adhd

Labels and Definitions

If you ask me, the question of the day – or perhaps decade – is, why does everyone suddenly want a label? On the breakfast news this morning, the top story was the alarming rise in young people being diagnosed with conditions like Autism and ADHD. As I think I’ve mentioned before, people also seem to be far more eager to categorise themselves as being Autistic or having ADHD than they once were: I now seem to hear people declare “I’m autistic” almost daily. The term seems to be being thrown around more and more lightly, as though people are becoming more and more eager to highlight their perceived eccentricity or other-ness. It’s almost as if it has become essential to be seen as a member of a minority or subgroup, particularly on social media, and that not doing so groups you alongside the oppressors. If you ask me, something very, very strange is going on.

Perhaps the obvious initial question is what could be causing this abrupt rise. If this was any other medical condition, there would probably be talk of an epidemic in the air. But I don’t think the normal rules apply here. Prevalence levels for more ‘traditional’ conditions and disabilities seem to have remained fairly stable, whereas those for neurological conditions seem to have shot up. If autism was like any other condition, surely you would expect it to follow similar patterns. Rather, I really suspect the difference is the definitions of conditions like Autism and ADHD has been dramatically widened: it is no longer the severe, extremely debilitating condition I observed at school, but now encompasses a wide range of – previously fairly normal – behaviours.

The thing is I can’t help suspecting that there is some kind of political motivation behind this definitional change. People seem more and more eager to assign labels to themselves, to be seen as belonging to one subgroup or another. It’s not that I dispute that levels of ‘mental distress’ are rising; I think rather that we are becoming too eager to categorise such behaviours and feelings as specific conditions, rather than accepting them as part of everyday life. As the definitions of conditions like autism have become forcibly wider, they have become little more than a sociopolitical bandwagon people are becoming more and more eager to jump onto. Thus we hear people ‘outing’ themselves as autistic, dropping it into the conversation at any opportunity, like it is some kind of badge of honour or status symbol. In assigning themselves such labels though, using such terms so arbitrarily, they gradually strip them of any real meaning, and force us to forget that autism is in reality a highly debilitating condition often requiring a lot of support.

The Great ADHD Myth

To be honest, I saw a programme a couple of days ago on TV which I instantly knew I wanted to blog about, but the subject was so complex and controversial that I spent the whole of yesterday trying to decide what to say about it. The Great ADHD Myth is the kind of television which is always going to split opinions: my problem is, I know what I think about it, but I’m not sure I know enough about the subject to fully articulate and justify those opinions. Broadly speaking, the gist of the documentary is that Attention Deficit and Hyperactivity Disorder doesn’t really exist as a medical condition, but is just a vague list of symptoms which people are increasingly ascribing to children. I certainly agree: as far as I can make out, such kids don’t have any sort of neurological disorder, but were simply never taught to pay attention and stay focussed on what they need to do. It’s just a matter of childhood discipline. When I was little, my brothers and I were always taught that we needed to finish our schoolwork before we could go and play, or that we wouldn’t get any pudding unless we finished our main meal. These days, however, kids seem to be being allowed to get away with whatever they like; and when they start to play up, rather than being told to behave, their parents start to claim that they have a medical condition.

I probably sound like a grumpy old man for writing that. I know there will be people who resolutely disagree with it, and will be very angry that the programme was aired. To them, ADHD is very, very real, and to have it’s existence and validity contested will seem like a challenge to their identities. Indeed, according to this BBC article, ADHD UK has complained to Ofcom about the programme,  saying: “ADHD is not a myth. It is not a social construct.” Yet I think this speaks to something which is becoming increasingly obvious these days: people seem to be becoming increasingly eager to compartmentalise themselves, and categorise and pathologise behaviours which would previously be seen as perfectly normal as medical conditions. It’s as if being normal is no longer cool, so everybody is starting to claim to have a condition or disability. As someone who has had a clear-cut, unambiguous disability all his life, it’s frankly becoming increasingly insulting. I’m just glad to see that other people are starting to pick up on it.