It's a weird thing when your little social backwater suddenly becomes outrageously popular. In many ways, it's really exciting that more and more people are starting to grasp what neurodiversity actually means –and how prevalent it really is. It’s a huge step forward from seeing neurodivergent ways of being as something "wrong" or needing to be "cured", or "fixed." But, here’s the thing: whenever something becomes more widely recognised, there's a risk that it gets turned into a commodity. And sadly, in my opinion, and that of some others, that's exactly what's happening with neurodiversity.

What is the Commodification of Neurodivergence?

Basically, it's when neurodivergent traits, experiences, or even our very identities get packaged up and sold for a profit. It's about turning something that's just a part of who someone is into a "problem" that needs a paid-for "solution," or a "trend" that companies can cash in on. This is what Dr Nick Walker calls "the pathology problem". Think about it: if there's a perceived need, or a new "market" to tap into, businesses often follow – but not always with the best intentions for the people they're supposedly serving.

Three Ways You Might Recognise This Process

Commodification isn't always super obvious. Sometimes it's quite subtle, preying on our anxieties or a general lack of understanding, sometimes it's explicitly advertised and marketed either to neurodivergent people or the poor neurotypical people who have to live with us.

1. The "Cure" and "Fix" Machine: This is perhaps the trickiest one, and one I am definitely complicit in it. We're talking about all those expensive therapies, specific diets, trendy supplements, or programmes that promise to "normalise" or "smooth out" neurodivergent traits. These often target worried parents, who just want the best for their kids, worried neurotypical partners, or neurodivergent adults who've internalised the idea that they should be more "normal."

Don't get me wrong, of course I believe that I offer genuine, ethical, therapeutic support (which therapist doesn't?!), but I also can't pretend that I'm not part of the problem. My justification is that I avoid the commodification factor by being neuro-affirming and not seeing neurodivergence as something to be cured, rather than a way of being that needs understanding and support. But I put my hand up and acknowledge this is a very grey area.

2. Neurodiversity as a Marketing Trend (Like Rainbowashing or Greenwashing): An example of this is Barclays Bank splashing their logo all over Pride events, leading to accusations of "rainbowashing" – supporting the LGBTQ+ community publicly while not having the best record internally. Or how about how companies "greenwash" by making their products look eco-friendly without actually reducing their environmental impact?

Well, the same thing is happening with neurodiversity. You'll see companies suddenly adopting "neurodiversity-friendly" branding or language, using symbols like the puzzle piece (which most autistic people find profoundly problematic), or marketing "sensory-friendly" items without proper consultation or genuine care. It's about jumping on a bandwagon and looking inclusive, rather than actually doing the deep work of being inclusive and making appropriate accommodations.

3. Profiting from People's Pain, Confusion, and Vulnerability: This is where the ethics really get murky, as this article about marketing to vulnerable people explains. Many of these commodified "solutions" are sold to people who are really struggling – struggling to understand themselves, struggling with societal expectations, or struggling to navigate a world not built for them. When businesses swoop in with expensive, unregulated "hacks," quick fixes, or coaching that doesn't have a solid evidence base, they're essentially making money directly from that pain, anxiety, and vulnerability. It's a bit like selling a desperate person a magic potion instead of offering real, sustainable help.

Why Does This Really Matter?

I'm not against people making money, or people in helping and caring professions being paid appropriately. What I object to is the exploitative and harmful aspects of this commodification. To explain:

1. It Stokes Ableism: It constantly reinforces the idea that being neurodivergent is a deficit or a problem, not just a different way of being. This undermines the whole point of the neurodiversity social movement!

2. Exploitation and Financial Strain: Families and individuals can end up spending fortunes on stuff that doesn't help, leaving them poorer, more under-resourced, and more desperate.

3. Misleading and Stereotyping: It often boils down complex identities to simple, marketable traits, reinforcing harmful stereotypes rather than fostering real understanding.

4. Drowning Out Real Voices: When the focus is on what sells, the authentic experiences and needs of neurodivergent people can get completely lost or ignored.

5. Fuels Self-Doubt: For neurodivergent individuals, already battling internalised ableism, this constant push to "fix" or "normalise" yourself makes true self-acceptance even harder.

What Can We Do About It?

It might feel overwhelming, but we can absolutely make a difference by being smart consumers and allies:

1. Be a Conscious Shopper: Before buying into any "neurodiversity solution," do your homework! Look for proper evidence, transparency, and – most importantly – what a diverse range of neurodivergent people are actually saying about it.

2. Back Neurodivergent-Led Ventures: Support the businesses, creators, and professionals who are themselves neurodivergent. Those of us with lived and professional experience are more likely to be producing materials that are helpful to you. Usually (but not always!), we truly get it and are working for the community's benefit, not just profit, as this article discusses. 

3. Demand Real Inclusivity, Not Just Buzzwords: Push for genuine accessibility, proper accommodations, and respectful environments everywhere – schools, workplaces, public spaces. It's about changing systems, not just raising "awareness."

4. Challenge Tokenism: Question organisations that suddenly realise that neurodivergent folks bring unique skills to the table (hello, tech industries!). While that's great in theory, it turns into commodification when they don't provide proper accommodations, e.g. "We want your brain for this specific task, but we're not so bothered about you as a whole person."

5. Spread the Word: Share what you've learned and what you like! The more informed we all are, the harder it is for commodification to take root.

By staying vigilant and championing ethical, neurodivergent-affirming approaches, we can help build a world where neurodiversity is genuinely understood, celebrated, and supported, rather than just another product on the shelf.

If you’re looking for a space to reflect on your neurodivergent identity – outside of pathologising language, paid-for “fixes,” or trendy buzzwords – you might find our free Neurodivergent Me course helpful. There is no cost to access it and it is designed to support self-understanding and self-compassion.