Why Neurodiversity Needs to go Bigger

The neurodiversity movement has achieved a robust momentum in recent years, so much so that its primary terms, neurodiverse and neurotypical, can be found in many online discussion forums and even on merchandise. Through this movement, people with autism, ADHD, Tourette Syndrome and other classically defined mental disorders or conditions have been able to stress that their difference is not disorder while advocating for greater awareness and fairer treatment. The term neurodiverse implies neurological diversity, which places the movement alongside other social movements and activism that herald diversity as one of the highest human values. This new language also helps to break stigmas that come with older, more medical and psychiatric terminology, which are unfortunately tarnished with a history of spurious research and a lack of compassion.

The problem is that these terms are not the hardened saviors they appear.

Neurodiverse is not a well-defined term. Most definitions offered are a variation of somebody choosing to identify as neurodiverse because they have either been diagnosed (or self-diagnosed) with a common mental disorder. The term itself is not a diagnosis, but rather how the person has chosen to identify, and in an online era where personal identifiers have become important, it is not surprising that this term has picked up currency. Literally speaking, neurodiversity offers us nothing in comparison to any other human; every brain there ever was, is, and will ever be, was, is, or will be unique, and even within our own brains, moment to moment, our brains enter different states and demonstrate forever-changing biochemical activity.

All brains are neurodiverse all the time.

Neurotypical is also problematic. From the perspective of a social movement, this term has been adopted to be the ‘other’ to neurodiverse. The existence of this term helps to frame plights, discussion, and argument by giving a name to the hypothetical person who does not have to endure the same struggles as the neurodiverse. When descriptions of social or work situations can be framed as benefitting the neurotypical, it allows the neurodiverse to further define themselves, and in some cases provide a target for the ire that the neurodiverse feel from the social difficulty they encounter. However, neurotypical is also not a diagnosis, and nobody would choose to identify as neurotypical. By comparison, the term would be as meaningless as referring to somebody as somato-typical.

The pervasiveness of this relatively new movement does trespass into fields where it is not compatible. The movement, perhaps unintentionally, has intruded into scientific language and discourse. With language that is for social identity purposes only, the terms neurodiversity and neurotypical have no place in medicine or psychiatry. To answer research questions, an experimental group is created where the participants meet certain diagnostic criteria, and a control group is created of individuals that do not meet that criteria. The control group are not considered typical or normal as these terms do not really mean anything in medicine. And yet, perhaps due to the positivity associated with the term neurodiverse we are starting to see its use in journals that should know better. These scientific errors are further exacerbated because the growth of people identifying as neurodiverse has translated to an available market, which means that the movement’s messaging has been promoted to address business needs.

With poorly defined terms and scientific errors, it is hard to see how the movement will move beyond establishing a sense of community. The goal of all social movements, beyond spreading awareness, is usually to achieve a degree of equality and justice. However, unlike the glass ceiling and other prejudicial barriers, neurotypicality does not exist. There is also no suggestion why identifying as neurodivergent is better than identifying as autistic or somebody with ADHD. Living with these disorders does intimately impact a person’s lifestyle and perhaps should be embraced as a key part of their personality. The term autist is already in use, and there is even a term for somebody without autism, allist. Allist does not imply typicality or normality.

If we could encourage the public and researchers to think more in terms of difference than disorder, we could see greater understanding and better social accommodations for those who need them. It might even be beneficial to talk to patients about their mental health disorder as both something where available therapy could help, but also as part of their personality and lifestyle.

There is every possibility that the neurodiversity movement is giving patients a sense of empowerment that they do not feel once diagnosed, in fact a diagnosis might make them feel less of a person, or broken. Given that neurodiversity has become a positive identifier for those with mental disorders, a diagnosis is not unlike a person accepting their sexuality and feeling motivated to come out of the closet. A diagnosis, therefore, must not feel like the acceptance of a doomed fate, but a celebration of knowing oneself, on a new and exciting journey.

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