I've noticed something amongst today’s children. When I see kids who are 'difficult', 'quiet' or 'hard to get to', they used to be known as just that. But now, more often than not, these kids have now been labelled as neurodivergent. Whether it’s ADHD, or attention deficit disorder or autism, young people under the age of 16 are increasingly being told they have incredibly serious, lifelong medical conditions. Kids now come up to me explaining their rude or brash behaviour as “on the spectrum”. We now have a whole generation of children told to interpret and explain their behaviour through diagnostic labels.
But who is this helping? In fact, is it helping anyone at all? I’ve worked with children as a psychologist for over ten years – and I’m becoming increasingly convinced that it is not.
The term neurodiversity term began appearing in the 90s as away to describe the huge variety of ways people function, socialise and exist in groups. No two brains are the same.
For an adult, diagnosed later in life, the neurodivergent label can be really helpful. Often, people who previously went undiagnosed find a sense of peace once they've realised they have ADHD or autism. It can be a sort of eureka moment, where they understand "that's why I felt that way…"
But with this relatively new term, its use in modern language has become worryingly prevalent. Rather than individuals understanding themselves through a route of self-discovery, we have begun to place labels onto the most vulnerable in our societies: children.
The question that needs to be asked is, who really benefits from the labels that children get burdened with? I would suggest that it is not, as one might expect, the children themselves. Perhaps then it's the adults? Teachers may find it easier to be sympathetic to a child who has the urge to run around the classroom in the knowledge that they have diagnosed ADHD.
We’ve become trigger happy with our new neurodiverse labelling gun
So these labels give teachers and parents a reason for young people’s behaviour. But children like this have existed forever. It’s not that neurodiverse conditions have suddenly started to afflict people, more that we have only just learnt how to diagnose it. And we’ve become trigger happy with our new neurodiverse labelling gun.
Autism diagnosis in young people has risen by nearly 800 per cent in the last 20 years. Still more are awaiting diagnosis due to NHS waiting lists being so jam packed. But it isn't the children themselves who are referring themselves for diagnoses – it’s parents, teachers and carers.
Diagnosis can be seen as a negative word. When we hear it, it is more often associated with illnesses and things to fear. You're diagnosed with psychosis and cancer; you're never diagnosed with happiness or peace. When a neurodivergent child is 'diagnosed', they're immediately provided with a very negative interpretation of the way adults and society will perceive them. Add onto this the full names of the two most common neurodiversity types, Autism Spectrum Disorder (ASD) and Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD), and we have yet another word which can definitely be considered negative: disorder.
So, before a child has fully developed, they are diagnosed with a disorder. That’s disorientating. It's no wonder that a study has found that around 70% of children diagnosed with autism also suffer from depression and anxiety! Again, it’s worth asking who really benefits from these labels?
There is at least one concrete result that diagnoses precipitate - professional support. These interventions range from behavioural therapies and educational support to medication. Of course, sometimes these things help. But not always. For adults who are fearful of how to best look after difficult children, these things can become something of a sticking plaster.
Raising children is always a challenge, but with neurodivergent children, the responsibility can be pushed onto more experienced 'professionals'
As for students, far too often diagnoses are rolled out as if they were subjective parts of a personality. The label becomes a shield for why someone might be underperforming. Perhaps this is a form of self-deception to protect one's self esteem. Yet, as most adults know, excuses and avoiding developing much-needed skills does not support you in growing up. In order to mature, you have to confront the parts of yourself that can be most difficult to deal with. The problem is, when you diagnose a child, far too often you are providing them with an excuse to stay the way they are – and simply blame an immovable part of themselves.
We use these labels as we feel it helps us to understand why a child is the way they are. But the irony is that all children are in a constant flux of change.
Using for the most malleable people in our society isn’t done for the children themselves, it’s done to help adults ‘understand’. They are the ones who feel the need to diagnose, and they are the ones who need extra support once a conclusion has been made. We think we don't have the tools that are needed, but perhaps it’s because we have exaggerated the problem to such an extreme extent.
Raising children is always a challenge, but with neurodivergent children, the responsibility can be pushed onto more experienced 'professionals'. This sends a huge signal to the child that they are disordered.
Modern children and adolescents have grown up in a very strange time, through an unprecedented period of technological development and the isolation of Covid. They are thus different to the children of the 90s, which is when this term was first coined.
We have a Pandora’s Box situation. But we can't put the term back in the box. And based on constant growing waiting lists for diagnoses, the number of kids being labelled will only continue to increase.
Our understanding of neurodiversity has developed, but the impact of these labels has often set children back, instead of forward. We need to rethink the way in which this term is branded upon children. It feels as if it is an excuse. It places children in a box, where their diagnosed disorder is who they are. Before we overwhelm them with negative labels, we might think about the impact that naming this ‘condition’ might have, and whether a child needs to know about it at all.
Patrick Spencer is a mental health specialist with a decade of experience in education
