A linguistic revolution has swept through disability and mental health spaces over the past decade. The terms neurodiverse, neurodivergent, and neurotypical have moved from activist circles into clinical settings, corporate DEI statements, and mainstream discourse. While many celebrate this as a victory for recognition and inclusion, a growing chorus of voices within the autistic and disability communities raises a provocative question: Has the neurodivergent umbrella become so large it no longer shelters those it was originally designed to protect?

This is not merely semantic policing. This debate strikes at the heart of disability identity, resource allocation, and what happens when a radical concept becomes mainstream.

1. The Origins: A Radical Paradigm Shift

To understand the present tension, we must first return to the origins of these terms.

· Neurodiversity: Coined by Australian sociologist Judy Singer in the late 1990s, this is a biological fact. It refers to the infinite variation in human neurocognition across our species. It is a concept, not a label for an individual. Like "biodiversity," it describes a collective reality.

· Neurodivergent: Popularized within the autistic self-advocacy movement, this term describes an individual whose brain functions in ways that diverge significantly from the dominant societal standards (neurological typicality). It was originally anchored to specific, stigmatized conditions: autism, ADHD, dyslexia, Tourette's, etc.

· Neurotypical: A term for those whose neurological development and functioning align with dominant societal expectations.

The power of this framework was its political and social weight. It moved the conversation from "What is wrong with you?" to "How does your brain work?" It challenged pathology-based models and argued that many neurological differences are natural, valid forms of human existence that are disabled by societal structures, not by their own nature.

2. The Dilution: When Everyone Is Neurodivergent

The controversy ignites when we examine the term's rapid expansion. What began as a specific identifier for a defined group is now often applied to:

· Clinical mental health conditions (e.g., anxiety, depression, PTSD)

· Learned personality traits or coping mechanisms

· The normal spectrum of human emotion and experience (e.g., "I'm so OCD about my desk")

This is the heart of the critique: When the term "neurodivergent" expands to include virtually every human experience, it ceases to be a meaningful identifier for a marginalized group with specific support needs.

3. The Case for Specificity: Why Labels Matter for Disability

For many autistic adults and those with other developmental disabilities, the dilution of "neurodivergent" feels like the latest form of erasure.

3.1. The Resource Allocation Argument

Disability accommodations are not infinite. In workplaces and universities, when "neurodivergent" expands to include temporary stress or mild personality quirks, it risks trivializing the significant accommodations required by those with more profound disabilities. Requesting a quiet room to prevent meltdowns is not equivalent to preferring a quiet space to focus. Conflating the two risks turning legitimate, legally-mandated accommodations into perceived preferences.

3.2. The Identity and Community Argument

Specific labels (autistic, ADHDer, dyslexic) carry shared cultural experiences, struggles, and joys. They create communities of mutual understanding. Blurring these distinct experiences under a vast umbrella can isolate those with the most significant needs within their own community. As one autistic advocate stated: "My experience of being unable to speak under stress, of navigating a world of sensory landmines, is not the same as someone who is simply introverted or detail-oriented. Calling us all 'neurodivergent' doesn't unite us; it silences me."

3.3. The Risk of Depoliticization

The neurodiversity movement was born from disability justice. It is inherently political, challenging systemic ableism and fighting for the rights, autonomy, and value of people with specific neurotypes. When corporations co-opt the term "neurodiversity" to describe any form of "thinking outside the box," they strip it of its activist meaning. It becomes a buzzword for diversity initiatives that avoid the harder work of accessibility and anti-ableism.

4. The Case for the Umbrella: The Power of a Coalition

Despite these valid concerns, many argue for the inclusive use of "neurodivergent."

· Solidarity and Numbers: There is power in a coalition. A larger group advocating for neurological acceptance can create wider cultural change that benefits everyone underneath the umbrella.

· Reducing Stigma: Broadening understanding that many people think differently can reduce stigma for all, making it easier for those with higher support needs to be open about their disabilities.

· Spectrum of Experience: Some argue that many mental health conditions (like CPTSD) can fundamentally alter brain function, creating a neurodivergence from a person's previous baseline or the societal norm.

5. Navigating the Tension: Toward Precision and Respect

This is not an issue with a simple right or wrong answer. It is a tension within a living, evolving community. The path forward likely lies in precision and intentionality.

5.1. For Individuals and Advocates:

· Use Specific Labels When They Apply: If you are autistic, say "autistic." If you have ADHD, claim that. Specificity builds stronger communities.

· Use "Neurodivergent" as an Umbrella, Not an Eraser: It can be a useful term in coalition-building or when discussing systemic issues that affect many groups (e.g., stigma against atypical thinking).

· Respect Self-Identification: While advocating for precision, we must also respect that individuals are the experts on their own experiences and may choose labels that feel most authentic to them.

5.2. For Organizations and Clinicians:

· Avoid Buzzword Dilution: Do not use "neurodiversity" as a feel-good synonym for "everyone's brain is different." Acknowledge its roots in disability justice.

· Prioritize Needs-Based Language: Instead of asking "How can we support neurodivergent employees?" ask "What specific barriers do autistic employees, employees with ADHD, and employees with dyslexia face?" This leads to more effective accommodations.

· Center the Most Impacted: In neurodiversity initiatives, centre the voices and needs of those with the most significant disabilities, ensuring the movement does not leave them behind in a quest for broader inclusion.

Conclusion: Inclusion Without Erasure

The fear that over-inclusion dilutes disability identity is not ableist; it is a legitimate concern born from a long history of being overlooked, spoken for, and having needs minimized. The goal is not to gatekeep or police identity but to advocate for precision that serves a purpose. The purpose of language in this context is to accurately describe experience, build authentic community, and secure the right resources and accommodations for those who need them to survive and thrive.

True inclusion isn't about making a term so broad it includes everyone. It's about creating a society with enough nuance and flexibility to see, name, and honour difference without hierarchy, ensuring that specific needs are met without diminishing the value of any human experience. The neurodiversity paradigm remains powerful. Its future strength may depend on our ability to hold both the collective power of the umbrella and the essential, un-erased specificity of the individuals standing beneath it.

A.S. is dedicated to being autism specific. We understand that the autistic and neurodivergent community commonly experiences co-occurring conditions like anxiety, depression, and C-PTSD. The symptom overlap between autism and these comorbidities is complex, which is why we believe respectful dialogue on difficult topics is crucial for moving forward.