A Reflection on Neurodiversity and Popular Culture: A Cautionary Tale of Trends
By Nicholas Bamonte
One Step Forward, Two Steps Back
As a neurodiversity advocate and proponent of psychotherapy, I’d like to say that the continued destigmatization of mental health/learning/developmental disorders has been an objective improvement in society. That people feel comfortable not only acknowledging the existence of and talking about these various forms of neurodiversity, but feel safe and comfortable enough to freely identify with their diagnoses, has only made society better. I’d like to say that, but I would be lying. In truth, I can’t help but worry that the enthusiasm with which many parts of society have taken to the concept of neurodiversity acceptance is something of a double-edged sword.
While social media posts have brought awareness of many forms of neurodiversity to people who may have otherwise never known of them, even helping people recognize the neurodiversity within themselves, this has not come without dangers and pitfalls. There is a saying among neurodiversity advocates; “If you’ve met one (person with a form of neurodiversity), you’ve met only one.” While the myriad of psychological conditions have specific diagnostic guidelines, associated symptoms, and definitions, this is often tempered with an implicit understanding that the specific symptoms experienced or the ways in which they manifest within a person can vary dramatically. As these conditions enter the popular public consciousness, this implicit understanding is often lost, however. The subtleties of symptoms and behavior become painted over by easy-to-understand generalizations and extreme examples. A few outspoken examples become the standard by which all are judged. Simple half-truths distort into genuine misinformation. Disorders that people struggle against become “trendy”. This is dangerous.
Trend Chasing
During the COVID-19 Pandemic, clinicians and others in the mental health field noted a significant increase in teenagers reporting tics and other symptoms of Tourette’s syndrome. Said clinicians noted that this increase coincided with a rise in popularity of videos on TikTok about people with Tourette’s sharing their experiences and raising awareness. Given the predisposition of the teenage age group to seek out ways to adopt behavior and attitudes that help differentiate them, or make them “unique” and “different”, as part of their drive to form a distinct identity, there have been concerns that this rise isn’t an expression of genuine Tourette’s syndrome. Instead, that this is more a form of “mass sociogenic illness” a condition where symptoms of an illness are spread throughout a social group, not through any identifiable conventional agent of infection, but through social interaction and, theoretically, suggestion.5 The fact that there has been repeated controversy surrounding the “Tourette’s influencers” community and the faking of the disorder should only be a further warning sign.
Another concerning example is an even earlier trend involving Dissociative Identity Disorder (DID), more commonly known by its previous name of multiple personality disorder, or “systems”, as the subjects would often refer to themselves.4 This trend involved people on social media (TikTok in particular) claiming to have DID, but describing their condition and experiences in ways that are closer to pop-culture depictions than genuine psychological literature, such as claiming that the many different personalities all inhabit a sort of mental “headspace” similar to the symbolic representations of abstract thought processes popular in fiction, such as the movie “Inside Out”. In other words, they say that their multiple personalities are actual little people who live in a shared space together and control the body like a giant robot. The commonality of alternate personalities similar to popular fictional characters should further highlight why this trend was largely criticized for fraud.
A Long Shadow
For many, this is probably the first time that you have heard of these controversies and trends, and you think that my concern is overexaggerated or unwarranted. To that, I reply with a third, more historic example, the explosion of awareness and diagnosis of ADHD in the 2000s, and the subsequent controversies and stigma that cling to the disorder to this day. Those who were aware during the late 1990s-early 2000s will no doubt remember a sudden increase in ADHD diagnoses in the US, and the subsequent national discussions.9 As the disorder had only just acquired its modern name in the 1987 release of a revised “Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders Third Edition” or DSM-III, this was the first time that the public at large had really been exposed to it.8 To many, kids being distractible and hyperactive seemed perfectly natural, and that doctors were pathologizing “normal behavior”. Alongside this came new medications that people hadn’t really heard of before being prescribed to kids to make them more focused and quiet, or from another perspective, more docile. Skeptics saw not an attempt to assist and correct a developmental disability that causes struggle and suffering, but adults drugging kids to make them more tolerable and convenient, and inventing an ad hoc medical justification for their callousness.
Now as a person who suffers from ADHD, they’re wrong and it does exist, let me get that out of the way. However, they weren’t necessarily wrong to be concerned and skeptical. You should remember how casually and frequently the term “ADHD” was thrown around in those days. Any display of hyperactive behavior became associated with ADHD, no matter how minor or momentary. Talking about ADHD became “trendy”, and physicians are all too human. Millions of practicing psychiatrists now found themselves dealing with a disorder that, up until then, had been relatively obscure. Many of them where probably only hearing about it themselves for the first time. While they had the DSM-III and published research articles to help them understand it, descriptions and secondary sources aren’t always enough to make up for a lack of personal experience. With a lack of previous cases to compare with and the prevalent national discussions in the background, it’s not unreasonable to suspect that many were misdiagnosed or prescribed medication when it wasn’t necessary. After all, a clinician is meant to serve the needs of their patients. Imagine the multitude of parents, both new and preexisting clients, suddenly all asking about the same new diagnosis, all wondering if their child might have it. It’s not hard to see how one could decide on a “let’s try it and see if it helps” approach. I’m not condemning these parents and clinicians, I am simply reminding that the chaos of that surge of awareness had consequences, some of which linger to this day. Some still hold the belief that ADHD is a fake disorder, an excuse to effectively tranquilize unruly kids. Even outside of that group, many ADHD medications still carry the stigma born from this time, the concerns about overmedication and horror stories of certain severe reactions and side effects. There are probably many people who would benefit from medication, but avoid it because of these lingering stigma and concerns.
“The road to Hell is paved with good intentions”, as the old saying goes. As neurodiversity advocates, we cannot simply stop our efforts to destigmatize neurodiversity and spread awareness. However, our best intentions are not enough to guarantee good outcomes. We must be willing to temper ourselves with reasonable caution and diligence. We have a responsibility to keep a finger on the pulse of the wider public conversation, and take precaution to keep it from going off the rails. One way I do this personally is that I try to maintain a sense of objectivity when engaging with neurodiversity. Rather than let myself get swept up in the excitement and positive affirmations, I always try to engage deeper and consider the alternative perspective. Would this make sense or seem appealing to someone unfamiliar with neurodiversity? Is this based off of an opinion or a fact? Is this a reasonable request for the non-neurodivergent community? I don’t think that everyone should necessarily follow my path, we need excitement and passion to push things forward and I fear that I can be a bit of a wet blanket, but I do think that it’s important to adopt some level of critical analysis, caution, and self-reflection. We may not want neurodiversity to be seen as something to be uncomfortable or ashamed of, but we shouldn’t want it to be seen as “cool” or “trendy” either. Trends can be fickle and shallow, and I don’t think any of us want to see neurodiversity be seen as a mere trend to follow and forget.
Sources:
- https://www.wired.com/story/tiktok-tourettes/
- https://www.trillmag.com/life/social-media/self-undiagnosing-a-deep-dive-into-mental-health-on-tiktok/
- https://www.vice.com/en/article/teenage-girls-tics-lockdown/
- https://www.teenvogue.com/story/dissociative-identity-disorder-on-tiktok
- https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC9014744/
- https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mass_psychogenic_illness
- https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Social_contagion
- https://www.healthline.com/health/adhd/history
- https://www.cdc.gov/adhd/data/adhd-throughout-the-years.html
- https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pmc/articles/PMC3000907/
My name is Nicholas Bamonte, and I am neurodivergent. My formal diagnosis’ are dyslexia and ADHD, though the aspect of neurodiversity that I have struggled with the most throughout my life is slow processing speed, which is not typically recognized as a diagnosable disorder in itself. Thanks to early intervention, I do not really remember much of my struggles with dyslexia, though the poor executive functioning aspect of ADHD and often feeling behind the rest of the crowd are a different manner entirely. A graduate of FIU with a Bachelor of Arts in Psychology, I hope to assist the millions of people who struggle with learning differences and the difficulties that come with living in a world not designed with their particular brains in mind. Even if only as an advocate who helps to spread awareness, the feeling that you’re not alone and that your condition is recognized by society goes a long way in itself.
