Labels vs Neurotypes

Have you watched Atypical on Netflix? It’s a fitting portrayal of the stereotype of an autistic teenager: unaware of how to interact with his peers, awkward and uncomfortable unless he knows the situation he’s going into or it’s part of an established routine, and maintaining his “special interests” in penguins, which he has learnt to use to calm himself in difficult moments.

I have a problem with labels because they group together individuals with neurotypes that often share very little in common, which further exacerbates stereotypes and misunderstandings. Autism, ADHD and comorbidities such as dyslexia, dyspraxia and dyscalculia are increasingly talked about and clinically diagnosed – the long waiting lists are evidence of this. However, the definitions are often too stark: labelling people as either “neurodivergent” or “neurotypical” fails to take into account the importance of the unique individual and what makes them who they are – their neurotype.

AuDHD is increasingly being used to describe someone who is both ADHD and autistic: two separate parts of who they are that can often conflict with one another. Perhaps someone feels bored within their normal routine, while at the same time becoming increasingly anxious when trying the new things they constantly crave for stimulation. They might love loud music and then suddenly not want to hear any noise at all, including you speaking to them. Can you relate to this? So many people can, which is why it’s important to make mental health support more accessible – such as coaching – as it increases self-awareness, self-compassion and resilience.

Labels do serve an important purpose. In many cases they protect the individual, whether child or adult, as they enable the law, such as The Equality Act (2010) and the Children and Families Act (2014), to support neurodivergent people with reasonable adjustments at work and Education, Health and Care Plans (EHCPs) in schools. Nevertheless, in the UK adults have only been able to receive an ADHD diagnosis under the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual (DSM-5) since 2013, and AuDHD is not formally recognised in the DSM at all. This means someone must obtain both an autism and an ADHD diagnosis separately. AuDHD is society-driven, not clinically driven.

There is a great deal of power in society, communities and what the average person believes. There are many narratives around neurodiversity and how we can become more neuro-affirming as a society, particularly alongside the increase in neurodivergent diagnoses. At some point, we became more comfortable attempting to understand the importance of mental health and how it relates to both body and mind – recognising that they are intrinsically connected and part of the same thing: physical health is often a direct reflection of someone’s current mental health.

Quite often I see people being referred to as “neurodiverse”. When I hear this, I picture one brain containing many different brains, because neurodiversity describes all of us collectively, not one individual. Referring to someone or yourself as “neurodivergent” appears far more neuro-affirming than breaking the self down into a multitude of labels. This is, of course, a personal preference and everyone has their own way of wanting to be recognised and seen. However, it may protect people to use a single term rather than having to list their endless diagnoses or mental health conditions such as anxiety or OCD, simply referring to themselves as “neurodivergent”.

I see being neurodivergent as having different base volume levels. Some individuals have a natural ability to feel other people’s emotions - their volume is loud here. They recognise the smallest changes in someone they know, or even someone they don’t, sensing that something is different or wrong, and may ask if they’re okay. Empathy, decoding body language, recognising patterns and noticing small details may be one neurotype, and this may resonate with you. There are others who are more controlling and need to stay within routine; they may experience emotions differently or less intensely in the moment, and dislike overstimulation such as loud noises or people talking too loudly – but this doesn’t mean they lack awareness or care. Or there may be someone who experiences a mix of under- and overstimulation within the space of just a few minutes. The point is, we are all different, and no single neurotype is likely to be the same.

I predict that we will continue to learn much more about different neurotypes, and that labels may become less important than understanding the unique wiring of an individual brain and their very unique self. Since the 1990s, advances in brain imaging have greatly improved our understanding of what actually happens in the brain, including processes such as neuroplasticity – famously summarised by Donald Hebb as “neurons that fire together, wire together”. Research shows that experience has a profound impact on who someone is and who they may become, well into adulthood and beyond.

If you would like to learn more about yourself or your child, I would love to support you in understanding your neurotype(s) and in obtaining reasonable adjustments at work or in school.

Recommended reading:
The Body Keeps the Score: Brain, Mind, and Body in the Healing of Trauma – Bessel van der Kolk
The Myth of Normal: Illness, Health and Healing in a Toxic Culture – Gabor Maté
The Age of Diagnosis: Are Medical Labels Doing Us More Harm Than Good? – Suzanne O’Sullivan
AuDHD: Blooming Differently – Leanne Maskell