How do you explain color to someone who is blind?

Look, I’m just going to attempt to clear up a few of the lingering uncertainties that have surfaced in your posts—though I can't promise to settle everything...
I find myself operating under the assumption that if you were to ask even a blind man for his perspective on this particular mess, he’d likely offer you something entirely different from what the rest of you are peddling...
I lost my sight during my junior year of college—it’s hard to claim any real authority when I talk about how I perceived color back then. A few years after that, I developed this intense obsession with red; it’s the shade that has lingered most stubbornly in my mind, likely because of its sheer aggression, though there was also one specific scene from that time where red just seemed to swallow everything else whole. Over the years, though, that clarity has faded... it’s become a memory of a memory. Now, I find myself merely remembering the fact that I once remembered that red...
There was a certain stretch of my life where I found myself inexplicably drawn to pink—a phase that felt almost overwhelming at times—but then, eventually, the pendulum swung toward purple, and I suppose I’ve stayed there ever since... It remains a favorite of mine, even now.
Everything I claim to know about color theory is nothing more than dry, academic abstraction—warm versus cold, vibrant versus pastel, light versus dark—and frankly, none of those textbook definitions have done much to help me actually connect with them. Still, I suppose there was a certain necessity to forming these mental concepts, even back in my early childhood... a need to categorize the world just to make sense of it. Ultimately, all I’m left with is my own imagination, and my perception of color remains something entirely internal, existing only within the confines of my own mind. For instance, while the textbooks insist that purple is a cool tone, to me, it possesses this inexplicable warmth. It isn't the searing heat you get from a red, of course, but there is a certain glow to it... a comfort. Even if my understanding of the spectrum is wildly detached from reality, I find this subjective version far more interesting—though, I highly doubt I would be able to identify a single actual color if I were suddenly granted sight...

There have been various attempts to stage color through touch, sound, or even scent—an interesting concept, I suppose—but I can’t help but feel that any such experience would be entirely beholden to the individual's subjective perception of those colors... which makes the whole endeavor somewhat precarious. In my own experience, I’ve found that two people can encounter the exact same aroma yet walk away with vastly different impressions and descriptions. If we cannot even agree on the essence of a single scent, how could we ever hope to standardize the "feeling" of a hue? Of course, these sensory experiments aren't entirely without merit—they might offer a fleeting hint or a vague approximation—but they will never truly capture the soul of color... not in any meaningful way.

As someone living with blindness, I find myself constantly confronted by this recurring question regarding color dreams—specifically, how exactly one "sees" in them. There is always this palpable sense of anticipation in the way people ask, an eagerness for me to recount some vivid, Technicolor odyssey that simply doesn't exist... or at least, isn't interesting to me. I don't dream in color, nor do I dream through sight, even though my sleeping mind is perfectly capable of conjuring things that would be physically impossible in reality. For instance, in a dream, I might possess an absolute certainty that an object is positioned right in front of me without ever having touched it—or I’ll know with total clarity that a specific person is standing in the room, even if I haven't heard their voice. I don't "see" them, per se; it is more of a profound, intuitive awareness of their presence... Naturally, those who have spent their lives seeing likely experience a fundamentally different dreamscape—one fueled by their ability to recall colors and the visual textures they've internalized over a lifetime...

I have to admit, the whole concept of regression sounded rather intriguing when it was first brought up—it certainly piqued my interest—but my actual understanding of the mechanics behind it is admittedly thin. I wouldn’t dream of venturing too deep into that particular rabbit hole without more substance... it feels a bit premature to weigh in just yet.

"A world of darkness"... it’s a phrase people toss around all the time, isn't it? And frankly, I find it difficult to wrap my head around the logic behind it. I don't feel like I'm inhabiting some alternate dimension—and believe me, the people I deal with every day, the ones who actually know me, certainly don't perceive me as someone living in some sort of gloomy, shadow-filled void. I constantly get these little comments thrown my way—things like, "Why haven't you turned on the light?" or "Can you grab me that blue shirt?"—as if there were some visual struggle occurring. And since we’re on the subject of darkness—though I realize how difficult this might be for some to grasp—I don't actually know what darkness *is*. Not in the sense we discussed regarding colors, anyway. Because I don't perceive light, the concept of darkness simply doesn't exist for me. This whole idea of "living in the dark" is fundamentally flawed from my perspective; I recently found myself in a rather tedious debate with someone trying to argue the opposite point. They were attempting to convince me that my reality consists entirely of darkness, and that I just somehow fail to recognize it. It was quite absurd... and utterly unconvincing. I tried explaining it to them, much as I have to others, that the visual faculty simply isn't part of my biology. It’s as if I belong to a species that was never equipped with sight to begin with. Just as one cannot see out of their knee or their back because there are no visual receptors there to process an image, I simply do not "see" through eyes...

I’m not entirely sure if this will actually clear things up for any of you—though I certainly tried my best to lay it all out...

Douglas Robinson said:Why on earth would you think a blind person couldn't just hop onto this forum and read through this whole thread by themselves?

Wait, can someone please explain this to me...

What part of this isn't clicking?

Douglas Robinson said:What part of this isn't clicking?

Honestly, I don't get how someone who's blind is supposed to read a forum post all by themselves.

mistyfox812 said:Honestly, I don't get how someone who's blind is supposed to read a forum post all by themselves.

Right. Well, the reality is that we rely on screen readers and speech synthesis software—tools that allow us to process text on the screen and handle just about anything else a computer can throw at us. I’m merely an average user myself, but I know plenty of blind professionals out there who excel in programming, web design, and other technical fields...
If you have any more questions, feel free to ask.

Douglas Robinson said:Look, I’m just going to attempt to clear up a few of the lingering uncertainties that have surfaced in your posts—though I can't promise to settle everything...
I find myself operating under the assumption that if you were to ask even a blind man for his perspective on this particular mess, he’d likely offer you something entirely different from what the rest of you are peddling...
I lost my sight during my junior year of college—it’s hard to claim any real authority when I talk about how I perceived color back then. A few years after that, I developed this intense obsession with red; it’s the shade that has lingered most stubbornly in my mind, likely because of its sheer aggression, though there was also one specific scene from that time where red just seemed to swallow everything else whole. Over the years, though, that clarity has faded... it’s become a memory of a memory. Now, I find myself merely remembering the fact that I once remembered that red...
There was a certain stretch of my life where I found myself inexplicably drawn to pink—a phase that felt almost overwhelming at times—but then, eventually, the pendulum swung toward purple, and I suppose I’ve stayed there ever since... It remains a favorite of mine, even now.
Everything I claim to know about color theory is nothing more than dry, academic abstraction—warm versus cold, vibrant versus pastel, light versus dark—and frankly, none of those textbook definitions have done much to help me actually connect with them. Still, I suppose there was a certain necessity to forming these mental concepts, even back in my early childhood... a need to categorize the world just to make sense of it. Ultimately, all I’m left with is my own imagination, and my perception of color remains something entirely internal, existing only within the confines of my own mind. For instance, while the textbooks insist that purple is a cool tone, to me, it possesses this inexplicable warmth. It isn't the searing heat you get from a red, of course, but there is a certain glow to it... a comfort. Even if my understanding of the spectrum is wildly detached from reality, I find this subjective version far more interesting—though, I highly doubt I would be able to identify a single actual color if I were suddenly granted sight...

There have been various attempts to stage color through touch, sound, or even scent—an interesting concept, I suppose—but I can’t help but feel that any such experience would be entirely beholden to the individual's subjective perception of those colors... which makes the whole endeavor somewhat precarious. In my own experience, I’ve found that two people can encounter the exact same aroma yet walk away with vastly different impressions and descriptions. If we cannot even agree on the essence of a single scent, how could we ever hope to standardize the "feeling" of a hue? Of course, these sensory experiments aren't entirely without merit—they might offer a fleeting hint or a vague approximation—but they will never truly capture the soul of color... not in any meaningful way.

As someone living with blindness, I find myself constantly confronted by this recurring question regarding color dreams—specifically, how exactly one "sees" in them. There is always this palpable sense of anticipation in the way people ask, an eagerness for me to recount some vivid, Technicolor odyssey that simply doesn't exist... or at least, isn't interesting to me. I don't dream in color, nor do I dream through sight, even though my sleeping mind is perfectly capable of conjuring things that would be physically impossible in reality. For instance, in a dream, I might possess an absolute certainty that an object is positioned right in front of me without ever having touched it—or I’ll know with total clarity that a specific person is standing in the room, even if I haven't heard their voice. I don't "see" them, per se; it is more of a profound, intuitive awareness of their presence... Naturally, those who have spent their lives seeing likely experience a fundamentally different dreamscape—one fueled by their ability to recall colors and the visual textures they've internalized over a lifetime...

I have to admit, the whole concept of regression sounded rather intriguing when it was first brought up—it certainly piqued my interest—but my actual understanding of the mechanics behind it is admittedly thin. I wouldn’t dream of venturing too deep into that particular rabbit hole without more substance... it feels a bit premature to weigh in just yet.

"A world of darkness"... it’s a phrase people toss around all the time, isn't it? And frankly, I find it difficult to wrap my head around the logic behind it. I don't feel like I'm inhabiting some alternate dimension—and believe me, the people I deal with every day, the ones who actually know me, certainly don't perceive me as someone living in some sort of gloomy, shadow-filled void. I constantly get these little comments thrown my way—things like, "Why haven't you turned on the light?" or "Can you grab me that blue shirt?"—as if there were some visual struggle occurring. And since we’re on the subject of darkness—though I realize how difficult this might be for some to grasp—I don't actually know what darkness *is*. Not in the sense we discussed regarding colors, anyway. Because I don't perceive light, the concept of darkness simply doesn't exist for me. This whole idea of "living in the dark" is fundamentally flawed from my perspective; I recently found myself in a rather tedious debate with someone trying to argue the opposite point. They were attempting to convince me that my reality consists entirely of darkness, and that I just somehow fail to recognize it. It was quite absurd... and utterly unconvincing. I tried explaining it to them, much as I have to others, that the visual faculty simply isn't part of my biology. It’s as if I belong to a species that was never equipped with sight to begin with. Just as one cannot see out of their knee or their back because there are no visual receptors there to process an image, I simply do not "see" through eyes...

I’m not entirely sure if this will actually clear things up for any of you—though I certainly tried my best to lay it all out...

Thank you so much for clarifying that. I've always been curious about how blind people actually experience the world around them.
You described it so beautifully. 🙂

Quick question: Since most people are terrified of the dark, what is it that scares you? Is it silence?

Emily Hayes said:Thank you so much for clarifying that. I've always been curious about how blind people actually experience the world around them.
You described it so beautifully. 🙂

Quick question: Since most people are terrified of the dark, what is it that scares you? Is it silence?

🙂 Oh, hell no. It’s actually quite the opposite... What truly unnerves me is an unexpected sound. Almost every single time there's a sudden crack of thunder nearby, I jump out of my skin. Most people get that visual warning—you know, the flash of light—but for me, it's just this sudden, violent boom hitting my ears without any notice... It's much the same when I get lost in my own thoughts and fail to realize someone has walked up behind me—and then they suddenly speak right next to my ear. And honestly, there's more to it: snakes, bugs, the unpredictable nature of a thunderstorm... all those little things that could turn dangerous in an instant.

Douglas Robinson said:🙂 Oh, hell no. It’s actually quite the opposite... What truly unnerves me is an unexpected sound. Almost every single time there's a sudden crack of thunder nearby, I jump out of my skin. Most people get that visual warning—you know, the flash of light—but for me, it's just this sudden, violent boom hitting my ears without any notice... It's much the same when I get lost in my own thoughts and fail to realize someone has walked up behind me—and then they suddenly speak right next to my ear. And honestly, there's more to it: snakes, bugs, the unpredictable nature of a thunderstorm... all those little things that could turn dangerous in an instant.

That’s a really interesting perspective.
I mean, I definitely get spooked by a sudden flash of light when I’m sitting in the dark, much like how I'd jump at a sudden loud noise.
Maybe saying I'm afraid of the dark is a bit of an exaggeration, but total darkness makes me feel incredibly vulnerable. It’s that sense of helplessness—I have nothing to lean on, I can't find my bearings, and I just feel completely lost.
So, I was really just trying to find something that felt like the equivalent of that sensation for you, since you're blind.
I’m guessing that constant, disorienting noise is to you what a bright light shoved in my eyes would be to me.
But if that's the case, what does "darkness" actually feel like to you?

Emily Hayes said:That’s a really interesting perspective.
I mean, I definitely get spooked by a sudden flash of light when I’m sitting in the dark, much like how I'd jump at a sudden loud noise.
Maybe saying I'm afraid of the dark is a bit of an exaggeration, but total darkness makes me feel incredibly vulnerable. It’s that sense of helplessness—I have nothing to lean on, I can't find my bearings, and I just feel completely lost.
So, I was really just trying to find something that felt like the equivalent of that sensation for you, since you're blind.
I’m guessing that constant, disorienting noise is to you what a bright light shoved in my eyes would be to me.
But if that's the case, what does "darkness" actually feel like to you?

The idea regarding noise might actually hold some weight. To be honest, when I find myself in a place that's far too loud, I can feel myself becoming completely disoriented in an instant—it's as if that overwhelming noise acts like a sonic curtain, masking everything I rely on to understand the space around me. Just as you described how intense light can momentarily blind you, excessive noise can effectively deafen my sense of direction. While I'm walking, I rely on listening to perceive obstacles, open spaces, or even just to sense which direction someone is approaching from...

analogsurfer15 said:Scraped this from the web: It’s actually been confirmed that colors affect us whether we can see them in real-time or not. The whole reason behind it is that colors can send out specific vibrations. Back in Russia, they ran some studies with blind people where they were presented with certain colors. Red was usually described as being warm, rough, restless, or even "rattly"... meanwhile, blind participants always described blue as smooth and cold, even though the researchers used the exact same materials with identical temperatures and textures.

I remember seeing a movie on TV once about a blind girl and a guy who fell for her. To explain colors to her, he would have her feel things—an ice cube represented blue, a hot cup of tea was red... interesting, right?

feralviper22 said:He didn't mention scent... I remember seeing a movie once where they said smell is the easiest way to explain it, but that's just a movie, so who knows if there's any truth to it?
Christian Parker2 brought up dreams, which got me thinking: what do blind people dream about? Do they even dream (I mean those who have been blind their whole lives)? And if they do, are those dreams black and white? Maybe someone here knows...

People born blind dream exactly how they perceive the world while they're awake—they dream in sounds, scents, and textures.
Those who lost their sight later on actually have "visual" dreams.

I know this because my ex was blind from birth, and I spent quite a bit of time hanging out with the blind community.

How did he perceive colors?
I know it was never clear to him how sighted people decide where one color ends and another begins on the spectrum. It’s so hard to explain, especially since different languages and cultures categorize things differently—what we might call two distinct colors, another culture might see as just different shades of the same thing. On the flip side, two or three colors we see as unique might all fall under one single name in another language. It's tricky. I've even heard my grandma say red is "yellow." She isn't colorblind; it's just that—for her, that whole section of the spectrum is simply called "yellow."😳

Generally, he only associated colors with specific objects that possessed them. Once, I asked him a random question (out of nowhere, we hadn't even been talking about colors) asking what a potato, urine, and a lemon had in common (I added a few other things too, can't recall them right now) and after a very brief moment of thought, he said: yellow.😁 Aside from that, just by listening to someone's voice and observing their mannerisms (especially women 😁 ), he could often guess pretty accurately what color eyes they had (light or dark), if they were blondes or brunettes, whether they were curvy, fit, or thin, and generally—whether they were attractive, average, or not.
Keep in mind—he's been blind since birth.

Their other senses are much sharper than ours (aside from sight, obviously). But when it comes to colors, it's hard to say. Really hard, and it's always been something that puzzles me... 😢

Taylor Campbell4 said:Through senses other than our own.

True, but even that feels like a bit of a stretch...
For instance, if you were blindfolded and someone let you touch a hot radiator and then a cold one, what would you say their colors are?
I’d probably just guess they were both white. 😳

And don't even get me started on how people can get into these huge debates over whether something is actually blue or purple—or teal vs. green, or red vs. dark pink, and so on.

I mean, can we even truly visualize ultraviolet? Some bugs see that part of the spectrum, sure, but they miss out on things like red, orange, or yellow...
Personally, I can't wrap my head around what ultraviolet or infrared looks like. I mean, I *can* try, 😁 but who really knows what those look like? My eyes just aren't "tuned" to pick up those frequencies.

Regarding the whole thing with letters (I'm just reading through the thread now, but I'm already jumping in with my thoughts 😬)—I don't really associate them with colors, just shapes. We can write letters in any color we want, obviously, but linking a specific color to a specific letter? Not really something I do.
If we look at where the letter "A" originally comes from (from "aleph," which meant ox, I believe, dating back to the ancient Sumarian), then I'd probably associate it with the brown color of an ox's head. And so on...

I've also talked to people about whether they link certain days of the week or even specific countries to certain colors. They do, but their perception is often totally different from mine—it's such a disconnect. For me, red isn't "aggressive." Blue doesn't represent calmness or happiness; for me, green is much more soothing, while orange feels incredibly cheerful. And green isn't "sad" to me either... It all seems so deeply subjective.