At a time when the government has unveiled reforms in the schools White Paper aimed at improving education for pupils with special educational needs and disabilities, it is striking that terms like “low-functioning”, “low-ability” or “challenging behaviour” remain commonplace.

These aren’t neutral descriptors - they are deficit labels that shape expectations, influence opportunity and, ultimately, determine outcomes.

If we want a more inclusive system, we must rethink not just policy but also the language and assumptions that underpin it.

Abandoning outdated language

Much of the current public discourse frames neurodivergent children by what they lack, not what they can do.

When those in influential positions use demeaning or dismissive terminology, it doesn’t simply offend - it pulls us backwards. It legitimises the idea that children’s differences are problems to be fixed rather than needs to be understood, supported and accommodated.

Neuro‑affirming language starts from the opposite premise. Neurodiversity is a natural expression of human variation, and capability emerges when environments and expectations are right.

That means abandoning outdated narratives that label autistic children as “low-functioning” or “difficult”, and instead recognising their individual learning profiles, interests and strengths.

Diagnosis alone cannot guide support

Changing the language we use matters because it directly affects how support is organised. For many years, the system has behaved as though a diagnostic label - autism, ADHD, global developmental delay - tells us what provision a child needs. It does not.

Diagnosis describes a difference, it doesn’t describe complexity of needs. Two children with the same diagnostic label may require completely different adaptations, staffing profiles and therapeutic pathways.

We’ve recently analysed 5,000 education, health and care plans (EHCPs) attached to pupils in our schools with clinicians and educators, and reviewed more than 24,000 plan fragments of text to define the complexity of children in a more sophisticated and nuanced way.

We found enormous variation in terminology across local authorities, but one pattern stood out: a persistent focus on what a child cannot do, combined with a heavy reliance on diagnosis to indicate need.

These reviews also highlighted something crucial: diagnoses rarely showed a clear correlation with the level of support required in school.

An autistic child may need a lot of intensive one-to-one support or very little. A child with ADHD may struggle in a busy classroom or thrive with predictable routines and independence‑focused intervention. Complexity of need - not diagnosis - is what determines the right support package.

Understanding complexity changes everything

In response to this analysis, and to move beyond the traditional diagnostic labels, we developed a framework of 10 complexity markers grounded in research and lived experience.

These markers consider environmental adaptations, communication needs, therapy intensity, independence skills, mental health, multi‑agency involvement, risk and more. They reveal functional need, not diagnostic category.

A diagnosis may inform part of the picture, but the complexity markers tell us how a child learns, what adaptations matter and what provision is required.

They give teachers, therapists and EHCP writers a clearer, more consistent way to describe needs without falling back on reductive labels. They also illuminate a truth that deficit‑led language obscures - children with the same diagnosis can present with vastly different profiles.

Policy must change its language, too

The development of SEND reforms must tackle language and labels head‑on.

If national guidance continues to rely on terms that flatten individuality and reinforce outdated narratives, schools will struggle to deliver the inclusive, needs‑led approaches that policymakers are rightly calling for.

The reforms offer a major opportunity to embed:

• Neuro‑affirming language in templates, training and statutory guidance.
• Complexity‑based commissioning, not diagnosis‑based.
• Consistency of descriptors, so support plans drive appropriate provision rather than perpetuating deficit narratives.
   

Language is not an afterthought - it is infrastructure. It determines how complexity is understood, how provision is commissioned and how children are perceived.

If the inclusion agenda is to succeed, policymakers, educators and leaders must examine both the words they use and the assumptions beneath them. Diagnosis tells us something about a child, complexity markers tell us what that child needs.

And language is the bridge between the two. If we get it right, we will not just update vocabulary, we will transform expectations, unlock strengths and build a system that genuinely supports every child to thrive.

Mike Blakey is chief education and quality officer at Outcomes First Group, a provider of specialist education