Naming

Historically, naming something offers us lessons from which we might learn. First, we consider the role of naming in the development of any field of study or practice. Second, we consider attempts, successful and unsuccessful, to avoid the stigma of names. Finally, we apply renaming and naming prescriptions to other fields to illustrate the limitation of such practices in special education.

As any field of study or practice progresses, it becomes more elaborated and develops a more sophisticated set of names. In a mature field, names become better attached to empirical observation, more specific, and more differentiated (Bunge, 2017; Kauffman et al., 2008). This is a long-standing observation but one to which those who resist labeling vigorously object. Statements about labels often reflect a partial truth—for example, “but education is different.” We reply to these types of statements, “precisely, and that is why naming is important—we call it education, not something else.”

Another argument against naming is the objection that education has no clear, unequivocal definition. Its boundaries are sometimes vague, uncertain, and open to manipulation and misinterpretation. This argument, we might note, is true of many named entities and fields of study, if not of most or all of them. However, the accuracy of names and their descriptions becomes more precise with the evolution of science and growth of objective knowledge (Popper, 1979). In any field of study, progress heavily depends on finer and finer distinctions and the proliferation of labels to describe those distinctions (Kauffman et al., 2008). Sometimes distinctions are found to be incorrect or unreliable, and the labels are therefore changed or abandoned, but the process of labeling observed differences continues (Popper, 1979).

Attempts to avoid stigma by prohibiting various terms, including shaming people who use them legitimately or attempting to mislead or fool people with name changes, are instructive. A variety of euphemistic terms have been used to make unpleasant realities seem less unpleasant, such as alternative words (e.g., “neutralize,” “enhanced interrogation”) for realities like kill, war, die, death, sick, bomb, torture, and a variety of other unpleasant actions, conditions, or realities. The words do not change harsh realities, although they may change people’s emotional reactions to them. Worse, the more reality can be masked or misrepresented, the greater the success of such renaming. Little wonder, then, that people seek “softer” or less gut-wrenching terms for unpleasant realities of any kind or simply deny those realities. Little wonder also that people search out the most caustic terms for things of which they disapprove (e.g., “segregated” for any special education practiced outside the regular classroom).

Naming and Denial

Suppose we tried to deny children’s special educational needs by silencing the terms used and calling them social constructions in the sense of myths. We could say that myths include not only special educational needs but also efforts by specialists to address them, specialists who labor under the mythical assumption that one “size” or treatment cannot be appropriate for all. The contention of those who argue against naming special needs of children is that all children need the same things or just have “regular” needs, such as love, nurturing, clothing, shelter, movement, education, social relationships, access to the community, belonging, and feeling valued.

One popular strategy is to rename a disability as something everyone has, under the assumption that those with a special problem will not feel discriminated against or called out. Perhaps the most popular of these is to use “challenge” or “challenged.” After all, who does not have a challenge or is not challenged? This gives people without disability the opportunity to say they are not actually “challenged,” vitiating the term almost immediately. And it requires service providers to try to deny they are “labeling” or saying anything inappropriate when they use the term. It becomes a code soon broken, and “challenged” quickly becomes the object of ridicule and jest. If the term is still assumed to apply to everyone, then the user identifying a case in which it is used for a particular disability must qualify it (e.g., “behavioral challenge” or “intellectual challenge”) and, as well, use some form of “wink and nod” to distinguish it from the usual.

Children deserve better thinking than that reflected by the denial of their disabilities and use of obvious euphemisms. Some children do have needs not shared by all. Moreover, some children’s special needs involve specialist education, and sometimes this education is best provided in special places. Moreover, those who argue that individuals may have special needs that do not make them distinctly different from others (e.g., Schifter & Hehir, 2022) must confront the matter of distinguishing special from nonspecial needs and determining just what those needs are, as well as where they are most likely to be met.

Practical Implications of Failure to Specify

Let us imagine how failure to name specifics might affect work other than teaching. Suppose education were to become just “education,” with no need for “special” or “general” (perhaps “science education,” “music education,” “physical education” are ok?). Think of examples of names and naming. Imagine a world in which a mechanic could request nothing more specific than “tool” or, at best, “wrench.” Or consider a world in which “sick” and “well” are considered outdated designations or, to paraphrase Slee (2018, p. 82), imagine that . . . the new medicine is a call for a reformulation of medical treatment wherein “ill” and “well” are jettisoned and the hospitalization of individuals with “illness” is seen as a relic of a bygone age. Nice imagination, perhaps, but inconsistent with the world in which we live today—and quite probably the world of our own grandchildren and theirs.

As McKenna (2023) has suggested, we need better, more specific terminology in describing disabilities if we are to provide better-targeted services. The problem is that our terminology—the words in our vocabulary regarding disability—is not specific enough to capture the many differences in disabilities. Thus, more general, less specific terms are a regression, not progress.

Names and Stigma

Renaming has its limits (Corrigan, 2014; Jansen-van Vuuren, & Aldersey, 2020; Werner & Abergel, 2018). It is also possible that stigma from a previous label is transferred to the new label (Werner & Abergel, 2018). In most cases, unpleasantness or stigma “follows the words.” That is, when people figure out what a word means (e.g., “passed” means “died”; “behaviorally challenged” means “behaviorally disordered”), then the effort to avoid the reality by renaming is for naught. Then, too, replaced words may become commonly accepted derogations. Perhaps “disordered” will take its place in the list of words used only to derogate.

Edouard Seguin called what is now to be mentioned only as “the R word” “idiocy” in the 19th century without fear of being criticized for using that word (Seguin, 1866). In the mid-19th century, “idiocy” was as legitimate as “intellectual disability” is today and considered no less acceptable than “mentally retarded” was a century later. Again, we point out that many times stigma is not primarily in the word(s) but in what people make of what it (they) designate(s).

A more successful strategy for reducing stigma without misrepresenting reality has been working on accepting and understanding the difference(s) to be named rather than changing the word denoting that difference. Many different interventions at the individual, family, and societal levels help combat stigma and foster acceptance and belonging (Jansen-van Vuuren, & Aldersey, 2020). Language can be stigmatizing—we do not doubt that. But by erasing terms like “special education,” “special needs,” “behavior disorder,” “depressive disorder,” “obsessive-compulsive disorder,” “anxiety disorder,” “bipolar disorder,” “post-traumatic stress disorder,” and so on, we are apt to lose legal rights and services that empower children, youth, and families with skills and attitudes that may reduce stigma. Moreover, the more precisely we can name a phenomenon—the greater the reality-based precision of our vocabulary—the better (McKenna, 2023). In addition, self-advocacy groups for people who experience high stigma, such as people with EBD, are important to improve self-esteem and identity. Positive interactions with people with a variety of conditions we call disabilities help to reduce stigma (Werner & Abergel, 2018). Those positive interactions need not permeate every environment and may backfire if forced where they are inappropriate.

Rather than focusing on circumlocutions and avoidance of certain words and the much-discussed topic of the “identity-first language” versus “person-first language” (e.g., “disabled person” vs. “person with a disability” or “people with autism spectrum disorder” vs. “autistic people,” or “behaviorally disordered child” vs. “child with a behavioral disorder” or “child with challenging behavior”) to designate such conditions as disabilities and their categories, we might more wisely work on perception and understanding of the conditions to which they refer. In addition, further research is needed to improve programs that reduce stigma, including words that do so (Kauffman & Badar, 2013; Werner & Abergel, 2018). Stigma is far more likely to be lessened by better understanding of what words refer to and better treatment than by changing words. True, words sometimes need changing, but they are only short-term, stop-gap measures. Changing the words may temporarily make understanding the referent more palatable, but such changes do little or even nothing to address the long-term problems of stigma and misunderstanding.

Apparently, at least two different sets of assumptions or worldviews involving the nature of disability and impairment underlie approaches to naming (Anastasiou & Kauffman, 2013). Cultural models of disability (e.g., the British social model, the American minority model) specifically examine how disability is portrayed in a given society. This includes movies, media, and other representations, including language. These models, of course, have some value in that they can address and deconstruct prejudices against people with disabilities. However, they can not only deconstruct negative views of disability but also question the existence of a disability or the underlying impairment under a postmodern perspective (Anastasiou & Kauffman, 2013; Shakespeare, 2013).

If impairment itself becomes a social construct, then by deconstructing it—for example, by renaming it or not naming it at all—it may become invisible or linguistically nonexistent. This puts people with impairments at risk, for without naming a condition and addressing it as effectively as possible—for example, by providing extra services or special education—the impairment may be considered trivial. The words we use to name a disability should describe the problem as accurately and specifically as possible and be supported by empirical evidence. Of course, there is no pure observational language, as all languages are impregnated with theories, but a distinctive ability of science is to correct errors that are detected (Bunge, 2017; Popper, 1979).

Emotional and Behavioral Disorders; Specific Disabilities; Special Education: Let’s Say Their Names Without Apology

Two fantasies inconsistent with realities are these: first, that by not naming children’s disabilities or special educational needs, we make their predicaments nonexistent; second, that disabilities and special needs do exist but that special needs education or special education is a relic of the past because education can effectively serve all in an undesignated, all-inclusive version of schooling. Another popular but naive notion about labels and cut scores is illustrated by this: “. . . we must advance and secure acceptance of a needs-based, label-free public policy. For far too long, who gets what has been determined by who calls whom by what term and who defines the beneficiaries by what cut-off score” (Turnbull et al., 2002, p. 69).

We must have a word—a label—to communicate coherently about needs. We must say what they are. A label-free world is a notion detached from reality. Yes, we may debate and change the label we use to designate a need, but without a label we have only incoherent mumbling, at best, about special needs. Furthermore, we may debate or change measurement instruments, but if we measure something repeatedly we are certain to get a statistical distribution of measurements, and this is especially true if we are measuring individuals’ traits. If we have no cut score for qualifying for services, then we cannot say who is qualified to be served and who does not qualify (Kauffman & Lloyd, in press). The reality of the need for labels and the reality of the need for cut scores will not disappear because we do not like them and want to avoid them.

Special education has a long and proud history of serving the needs of students with disabilities. Moreover, the field of EBD has provided and continues to provide critical research of interventions for students with emotional and behavioral problems that interfere with their education. Those receiving or advocating for special education should not fall prey to intellectual dead ends. Advocates for special education and those with EBD must defend against attempts to neutralize the names of these realities or deny their lawfulness, rightfulness, and fairness in meeting the needs of individuals with disabilities. Students with disabilities have special and sometimes unique needs. They often require special education based on their learning needs (Anastasiou et al., 2018). The special educational needs of students based on a disability are entitled to FAPE, including specialized, individualized instruction and placement. This is a reality denied by some (e.g., Baglieri et al., 2011; Cornett & Knackstedt, 2020; Slee, 2018). However, there is a direct conceptual line between naming and appropriate services for individuals with disabilities. No special name for your special need, no special service.

Suggestions that disabilities, special education, and EBD should not be named because they are myths or their names are outdated reflect callous indifference to the appropriate education of individuals with disabilities. Certainly, special education, like all specialist fields of education, needs continuous improvement, reform, and even revitalization (Kauffman, 2022). But special education and the students served do not deserve attempts to deny, dismantle, defund, or abandon special education. The contentions that all students with disabilities do better, however “better” is defined, if they are in general education and that children with disabilities can be provided FAPE without specification of education as special or general are both built on a foundation of untruths (Fuchs et al., 2022; Gordon-Gould & Hornby, 2023; Hornby & Kauffman, in press).

Things not thought of may be nonexistent in the minds of some. Among those who do have a name, these things have become unmentionable. Saying the names of these things is then considered by these people a social faux pas and/or an indication that a speaker does not understand that the word is demeaning or outdated, believing it to be still acceptable.

Not naming special education or EBD is unjustifiable, as such obfuscation is not in the best interest of children and young people with special educational needs. Out of name, out of sight. Out of sight, out of mind. Out of mind, out of policy. Their disabilities and special needs are not myths or mere social constructions, nor is the special education that addresses them best unnamed (Anastasiou & Kauffman, 2011).

Imagination is needed to solve educational problems and to make progress, but that imagination cannot fail to name and accommodate the objective realities involved (Kauffman, Anastasiou, Hornby, et al., 2022). Fuchs et al. (2022) wrote,

What we cannot imagine is that general classrooms will become capable of teaching all SWD [students with disabilities]. We cannot imagine this because we know it to be unrealistic and dangerously naïve. Many SWD need something different than general classroom instruction.

Unfortunately, some educators do not recognize this naiveté and insist that special education and EBD not even be named, much less accommodated in any special place. We need to name special education, disabilities, the specific conditions to which the general term “disability” applies, and the continuum of alternative placements needed to meet the goal of FAPE. We also need to name the least restrictive environments needed to meet the educational needs of all children, including those whose educational needs are especially atypical.