How Sign-Language Interpreting Works in the U.S.
— Modalities, Credentials, Law, Campus Access, and Twenty Years of Change

1. So many kinds of “interpreting”

In Japan, when people hear “sign-language interpreting,” most picture a single thing. In the U.S., the interpreting and access a deaf or hard-of-hearing person can receive is divided into several kinds (modalities), and the person chooses which to use. The main ones:

So even within “access for deaf and hard-of-hearing people,” the means are matched to the person's language background: ASL interpreting for those whose first language is ASL, English-based signing for those who prefer something closer to English, oral interpreting for those who rely on speech-reading, and CART for those who prefer text. The sense of “being able to choose” that I saw as an exchange student is still there at the root of the system.

2. Credentials — who is recognized as “able to interpret”

With so many kinds, there is also a well-developed system of credentials to vouch that a given person can actually interpret. At its center is the Registry of Interpreters for the Deaf (RID).

The flagship national credential RID oversees is the NIC (National Interpreter Certification), awarded to hearing interpreters who have demonstrated general knowledge of interpreting, ethical judgment, and interpreting skill. The exam has two parts — a multiple-choice knowledge test and a video-based interview and performance test — administered by a dedicated body, CASLI. There is also a national credential for deaf people who interpret, the CDI (Certified Deaf Interpreter), which has run since 1998.

K-12 educational interpreting has another yardstick. The EIPA (Educational Interpreter Performance Assessment) rates expressive and receptive interpreting on a 0–5 scale; the minimum states require is generally around 3.5–4.0. California, for instance, has required educational interpreters to hold EIPA 4.0 or above by rule since 2009. States also run their own certifications — Texas's BEI (Board for Evaluation of Interpreters) certifies skill at Basic, Advanced, and Master levels.

One difference from Japan worth flagging. Even in the U.S., RID's NIC is a voluntary national credential, not a government-issued license (RID is a professional registry, not a regulator). In that respect it resembles Japan's “Certified Sign Language Interpreter” — a public qualification that is not a business monopoly, so interpreting can legally be done without it. What differs is state-level regulation. In the U.S., roughly 31 states require interpreters to be licensed (usually predicated on RID certification), and even states without licensure often require credentials in settings such as courts, schools, and government (licensing requirements by state). The foundation — “a credential proves the individual's competence” — is shared by both countries, but the U.S. adds a legal duty on top in high-risk settings. That is where the two diverge.

3. The law says it must be provided

The biggest reason American access is so thick is that providing interpreting is a legal duty. At the center is the ADA (Americans with Disabilities Act). Its Title II (state and local government) and Title III (private places of public accommodation) require providing the means needed to communicate effectively (“effective communication”) with deaf and hard-of-hearing people.

Federal regulation (28 CFR §35.104) defines a “qualified interpreter” as someone who “can interpret effectively, accurately, and impartially, both receptively and expressively, using any necessary specialized vocabulary” — whether on-site or remotely (VRI) — and lists, as examples, sign-language interpreters, oral transliterators, and cued-speech transliterators. Under Title II there is also a duty to give “primary consideration” to the person's own preference for which means to use.

At school, IDEA (the Individuals with Disabilities Education Act) and Section 504 of the Rehabilitation Act are added on top. Deaf children in public schools are owed a free appropriate public education (FAPE) and communication “as effective as” that provided to hearing peers, and authorities are told they must apply “both the IDEA analysis and the Title II effective-communication analysis.”

4. The phone, and on-site remote — VRS and VRI

American remote interpreting has two easily-confused but quite different things:

VRS is a mechanism for phone access, and the FCC has stated plainly that “VRS must not be used in place of in-person interpreting or VRI.” VRS grew explosively in its early years: monthly minutes rose from about 870,000 in June 2004 to about 2.14 million in June 2005 — roughly tripling in a single year. On the policy side, the 2010 CVAA (Twenty-First Century Communications and Video Accessibility Act) extended relay-service obligations to IP-based voice providers and set up funding for equipment for deafblind people.

5. Access at university — ask, and the school covers it

The biggest stage for the “being able to choose” I saw as an exchange student was the university. At American universities, deaf and hard-of-hearing students go to Disability Services and settle on support through an ongoing interactive process with a coordinator. It is not decided mechanically from a diagnosis or audiogram alone; it is adjusted to the person's language preferences and to the concrete situation of each class — an approach that treats the person as “the expert on their own access needs.”

The means offered are broad, too: on-site ASL interpreting, oral interpreting, and tactile signing; text interpreting such as CART (C-Print, TypeWell); note-taking; and remote VRI. And crucially, the cost. According to the U.S. Department of Education, the university has a duty to provide the needed auxiliary aids and services in a timely way, and may not charge the student for them. The standard here, again, is “effective communication.” Note-taking may be enough for a large lecture, while a discussion-based seminar needs an interpreter — it is judged by the situation.

The U.S. also has entire universities for deaf and hard-of-hearing people. The best-known is Gallaudet University — a comprehensive university for deaf and hard-of-hearing students in Washington, D.C., chartered in 1864 and one of very few of its kind in the world. In its ASL–English bilingual environment, students and faculty interact directly in both languages, and “direct access” without an interpreter is possible.

Another is NTID (the National Technical Institute for the Deaf) — a hub of technical education for deaf students housed within the Rochester Institute of Technology (RIT), established by federal law in 1965. Its access-services department has one of the largest sign-language interpreting staffs in higher education, providing over 130,000 hours of interpreting a year, so that deaf and hard-of-hearing students can learn in an environment close to that of a mainstream university.

6. What has changed in twenty years

So what changed between when I studied there (the late 2000s) and now? Looking into it, there are a few clear shifts.

First, an interpreter shortage. The National Deaf Center (NDC) calls the shortage a “concerning trend,” citing working conditions — low pay, unstable scheduling, working solo — and rising demand for specialized interpreting as more deaf students enter medicine and technical fields. The same worry Japan has exists in the U.S. too.

Second, the expansion of remote (VRI) and the rise of AI auto-captioning. To cope with the shortage, universities widened remote interpreting, and some moved to adopt automatic captioning via automatic speech recognition (ASR). But the NDC states plainly that auto-captioning accuracy averages only 60–70%, is weak on specialized terms, proper nouns, and distinguishing speakers, and therefore that “ASR is not considered effective communication.” Litigation and settlements involving Harvard, MIT, and UC Berkeley likewise confirmed that auto-captioning alone does not meet ADA requirements. New technology is a supplement; human on-site interpreting and CART remain the standard — that is the American position.

And it was twenty years in which new forms of interpreting were born. ProTactile, for deafblind people, is a relatively new language and movement that emerged in Seattle in 2007. Meanwhile, some credentials were consolidated — RID's Oral Transliteration Certificate stopped issuing new certifications between 1999 and 2016, for instance. The professional recognition of deaf interpreting (CDI) has risen steadily over this period.

7. A view from Japan

Laying out the American system, the difference from Japan seems to lie — before “more or less budget” — in the design of the thinking. Providing interpreting is written as a legal duty; a “qualified interpreter” is defined in the words of the regulation; at university it is provided at the institution's expense once the person asks. And above all, the person can choose which means to use. ASL, English-based signing, oral, cued, text — the differences in how each individual receives information are woven into the system from the start.

Of course the U.S. has its interpreter shortage too, and new challenges like over-reliance on remote and AI. It is no utopia. Even so, placing “did it get through effectively?” at the center, and treating a diversity of means as a given, looks like a real hint for Japan as it thinks about pay transparency — and, beyond it, the shape of employment.