Words Are Just as Dangerous as Sticks and Stones
Originally published 9/20, on Off the Mat, Into the World's blog, as "Why Some Commonly Used Language Hurts People with Atypical Neurology"

I originally wrote the following about two years ago. I am adding a preface to what I wrote before (everything above the divider line) because some discussions that came out of the original post have informed my constantly-morphing attitudes about the oh-so controversial topic that is commonly framed as something akin to “free speech vs. hate speech”:
“Free” speech vs. “hate” speech is a false dichotomy. It is a convenient framing that attempts to coerce each of us into taking a side. Instead, we need to collectively understand that all communication, no matter the author and/or audience of the message, is a negotiation of sorts, and has the potential to offend or even harm others. It is our responsibility to be both mindful and transparent about whether and how we are willing to negotiate our choice of words with those who find them problematic, and hold ourselves accountable for harmful impact — whether we intended it or not — that is caused by our message.
We all — whether we admit it or not — have feelings that are catalyzed by the words we hear or read. Some of those feelings are our responsibility to manage and some of them are imposed upon us by marginalizing socialization that targets us and defines us as less-than (.e.g., many of the words I refer to in my original post). Sometimes our feelings are a complicated blend of the two.
It is neither fair nor reasonable to respond to reports of harm caused by words by telling those who are harmed that they are wrong, too sensitive, lying, manipulative, controlling, or unreasonable. It is always possible that they actually are one or more of those things, and it is rarely anybody else’s place to make that assessment. It is better to err on the side of disrupting harm that might have been overstated than on the side of dismissing or criticizing victims for the harm they have suffered.
Objecting to the use of certain words, phrases or ideas, and asking people to be aware of the harm they cause, does not equal censorship.
CW: Contains discussion of, and uses, ableist words that are derogatory to people whose mental, emotional, intellectual, educational, or cognitive state does not match cultural standards of "normal," or "healthy."
After reading too many Facebook posts, I am (once again) beside myself with frustration, pain, fatigue, and the kind of anger-bordering-on-rage that is rendered impotent and self-damaging by its malevolent synergy with resignation. I know I am not the only one who feels this, so in spite of my fear of the potential for argumentatively hostile reactions, it's time, once again, to disrupt.
So here goes: The words "idiot," "moron," "dumb," "crazy," “insane,” "wacko," "psycho," and an astounding array of variations of the “r-word,” among others, are used way too freely in public discourse. With the recently increasing level of collective stress and ideological conflict that we in the US are immersed in, these words have become more prevalent than spam. And these words hurt. They hurt me, and they hurt a whole lot of other people, too.
I am, by cultural standards, perceived to be highly intelligent and reasonably sane. In spite of that, these words hurt me. They hurt me because I know what's underneath my "intelligent" and "sane" surface, and what it costs me energetically to maintain appearances such that I am (marginally) acceptable to society. I am multiply neurodivergent, and most of the words I referenced – in addition to many others – have been used against me at one time or another; both as general insults, and as criticism of self-expression on my part that was deemed confusing or bothersome in some way by someone else.
These words are weaponized. They are designed to maim and kill. I am usually able to mask (i.e., present myself as "normal" for the sake of not inconveniencing or upsetting neurotypical people) my autism when needed and perform more or less as expected in this neurotypical world, and still, I can be injured by these words. If they can have that impact on me, imagine what they do to people who are less willing or able than me to mask , and/or navigate this disabling, neurotypical world without accommodation or assistance.
Imagine the damage these words must do to people whose very survival depends on support by people who refer to them in this manner.
There is no need for these words, and they are dangerous. Please stop using them. If you are articulate and intelligent enough to feel righteous in deeming your opponent’s arguments or ideologies as intellectually inferior, surely you are also capable of formulating a response that does not rely on ad hominem attacks based on your assumptions about their intelligence or sanity. No matter how much you may feel that an opponent deserves the derision implied by these words, there is no way to use them without perpetuating cultural biases about those who the biases already marginalize. Not to mention — there is no state of intelligence or sanity that is deserving of the contempt and insult these words convey. None.
I know first-hand how frustrating it is to try to have a conversation with someone who doesn't appear to me to be willing to “listen to reason.” I often feel desperate to find a way to stem the growing tide of belief in conspiracy theories and political propaganda, because I am very aware of the extraordinary potential those beliefs have for derailing democracy in this country (even more so than has already happened). I understand viscerally how frustrating it can be to perceive that someone else is obstinately refusing to acknowledge facts, science, reality, in favor of believing something that I know without a doubt is dangerous at best, and violently, oppressively, disastrous at worst. Believe me, I know. I know, because I am among those whose suffering increases sooner, and more so, than does the suffering of most people, if we continue on the track we are on. Really, I know.
I am as desperate and scared as anyone. And yet I manage, without too much effort, to frame my arguments, debates, comments, etc., without resorting to ad hominem attacks to defend my position. I do not call anyone "moron," "idiot," "crazy," "derp," or any other word that implies that their stance is a product of a brain- or mind-based state, condition or disability. I do not use those words because they are disrespectful at best, and are most often abusive. The implied correlation between neurological conditions and objectionable or dangerous opinions or beliefs is both inaccurate and profoundly dehumanizing.
Even when these words are not necessarily hurtful to the immediate target, they are always damaging to members of the populations they are designed to describe. Derogatory language is much like a virus, in that its potential to cause harm is not limited to those who are directly exposed to it. Language is highly symbolic, and subliminally communicates cultural norms and expectations; derogatory language transmits unconscious biases that paint its targets as less than human, of little to no value, unworthy of dignity and respect — worthy only of long-suffering tolerance or neglect by those who consider themselves saddled with the burden of care. Often, this bias is used to justify unceremonious disposal — whether to neglect, houselessness, inhumane institutionalization or incarceration, or infanticide/homicide.
It’s impossible to over-emphasize this point; it cannot be said too emphatically or too often because it is critical, urgent and necessary to disrupt the horrific oppression of so many people:
The use of ableist and/or neurotypically biased insults as a debate tactic is oppressive and harmful. Full stop. It. Is. Not. OK. Ever.
In spite of it not being OK ever, it is inevitable. These words, and the biases behind them, are so baked into our cultural norm that it takes a concerted effort to weed them out. It won’t happen without a clear intention to do so. In full disclosure, I, sometimes, find myself using words like “crazy” to describe a situation; I have to stop myself, and intentionally find a different word (internalized oppression is alive and well in me).
Often, when I've had a conversation on this subject, I am presented with the argument that words are sacred because "freedom of speech," and that unless those who are hurt by them can prove actual harm, it is reprehensible and censorial to demand that the words not be used anymore. This argument is disingenuous and sadly lacking in empathy.
To defend the imagined purity or sanctity of language at the expense of respecting and trusting the reactions of those harmed by it is to disregard victims’ dignity and worth. Using words that cause harm to already marginalized people perpetuates oppression. There is no way around that, and no excuse for defending it.
There is no single point of failure in the English language; it is flexible and adaptive, and we have an ethical responsibility to prune as needed, in service of encouraging progressive, expanded awareness that disrupts the harmful status quo. Unless the intended purpose is to marginalize, degrade, or demonize, there are very few words that cannot be replaced by another that will communicate the same message.
Urging those with privilege to be mindful about the damage that is done by using derogatory language is not censorship. It is not an attack on free speech. It is an appeal to what should be recognized as common human decency.
There is nothing restrictive about expecting that we intentionally evolve our language, and stop using words that we come to know are harmful. To do anything else is to perpetuate oppression by denying the horribly ableist and demeaning signals these words send every time they are used.
If you’d like to learn more about ableist language, and why specific terms are harmful, here are some resources to explore:
Autistic Hoya: Ableist Words and Terms to Avoid - Autistic Hoya (Lydia X. Z. Brown) is a disability justice advocate, organizer, educator, attorney, strategist, and writer whose work has largely focused on violence against multiply-marginalized disabled people, especially institutionalization, incarceration, and policing. This is a list they have curated of words and phrases that many disabled people consider ableist. It also includes suggested alternatives.
Why People Are Rethinking The Words 'Crazy' And 'Insane' - this is a short NPR interview, with a conversation between Ari Shapiro, Neda Ulaby, and several other activists. They succinctly explain how words like “crazy” and “insane” can harm people with mental, emotional, or cognitive conditions or atypical neurostates. The link contains both an audio recording and a written transcript of the discussion.
Neurodiversity: Some Basic Terms & Definitions - this is a blog post by Dr. Nick Walker, a neuroqueer activist and educator. Rather than focusing on ableist language, it focuses on terminology and definitions that are part of the relatively new neuroqueer activist framework, which centers on neurodiversity in general, but specifically autism.
I happened across your Substack from you liking a comment of mine on Popular Information. I really appreciated this post, and as much as I thought I was already considerate in my language, your post gave me more to consider. I have often referred to someone or a situation as crazy or insane, without pausing to consider it. I've got more work to do.
I agree that a lot of lazy word choices are reflexively used under the cover of "free speech." Two supporting points in respect to this part of your post: 1.) People are free from government restrictions on their expression; not from being notified by others that their comments are offensive. 2.) Free speech comes with the responsibility of the consequences of what one says. It does not mean people can say whatever they want to others and their targets must meekly absorb their abuse without resistance.
Great post.