Stop Calling Them Special Needs

I recently found myself writing in a project description that it had been designed for a client with “special needs”.

And those two words didn’t sit right with me.

So I started asking myself why.

Why do we use the words “special needs”?

Of course, on the surface, we use them as a polite way to describe someone with needs that differ from the norm ,physical or cognitive conditions that may be limiting.

We try to wrap something uncomfortable in softer language.
Sometimes it’s the result of an accident, other times it’s a condition from birth, either way, we rarely call things what they are. We soften them, because it makes us feel better.

Words like “special”, “different”, “particular”, “differently abled” — and the list could go on — appear inclusive, but in reality they reinforce the idea that there is a norm, and then there is everything outside of it. Just framed more gently.

But the words we choose create separation, even when they are meant to be kind.

And I would really like to erase that line of separation altogether. If only it were as simple as using an eraser or Photoshop.

I would love to change the language and the culture overnight.
But in my work, I also need to communicate clearly and immediately. I need people to understand what I do at a glance.

And so I often find myself using words that don’t truly belong to me.

I use an “old” language to explain a “new” idea.

Because the truth is: I don’t design for “special” people.

I simply design spaces tailored to individuals, just like any other designer does.

I design homes that are well thought-out, spaces that work for everyone ,while also taking into account those who are still treated as a “category”.

A category that is rarely considered, in both public and private spaces.

We keep calling it a “category” because we dedicate very few spaces to it ,and then expect applause for doing so.

That, honestly, makes me angry.

Everyone has “special” needs. Which means no one does, in a way that separates them from others.

When we design for people, we enter their personal world. We respond to their habits, their preferences, their sensitivities without judgment.

Design is always intimate. It is always tailored. It is never an exception.

So why, when it comes to disability, do we call it a “special project”, while everything else is simply called a “project”?

The truth is, we all have specific needs.

Some want an open kitchen.
Some hate dining tables.
Some need silence, others need light ,or less light.
Some need support, others need space big or small.
Some can live without a bidet, others feel uncomfortable even imagining a hand shower instead.
Some fear certain colours, others want to live surrounded by them.

Part of our job, as designers, is to embrace these differences without judgment.

For everyone.

So why do we label some needs as “special”?

They’re not.

They are simply needs.

We all have them. Some are more visible, others less.

And a well-designed project, in my view, should respond to all of them without creating categories.

That’s why I question the way we define what is “normal” in design.

I don’t design exceptions.
I design well-executed normality.

And maybe, the day we stop using certain words,
we will also stop seeing certain differences.

Not because they don’t exist,
but because they will no longer act as barriers.

They will simply be part of who we are.

All of us.