Why “Empower” Misses the Mark

A Deafblind Perspective on Power, Autonomy, and Language

October 28, 2026

By Morrison

As we come to the end of National Disability Employment Awareness Month, I am sharing this reflection with the aim to educate, not to criticize, but to truly ask you to sit with this one as you read.

I had an interview a while back with a disability rights organization, believe it or not, and one of the questions was about my thoughts on the term “empower” and how to use it in the world of disabilities. I spoke my truth, and I could tell I did not pass that question with flying colors. So, here is the why, which I am sharing in hopes that it will help them and others understand why this term is not only redundant and diluted, but harmful.

As a Deafblind person, navigating spaces created, dominated, and controlled by those with privilege, whether hearing, sighted, or possessing institutional power, is an everyday reality. Over the years, I have heard or read variations of the same phrases time and time again from organizations, agencies, and state programs:

“Our mission is to enable individuals who are Deafblind to live, work, and thrive in their community of choice.”

“We strive to equip individuals with the essential skills needed to achieve independence.”

“This program is designed to empower the voices of individuals with combined hearing and vision loss.”

While these words are often spoken with well-meaning smiles or written into government grants and agency mission statements, they leave me feeling cold – as I know the truth behind these words (and I’m sure you do too…). For many in privileged positions, language like “enabling,” “equipping,” and “empowering” feels like a noble goal, a savior complex in action. For me, it feels like a persistent reminder of who holds the keys, who holds the power.

This dynamic is even visible in American Sign Language. To sign “power,” you bend your non-dominant arm at the elbow so your bicep faces forward, and bring your dominant hand, formed into a “C” shape, or a claw shape, to touch or curve over that bicep in a firm arc, visually grounding strength and authority in the muscle. To sign “empower,” that same handshape moves directly from the bicep outward toward you, physically illustrating the act of passing that power from one body to another. But because that movement originates on the signer’s own arm, it emphasizes that the authority belongs to them first, leaving it within their power to easily pull it back or withhold it whenever they choose.

Can you picture this?

So now, here is why I am also not fond of the term “empower,” and why it is time we shift our focus from giving people power to respecting their autonomy.

1. Power Given Can Be Power Taken Away

The core issue with an agency declaring that it “enables” or “empowers” lies in its subject-object dynamic. It positions the organization or state as the grantor, and the Deafblind person as the passive recipient. If an institution holds the authority to “give” me power or “enable” my life, it retains the exact same authority to revoke, reduce, or modify that support whenever budgets change, or whenever it becomes inconvenient, uncomfortable, or expensive. True equity cannot exist when your freedom operates entirely on a system of administrative permission.

Deep, and scary right… but so true.

2. The Hidden Quid Pro Quo: Who Really Profits?

There is often an unspoken, hidden contract attached to institutional support. In many cases, disabled and Deafblind people are expected to perform gratitude, share personal stories for marketing materials, or comply with agency metrics in exchange for basic access or support. While the Deafblind person is expected to settle for the ambiguous prize of being “empowered,” those running the programs gain measurable rewards, such as public credit, state funding, career advancement, and full-time salaries. The system profits off the narrative of helping us, while keeping us positioned beneath them.

Feels familiar?

3. The Flawed Assumption: We Do Not Lack Power, We Lack Access

When an agency claims to “empower our voices” or “equip us for independence,” it is rooted in the patronizing assumption that Deafblind people inherently lack internal agency, capability, or voice to begin with. We do not lack internal power. What we lack are accessible spaces (DeafBlind space), tactile language, equitable tools designed for us (not others), systemic equity, and direct control over funding. When institutions focus on “empowering” the individual, they shift the burden onto the disabled person rather than fixing the broken, exclusionary structures they control.

Daunting right…

4. The Linguistic Trap: Deconstructing the Prefix “Em-“

Let’s get deeper… Consider what happens when we examine the prefix “em-,” a linguistic marker meaning to put into, enclose, confine, or cause to be:

“Em-” as in Employ: Much like employment, institutional “empowerment” operates as a conditional, transactional arrangement, requiring Deafblind people to perform in specific, compliant ways, “to meet the essential functions” of the job, to earn basic dignity and access.
“Em-” as in Empathy: Too often, the dynamic is inverted, forcing Deafblind people to empathize with bureaucratic limitations and agency budgets, rather than institutions centering our actual needs.
“Em-” as in Embed: To be “empowered” by an organization embeds us inside their specific framework, keeping us enclosed within boundaries that they set, monitor, micromanage, and enforce.
“Em-” as in Embark: It positions the agency as the captain launching us on a journey, inviting us but they steer the way, ignoring the fact that we have been navigating our own lives and survival all along.
“Em-” as in Embellish: The language of “empowerment” embellishes grant applications, annual reports, and marketing campaigns, decorating an organization’s public reputation without shifting real authority with accountability.
“Em-” as in Embarrass: Qualification processes force Deafblind individuals to publicly detail personal struggles and medical histories just to receive basic services, turning essential rights into a humbling ordeal over and over again.
“Em-” as in Embroil: Seeking support embroils Deafblind people in endless bureaucracy, red tape, and administrative appeals, exhausting the energy we need to live our daily lives.
“Em-” as in Embrace (performative): Organizations love to “embrace” disability for diversity metrics and photo opportunities, while keeping their actual boardrooms and high-level decisions inaccessible and not inclusive… exclusive.
“Em-” as in Empty: Ultimately, “empowerment” acts as an empty promise, offering comforting rhetoric for non-disabled administrators, but remaining hollow when it comes to enforceable rights or legal ownership.

Moving Beyond “Empowerment”: What We Actually Need

Deafblind people do not need to be “empowered” or “enabled” by non-disabled, hearing-sighted stewards. What we need is autonomy and ownership.

Autonomy means having complete authority over our choices, bodies, communication preferences, and paths forward without needing approval from an agency or case manager.
Ownership means having direct control over the resources, funding, and decision-making processes that affect our lives, rather than merely sitting on an advisory committee while the state holds the veto power.

Instead of trying to empower us, perhaps the real work lies in dismantling the barriers that keep us from taking total ownership of our own lives. Don’t you think it is time we retire this term, or at least re-examine how we use it?

I would love to hear your thoughts. What is your take on this?