Changing Words, Changing Nothing? A Critical Look at Humanitarian Terminology
Language shapes reality. That’s the argument we hear every time a new term replaces an old one in development and humanitarian work. “Third World” became “developing countries,” then “Global South” or “majority world.” “Beneficiaries” turned into “participants” or “rights holders.” “The field” is now increasingly called “the response area” or “the project site.” These changes are often justified as necessary steps to decolonize aid, shift power, and respect the dignity of those affected by crises. But do they actually change anything?
The Illusion of Progress
Terminology shifts are often presented as progress — signs that we are moving toward a more just, equitable, and decolonized humanitarian system. But in reality, language change frequently serves as a distraction, creating the illusion of transformation while the underlying structures of oppression remain intact.
Take the term Global South. It was meant to replace “developing countries,” acknowledging that economic and political inequalities are rooted in colonial histories rather than inherent deficiencies. Yet, the structural power dynamics between “North” and “South” have not changed — funding is still concentrated in Western institutions, decision-making is still dominated by former colonial powers, and local responders are still treated as subcontractors rather than leaders. Changing the label does nothing to disrupt the neocolonial control of the humanitarian system.
Similarly, the shift from “beneficiary” to “rights holder” was intended to emphasize agency and dignity. But has the power dynamic shifted? Are crisis-affected people truly leading humanitarian responses, or are they still recipients of externally designed interventions, just under a more flattering name? The language of “localization” is everywhere, yet funds remain locked in international NGOs and UN agencies, with only a fraction reaching the very “rights holders” whose power we supposedly respect.
The Language of Respectability vs. the Reality of Disrespect
Some argue that even if terminology does not immediately change power structures, it is still important for shifting mindsets and narratives over time. This might be true in some cases, but in humanitarian and development spaces, language is often performative — about respectability rather than respect.
Consider the shift away from calling crisis-affected areas “the field.” The argument is that “field” evokes colonial imagery — Western aid workers venturing into dangerous, exotic lands to save the helpless. Yet, does calling it a “response area” change how aid workers behave? Does it stop the devaluation of local expertise, the extraction of knowledge from local communities, or the reinforcement of harmful stereotypes? Or does it merely allow organizations to claim progress without making any substantive change?
Symbolic Change Without Structural Shift
The problem is not just that terminology changes fail to disrupt power structures. It is that they often serve to mask the persistence of those structures. By adopting a new language, institutions can appear progressive while continuing exploitative and exclusionary practices.
If funding and decision-making remain concentrated in the West, does it matter whether we say "Global South" or "majority world"?
If local women’s organizations still struggle to access direct funding, does it matter whether we call them "local actors" or "women-led responders"?
If international staff still hold the most power, does it matter if they stop saying "the field" and start saying "the response area"?
Too often, these terminology shifts become substitutes for real change — a way for institutions to appear self-critical and forward-thinking without addressing the deeper injustices embedded in the humanitarian system.
When Words Do Matter
None of this means that language is irrelevant. Words have power, but only when they reflect and reinforce genuine shifts in practice. The problem is not that we are changing terminology, but that we are doing so without changing behaviour, policies, or funding flows.
If we stop saying “Global South” but continue to exclude non-Western actors from leadership, we are simply engaging in linguistic whitewashing. If we replace “the field” with “response area” but continue to exploit local staff and expertise, we are engaging in symbolic reform rather than meaningful transformation.
What Needs to Change?
Instead of focusing on cosmetic shifts in language, we should be asking:
Who benefits from these terminology changes? Are they driven by affected communities or by international institutions seeking to maintain legitimacy?
What structural shifts accompany the change in language? Has funding, decision-making power, or representation changed in any meaningful way?
How do we hold institutions accountable for performative progress? How do we ensure that words are matched with action?
If language change does not come with redistribution of power, resources, and decision-making, then it is nothing more than a smokescreen.
Beyond Words: Decolonization in Practice
Real decolonization in humanitarian work is not about replacing words — it is about replacing unjust systems. It is about shifting power, redistributing resources, and breaking down the hierarchies that have governed aid for decades.
Until that happens, terminology changes are nothing more than rebranding exercises — cosmetic updates designed to make us feel better about a system that remains fundamentally unchanged.