How the Medical Model of Disability Harms Neurodivergent People
Bridgette Hamstead
For too long, the way we talk about disability has been shaped by a model that sees differences as problems to be fixed. This is known as the medical model of disability, and for neurodivergent people, it has done far more harm than good. The medical model defines disability as an individual flaw, something that needs treatment, intervention, or correction. It focuses on what a person cannot do rather than on what they can. It frames autism, ADHD, dyslexia, and other neurodivergent ways of being as deficits, disorders, and impairments rather than as natural variations in human thinking and behavior. When the world sees neurodivergence through a purely medical lens, it ignores the reality that many of our struggles are not caused by our brains but by a society that refuses to accommodate us.
When we operate within the medical model, the emphasis is placed on diagnosis, treatment, and normalizing behavior rather than on understanding, acceptance, and support. Many of us have been told from a young age that we need therapy to correct our “deficits,” that we must learn to mask our natural ways of communicating, and that success means becoming as indistinguishable from neurotypical people as possible. The medical model tells us that struggling in school is a sign that we need to work harder, that difficulty in social situations is something we should train ourselves out of, and that our sensory sensitivities are just personal quirks rather than valid needs. It does not ask whether schools, workplaces, and social structures could be changed to accommodate us. Instead, it asks us to change ourselves to fit into systems that were never designed for neurodivergent minds in the first place.
This framework has led to generations of neurodivergent people growing up feeling broken. We internalize the belief that our struggles are our fault, that if we could just try harder, be less different, push through discomfort, and overcome our limitations, we would finally be successful. The truth is that many of the barriers we face are not inevitable or inherent to being autistic, ADHD, or otherwise neurodivergent. They are created by a world that refuses to acknowledge that different kinds of minds exist. A student struggling in a noisy, overstimulating classroom does not need to be forced into hours of social skills training to learn how to tolerate it. They need quieter spaces, flexible learning options, and an understanding that their way of focusing and processing is just as valid as anyone else’s. An adult who cannot hold a traditional nine-to-five job due to executive functioning challenges is not incapable of work. They need flexible job structures, remote work opportunities, and systems that support different work styles. When we shift away from the medical model, we stop seeing neurodivergence as something that needs fixing and start recognizing that the world needs to change to include all of us.
The harm of the medical model is not just theoretical. It has real consequences for how neurodivergent people are treated in healthcare, education, workplaces, and everyday life. When neurodivergence is framed as a disorder, it becomes something that doctors, therapists, and educators try to correct rather than support. We see this in how many autistic children are placed in therapies designed to make them behave more like their neurotypical peers, even when those interventions cause distress and long-term harm. We see it in how ADHD adults are told that their struggles with focus and time management are personal failings rather than reflections of a world that does not accommodate their needs. We see it in how neurodivergent individuals are dismissed by medical professionals who do not believe our sensory sensitivities, pain tolerance differences, or atypical responses to medication are real. The medical model teaches the world to see us as problems to be solved rather than as people who deserve to be accepted and supported as we are.
There is another way. The social model of disability offers a framework that does not view neurodivergence as an inherent deficit but as a natural variation in human brains and experiences. Instead of assuming that we are disabled because of our traits, the social model recognizes that disability is created by barriers in society. We are not disabled because we communicate differently, process information in unique ways, or need certain accommodations. We are disabled because schools, workplaces, and communities are designed without us in mind. The problem is not that an autistic person struggles in a loud, bright grocery store. The problem is that grocery stores are designed in ways that overwhelm many people. The problem is not that an ADHD person cannot sit still for long meetings. The problem is that workplaces assume sitting still for long periods is the only valid way to work.
When we embrace the social model, we begin to see solutions that actually help neurodivergent people thrive. Instead of pushing autistic children into therapies that force eye contact and suppress stimming, we provide them with communication tools, sensory-friendly environments, and the freedom to be themselves. Instead of expecting ADHD adults to fit into rigid work schedules, we create job opportunities that allow for movement, flexible hours, and different ways of organizing tasks. Instead of framing neurodivergence as a medical issue that needs treatment, we recognize that neurodivergent people have always existed, that our ways of thinking and processing are valuable, and that the world needs to adapt to include us rather than force us to change.
For many of us, unlearning the messages of the medical model is a long and painful process. It is hard to undo years of being told that we are the problem, that our needs are burdens, and that success is only possible if we learn to hide who we are. But embracing the social model allows us to see that we were never broken. The world simply was not built for us, and that is something that can change. We deserve to exist as we are, without constantly being told that we need to be fixed. We deserve environments that allow us to thrive, workplaces that value our contributions, and communities that accept our differences as natural and meaningful.
Moving away from the medical model and toward the social model is not just about language. It is about shifting the way society understands and treats neurodivergent people. It is about recognizing that the barriers we face are not inevitable. They are choices that society has made about what kinds of minds and bodies it values. And those choices can be different. When we stop seeing neurodivergent people as needing to be "fixed" and start building systems that work for all kinds of minds, we create a world where neurodivergent individuals do not just survive. We thrive.
Creating a more inclusive world for neurodivergent individuals starts with shifting away from the medical model of disability and embracing the social model. Instead of viewing neurodivergence as something that needs treatment or correction, we need to focus on reducing barriers and making accommodations that allow neurodivergent people to thrive. This begins with recognizing that the problem is not in autistic or ADHD individuals themselves, but in the rigid structures that fail to support different ways of thinking, processing, and engaging with the world. By changing environments, policies, and attitudes, we can build a society that values neurodivergent people for who they are rather than forcing them to conform to neurotypical expectations.
One of the most important steps toward this shift is creating more accessible work environments. Employers should prioritize flexibility in schedules, communication methods, and workspaces. This includes allowing remote work options, providing quiet or sensory-friendly office spaces, and supporting different ways of processing information. Many neurodivergent individuals struggle with rigid nine-to-five schedules, long meetings, or open-office environments that are full of distractions. By offering alternative structures—such as shorter meetings, written communication options, and task-based rather than time-based productivity measures—workplaces can better support neurodivergent employees. Recognizing that productivity and engagement look different for different people can lead to more inclusive and effective work cultures.
Education systems also need to be restructured to support neurodivergent students rather than trying to force them into a neurotypical mold. Schools should provide flexible learning environments that consider sensory needs, executive functioning differences, and alternative communication styles. Instead of penalizing students for needing movement breaks, extended deadlines, or different testing formats, schools should embrace these supports as necessary for equal access to education. Teachers and administrators must be trained in neurodiversity-affirming approaches that focus on strengths rather than deficits. Standardized education models assume that all students learn the same way, but in reality, many neurodivergent students thrive with hands-on learning, visual supports, or self-paced coursework. Adjusting educational frameworks to be more inclusive will help neurodivergent students succeed without the pressure to mask their needs.
Medical and therapeutic spaces must also move away from deficit-based approaches that seek to "normalize" neurodivergent people. Autistic children should not be subjected to therapies that focus on suppressing natural behaviors, such as stimming or avoiding eye contact, just to appear more neurotypical. Instead, therapies should be affirming, focusing on supporting communication, self-regulation, and autonomy. Mental health providers should be educated on the unique ways neurodivergent individuals experience emotions, burnout, and trauma. Too often, autistic and ADHD individuals are misdiagnosed, dismissed, or subjected to therapies that do more harm than good. Medical professionals must listen to neurodivergent individuals rather than assuming that what works for neurotypical patients will work for them.
Public spaces and community infrastructure should be designed with neurodivergent needs in mind. Simple adjustments such as offering sensory-friendly shopping hours, reducing unnecessary noise and bright lights in public buildings, and providing clear, accessible signage can make a significant difference. Many aspects of daily life, from grocery stores to public transportation, are overwhelming for neurodivergent individuals due to sensory overstimulation and lack of predictability. Businesses and public institutions should actively seek input from neurodivergent individuals when designing spaces, ensuring that accessibility is not just an afterthought. Creating environments that consider different sensory and cognitive needs benefits everyone, not just neurodivergent people.
A major shift in social attitudes is also necessary. The way we talk about neurodivergence in media, policy, and everyday conversations matters. Moving away from pathologizing language—such as “disorder” and “deficit”—and toward affirming language that respects neurodivergent identities is a critical step. Representation of neurodivergent people in media should not rely on outdated stereotypes or portrayals of suffering but should instead highlight diverse experiences, including the strengths and joys of neurodivergent life. Awareness campaigns should be led by neurodivergent voices, ensuring that advocacy is not about "fixing" neurodivergence but about fostering acceptance and support.
Ultimately, embracing the social model of disability means recognizing that neurodivergent people are not broken or in need of correction. The world was simply not built with us in mind, but that can change. When we make workplaces, schools, medical care, public spaces, and social attitudes more inclusive, we create a society where neurodivergent individuals can thrive as their authentic selves. Shifting away from the medical model is not about ignoring challenges but about addressing them in a way that respects autonomy, dignity, and human diversity. By implementing these changes, we move toward a future where neurodivergent people are not just accommodated but truly valued.