What critics of neurodiversity don’t realize: there is room for us all
The backlash against neurodiversity is real.
‘Neurodiversity undercuts efforts to support autistic people with higher needs.’
‘Neurodiversity only serves the agenda of autistic people with lower support needs.’
‘Neurodiversity divides the autistic community by encouraging narrow-minded insistence on “group think” and excludes those who see autism as a disability.’
Wrong. Forget the spin. Ignore the nit-picking.
Neurodiversity is simply the idea that autism (along with other neurological differences) is a normally occurring variation of the human genome.
It’s not a value judgment. It’s a simple, big truth. One that inherently widens our view.
Whether an individual experiences autism primarily as a disability, or a gift, is not actually the point. If you think of humanity as an ecosystem, in which a range of differences in ability have always been crucial to our chances of surviving and thriving, neurodiversity starts to make sense at a higher level.
There is nothing wrong with a bowing, shade-dwelling fern, just because it’s not a towering, straight-backed cedar tree. Nor is a cedar an oversized, defective wildflower, just because it doesn’t bloom like an aster. Each has an important role to play in the shared environment. Judge one by the other and its value is lost.
Of course, plants and people are far from a perfect comparison — but isn’t humanity similar in some fundamental ways? To get as far as we have as a species, we’ve needed all kinds of thinkers and doers. Different ways of seeing, and being in, the world. I think of those with a sharp eye for small but crucial details, like whether a berry of slightly darker purple is food or poison. Curious, insatiable explorers whose inability to sit still is linked to discovery of new resources, possibilities, and paths for navigating. Social connectors who nurture, resolve conflicts, and keep communities strong. Heads-down, laser-focused minds who relish, or take comfort in, the repetition required for vital tasks related to building, prepping or gathering food, and any number of crucial forms of day-to-day or seasonal labor. Innovators who think far beyond what is, to what could be. And so on, and so on.
No single one of us can do it all. In fact, to be great at one is to be incapable of others. Community creates a shared brain, of sorts, capable of meeting the needs of everyone together.
Today, we are more isolated than at any time in human history. The erasure of the village highlights our weaknesses. So instead of relying on a web of strengths dispersed throughout a close-knit community, we are tasked with “doing it all” for our own small household. Sure, at least for privileged people, our employment ideally leans on our innate abilities or learned specialties, but even there, we’re all supposed to be ‘detail-oriented, big-picture creative thinkers who are excellent communicators, good with people, and can stay on budget and deliver ahead of schedule.’ Even for neurotypical people, the inability to be everything to everyone is pathologized.
The concept of neurodiversity invites us to step back and consider why something is difficult, rather than assuming difficulty as pathology. It’s a more honest lens through which to look at ourselves and each other. Different kinds of brains are simply part of the human ecosystem. Not tragedies that fall far from a perfect ideal. Disability is normal. Autism is normal. ADHD, dyslexia, dyscalculia, too. They are all part of the neurodiverse human species and experience. That’s it.
Neurodiversity is a common-sense platform that demands we support all the various ways of thinking and being. Because all are valid. All humans hold value. And difference is part of what it means to be human.
Without neurodiversity as part of our understanding of the world, how do we view autism? Purely as a disorder to be eradicated? That belief has destroyed lives, creating a reality in which life expectancy for autistic people is horrifying low and unemployment exceedingly high. That mentality has overlooked connection and contribution, and has instead locked in on correction and conformity. That is the tragedy.
Whether you are proud of being autistic or not, you are here. You represent a way of thinking and being that has long been part of the spectrum of humanity. You matter — your struggles, anger, joy, passions, all of it. If you desire treatment, it should be provided to you. If you do not desire treatment, you should be free from that expectation. Neurodiversity makes room for whatever path leads to the quality of life you seek. You deserve to be supported and embraced. Seen and heard. Not feared or excluded.
Neurodiversity gives us a new lens through which to look at each other and ourselves, with the clarity of openness and empathy. So let’s start there.
Related writings by Amber:
Show don’t tell: Embracing inclusion is a must for economic progress
