Disability Terms: crip, able-bodied, abled, and non-disabled

Recently, three terms came into our discussions on social media: crip, able-bodied, and abled.

Let’s get into them a bit more, yeah? This long-form article explores the usage and implications of “crip,” “able-bodied,” “abled,” and “non-disabled” in disability discourse. It offers guidance drawn from the NCDJ Disability Language Style Guide, examines how each term frames identity and privilege, and urges writers to consider context, individual preference, and social complexity, with recommendations and analysis.

Please see also the National Center on Disability and Journalism (NCDJ) Disability Language Style Guide. It is a free, bilingual (English and Spanish) reference that defines about 100 disability-related terms, explains their background and usage, and notes Associated Press Stylebook guidance to help writers choose respectful, accurate language. It also emphasizes that no single set of terms is universally accepted and urges writers to ask people how they wish to be described.

In the same way, the current article that you are reading is not intended to be authoritative but, rather, a more in-depth discussion of just a few terms.

Should I use the word “crip”?

Short answer

Use crip only within spaces where it’s reclaimed and understood, such as in activist or community settings, or when quoting someone who is a part of the crip culture. Avoid using crip in metaphorical writing.

Long answer

Maybe. It’s an in-group thing. This word holds a bit of complexity as it has been redefined and reclaimed by some disability activists. Crip Culture is a whole thing as well. It embodies both resistance and interdependence.

Crip culture injects creativity and political vigor into the community, and it is a valid cultural identity for a lot of disabled people. You may have encountered “crip the vote” as one of the bigger public uses of crip in public discourse.

Using crip is using insider jargon or in-group speak that opposes medicalized and deficit-centered views of disability. It also tends to emphasize a broadly shared political stance and lived encounters.

Personally, I do like to use crip for the sense of belonging in environments where phrases like “crip time” are understood.

But not all disabled people appreciate this term, and that’s okay too. The NCDJ Disability Style Guide recommends not using the word crip in public writing unless specifically describing a crip social movement, or directly quoting someone.

Also, using crip as a metaphor for breaking something should be avoided. For example, it isn’t good to say that that someone is “crippled by their fear” or that your laptop is “cripped by system updates” or the country is “cripped by inflation.” Use different words to avoid the pejorative.

Can I use “able-bodied” for non-disabled people?

Short answer

Avoid using “able-bodied” to mean non-disabled people, as it frames disability as a deficit. Reserve it only in contexts where it’s already standard, such as in government labor or demographic reports.

Long answer

In mainstream societal settings in countries like the US and Canada, the UK, and Australia, people without disabilities are often labeled as “able-bodied” or “capable,” because of the cultural dominance wherein certain bodyminds are idealized.

The misconception that able-bodied is the antonym of disabled comes from everyday language use, but it’s the kind that perpetuates harmful stereotypes about how disabled people are incapable.

And adding the “temporarily” prefix to say something like “non-disabled people are temporarily able-bodied” just injects ageism into the mix.

It’s important to challenge this framing and to recognize that everyone possesses varying capabilities.

A conservative man commented on a post share of mine, asking why he should “feel ashamed of his abilities” as someone who’s not disabled.

And I thought, “You shouldn’t be ashamed, but neither should WE.” And that’s what this conversation is about. His question, which I think he thought of as a one-up to us, gives All Lives Matter energy and it’s a misdirection.

Able-bodied isn’t the opposite of disabled, but the way we use language in everyday life can suggest that it is.

The NCDJ addresses able-bodied with the recommendation to use other words that are more neutral, such as non-disabled or “does not live with a disability” if you prefer. They add that able-bodied “is an appropriate term to use in some cases, such as when referring to government reports on the proportion of able-bodied members in the workforce.” That use is justified when governments are already using able-bodied, often as it pertains to labor statistics.

Okay well isn’t “abled” the opposite of disabled?

Short answer

No. “Abled” implies societal support and privilege that not all non-disabled people experience. Use non-disabled or a similar term as the straightforward opposite of disabled.

Long answer

Not really, no. The term abled is most often used in the context of the social model of disability to highlight how societal structures support some people while excluding others.

People who want to prefer to describe non-disabled people as abled usually provide this rationale.

And while presumably well-intentioned, labeling non-disabled people as abled overlooks many broader social complexities, and relies on some assumptions that center cultural whiteness.

Are you ready for this part?

Disability rights discourse has historically centered White, middle-class experiences. And it has tended to treat disability as the primary axis of structural harm. Facts.

There are some disability justice advocates who have done great work trying to course correct for this complexity (e.g. Mia Mingus, Alice Wong, Imani Barbarin, Andraéa LaVant, Haben Girma).

Because here’s the thing: Not all non-disabled people are abled in the way that word implies. Some people without disabilities are just not disabled. Period.

Think about non-disabled people who are multiply marginalized, and I mean people facing racialized oppression, incarceration, displacement, ongoing state-sanctioned violence, things like that. Okay?

Are they abled? They’re really not. They’re not structurally supported, resourced, or even safe amidst systems of oppression. They’re not ABLED. They’re just NOT DISABLED. And that’s different because not all non-disabled people are abled.

Grammatical Side Trip into Ableism

Actually, let’s make sure that abled gets the attention it deserves. To do that, I want to invite the reader to think about an entirely different word that works the same way. Okay? Please check this out.

The Oxford English Dictionary (n.d.) defines disinvite as “to do the opposite of inviting; to retract or cancel an invitation to.” Suppose I was disinvited from Robyn’s birthday party. If I was disinvited then that is an action, right? Now if I were interested in learning more about this issue, maybe I’d want to know more about who ELSE was disinvited.

Let’s say I learn that Robyn disinvited five of us. Of the 8.2 billion people on the planet, all but five of us were not disinvited. Right? You with me?

Does this mean Robyn invited 8,199,999,994 people? No, it really doesn’t. Of course not. But WITHIN that category of everyone who was not disinvited, some were invited.

See? The opposite of disinvited is not invited. All we can say about the folks who were not disinvited is that they are not disinvited. I’m not trying to play semantic tricks on you, I promise. I’m trying to help clarify. And in this example, Robyn disinvited 5 people and of all who were not disinvited, maybe 32 were invited. They are among the much greater set of folks who were not disinvited.

We can do this with other concepts. One that’s especially relevant in 2025 is a noun but can still be helpful for thinking and that is disinformation. The OED defines disinformation as:

“The dissemination of deliberately false information, esp. when supplied by a government or its agent to a foreign power or to the media, with the intention of influencing the policies or opinions of those who receive it; false information so supplied” (OED, n.d.).

We know this word. And we can stick with Robyn (hi, Robyn!) for this. Maybe I was disinvited because Robyn was given some disinformation about me. Does that mean that Robyn was supplied truthful information about everyone else?

Again, not necessarily. Disinformation results from actions that produce it. It doesn’t mean that in the absence of deliberately misleading information, someone has been supplied accurate information. (Ask any teacher and they will confirm.) There can just be no disinformation.

I’ll move on but you can probably think of more things wherein being not-something is all you can say about the people who are not that thing.

What’s the word for people who aren’t disabled?

Short answer

Use “non-disabled” (or “people without disabilities”) as the neutral, most accurate term or phrase for those who aren’t disabled.

Long answer

According to the OED, to disable is “to incapacitate legally; to pronounce legally incapable; to hinder or restrain (a person or class of persons) from performing acts or enjoying rights which would otherwise be open to them; to disqualify” (OED, n.d.).

This is an action again, to “hinder or restrain” and some people are thereby disabled. What of the people who are not disabled? Are they “abled” or something along those lines? Not necessarily, no. That would introduce a slew of assumptions that just aren’t correct. Just like those who were not disinvited from the party aren’t necessarily invited to that party, people who are not disabled aren’t necessarily abled.

Using “non-disabled” avoids introducing all of the assumptions about capacity and health that go with able-bodied, and it also avoid the assumptions about access to power and privilege that go with abled.

People who are not navigating the social world with a disability are not disabled, or non-disabled, or not living with a disability, or something similar. Saying more than this makes the categorization of people who aren’t disabled into something ableist.

While the NCDJ does not directly address abled in the Disability Style Guide, they do offer the following background on non-disabled –

“Non-disabled refers to someone who does not have a disability. According to the University of Kansas Research & Training Center on Independent Living, ‘Non-disabled is the preferred term when the context calls for a comparison between people with and without disabilities. Use ‘non-disabled’ or ‘people without disabilities’ instead of healthy, able-bodied, normal or whole’.”

NCDJ goes on to recommend either non-disabled or “does not have a disability” for referring to people who do not identify as having a disability/being disabled. And I agree that it’s the most accurate and neutral way to categorize people who are not disabled.

Whew! I know this is a long one, but I hope these reflections and language resources offer some helpful guidance and insight.

Your feedback and continued discussion is welcomed.