Disability-Affirming Language: Person-First versus Identity-First Language 

by Natalia Iwanek

As an editor with a specific focus on inclusive language—and as a disabled person—I often have conversations about disability-affirming language. Many of these conversations centre on person-first (person with a disability) versus identity-first (disabled person) language.

Identity-first language: style choices, style guides, and resources

While I affirm those who use person-first language, in my editing and in my personal life I am a proponent of identity-first language. Although I use various resources (see below) to learn about disability experiences outside of my own and to unlearn my own implicit biases—and as a way to clearly explain my points to clients—I also use identity-first language because I do not consider anything inherently negative about the term disabled, nor do I consider anything inherently negative about being disabled. Disability is simply part of who I am.

Similar to my perspective on disability as part of my identity, disability rights activist and writer Lydia X.Z. Brown breaks this down succinctly when they ask “why is it correct to say that I am East Asian, or that I am Chinese, or that I am U.S. American, or that I am a person of faith, or that I am a leftist, or that I am genderqueer, and for some reason incorrect to say that I am Autistic? Would I say that I have Asianness, or Chinese-ness, or that I have Americanness, or that I have religiosity or spirituality, or that I have leftistness, or that I have genderqueerness?” Brown continues: “These are not qualities or conditions that I have. They are part of who I am” (“Identity and Hypocrisy”). In a similar way, I am disabled, as much as I am white, as much as I am an immigrant, etc.

However, while I and many within the disability community do also use identity-first language, one caveat is to always defer to how individuals and communities self-identify. Alex Kapitan refers to this practice as “person-centred language.” In “On ‘Person-First Language’: It’s Time to Actually Put the Person First,” Kapitan mentions that “all people are people and should be treated as the first and foremost experts on themselves.” 

While this advice could apply to respecting both those who use identity-first language and those who use person-first language, it could also apply to many other equity-deserving communities (including those in which disability intersects). Another example of respecting language choices could extend to reclaimed slurs in the disability community (and beyond). In addition, it is worth noting that certain individuals with disabilities may not identify as disabled.

However, one concept that appears more universally accepted by the disability community is the harm perpetuated by euphemisms and words used to soften disability. I suggest checking out Emily Ladau’s “4 Disability Euphemisms That Need to Bite the Dust” for further reading. Another best practice is to avoid words that portray disability or mobility aids in a negative light, such as “wheelchair bound” or “confined to a wheelchair,” as opposed to simply a “wheelchair user” or a “person who uses a wheelchair.”

The development of person-first language

With this in mind, this leads us to the point that many individuals do use person-first language to describe their identity and lived experience. Once again, this is to be treated with respect. 

To understand the root of this debate, it is important to understand the historical context. Person-first language (PFL) developed during the 1980s in the disability activism movement, by “allowing others to disassociate the disability as the primary defining characteristic of an individual, and viewing disability as one of several features of the whole person” (Phillip Ferrigon, “Person-First Language vs. Identity-First Language”).

However, these ideas have since evolved: “Identity is complex—way too complex for a rule like this to work without any exceptions” (Kapitan, “On ‘Person-First Language’ ”). Indeed, language regarding disability has evolved, as has societal knowledge about disability, mainly due to tireless activism by the disability community, including recent activism by the intersectional movement known as disability justice (Patricia Berne et al., “Ten Principles of Disability Justice”).

While person-first language is still commonly used by governments, in medical spheres, and by disability advocacy organizations, many in the disability community now believe that person-first language considers disability to be an inherent negative. (As a side note, person-first language is also often used by organizations who advocate on behalf of, but often not by or with, disabled people.)

According to Cara Leibowitz, “though person-first language is designed to promote respect, the concept is based on the idea that disability is something negative, something that you shouldn’t want to see.” However, Leibowitz continues, “disability is only negative because society makes it so. For sure, there are negative aspects of my disability… . But for the most part, my disability is just another thread in the tapestry of my life.” This nuanced identity-first perspective is something that I strongly affirm. 

Admittedly, I have difficult days as a disabled person, but my disability is something that is simply a part of who I am. What does make my life more difficult are systemic barriers that prevent me from participating fully in society, as well as the expectation of overcoming these barriers as an individual, as opposed to via a collective societal effort. 

Theoretical models of disability

How one perceives these systemic barriers, as well as disability, can be traced back to the theoretical models of disability. Although various models of disability exist, two major schools of thought are the social and medical models of disability.

As a proponent of the social model, I believe that systemic barriers in society prevent disabled people from participating fully, as opposed to the medical model, which posits that there is something wrong with disabled people individually, and that they are in need of a cure.

I personally take this further and am a proponent of the political/relational model of disability, which, according to the Critical Disability Studies Collective at the University of Minnesota, considers disability as political since it is connected to many forms of oppression, including anti-Black racism, sexism, homophobia, and classism. (Further information about this model can be found in Alison Kafer’s Feminist, Queer, Crip.)

When to use person-first language

No discussion on person-first language would be complete without considering situations where it is recommended. For example, person-first language is used to avoid stigmatization when speaking of the language of incarceration and individuals who are incarcerated. Alexandra Cox argues that favouring person-first language “teaches us about the complexity of human life and separates a person from their status” (in “People-First Language Matters” by Wilbert Cooper).

This also applies to those who are undocumented or experiencing housing insecurity. Indeed, language has evolved: “An argument for the use of person-centered language is that it is a generally destigmatizing approach to people who face innumerable consequences—politically, socially, and psychologically—as a result of being affixed with a label that identifies them as ‘criminal’ ” (Alexandra Cox, “The Language of Incarceration”). However, once again, language choices must also respect an individual’s right to choose how to describe themselves.

Ultimately, language choices are never neutral, and while inclusive changes in language are a first step, societal changes ranging from paradigm shifts about disability (and about the intersections of disability with race, socio-economic class, migration status, gender identity, and sexual orientation, among others) to policy changes are also required.

On a final note, the disability community is not a monolith, and my personal lived experiences and personal stances on editing style do not necessarily reflect all those within the disability community. Once again, when considering disability-affirming language, I would suggest reading extensively from disabled creators, keeping up to date with conversations within the disability community, and deferring to how individuals self-identify, despite what style guides, or in this case, some disabled editors such as myself, might state.

Further Reading

• Yin, Karen. “Ability and Disability.” The Conscious Style Guide. https://consciousstyleguide.com/ability-disability/.
• National Center on Disability and Journalism. Disability Language Style Guide. https://ncdj.org/style-guide/.
• Brown, Lydia X.Z. Autistic Hoya (blog). https://www.autistichoya.com/.
• Kapitan, Alex. Radical Copyeditor (blog). https://radicalcopyeditor.com/.
• Shelley, Crystal. Rabbit with a Red Pen (blog). https://www.rabbitwitharedpen.com/.
• Leibowitz, Cara. “I am Disabled: On Identity-First Versus People-First Language.” The Body Is Not An Apology, March 20, 2015. https://thebodyisnotanapology.com/magazine/i-am-disabled-on-identity-first-versus-people-first-language/.
• Piepzna-Samarasinha, Leah Lakshmi. Care Work: Dreaming Disability Justice. Vancouver: Arsenal Pulp Press, 2018.
• Wong, Alice, ed. Disability Visibility: First-Person Stories from the Twenty-First Century. New York: Vintage Books, 2020.
• McRuer, Robert. Crip Theory: Cultural Signs of Queerness and Disability. New York: NYU Press, 2006.
• Leduc, Amanda. Disfigured: On Fairy Tales, Disability, and Making Space. Toronto: Coach House Books, 2020.

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Natalia Iwanek is the new assistant to the editor-in-chief for BoldFace. She was a recipient of the Editors Canada President’s Award for Volunteer Service in 2021 and 2022.

This article was copy edited by Ambrose Li, a freelance copy editor and graphic designer.