Why we need neurodivergence
by a proudly autistic writer
I’m not a neuroscientist or a psychiatrist, so what I am about to hypothesize is not a scientific theory. But what I am is an autistic person, with chronic migraines, and also possibly ADHD. I am also a writer, a nanny, and a former minister with a Master of Divinity under her belt. And I am fifty-one years old and have spent those years in careful observation of people and systems, and in deep thought about them. I have never for one second been in danger of living an unexamined life.
And with those qualifications, I would like to propose a non-official definition of neurotypical and neurodivergent that is simply this: Neurotypical people can function well in dysfunctional systems, and neurodivergent people can’t.
Capitalism, I would argue, is a dysfunctional system. America today—its economy, its politics, its general philosophy of individualism and the pursuit of individual prosperity at the cost of communal thriving—is a dysfunctional system. White evangelical Christianity, in many ways, is a dysfunctional system. And there are people who are managing to do well in these systems and people who aren’t.
Of course, it is a generalization that the folks doing well are neurotypical and the folks who aren’t are neurodivergent. Many people have advantages of birth, connections, privilege, or simply good luck that allow for success, apart from the way their brains and nervous systems function. And of course there are some autistic people who have found jobs that suit their skill set. But I think that perhaps those are exceptions that prove the rule.
And if it’s not clear by now, I don’t think the neurodivergent folks are the problem. We are not dysfunctional. As J. Krishnamurti said, “It is no measure of health to be well-adjusted to a profoundly sick society.” On the contrary, I propose that we are not only the canaries in the coal mine, recognizing danger and toxicity before anyone else, but that we are the ones who can do something about it. We are the poets. We are the prophets. We are the ones who, bemused by everyone else’s pretending, say out loud, “The Emperor has no clothes.”
Don’t get me wrong, many of us would adapt if we could. I spent two decades trying to squeeze myself into an evangelical mold, trying to be a minister, a wife (thank God I never found a husband back then), a respectable member of the community. But because I was who I was, I could never fit in. I spent those same decades trying to be a good worker, trying to find a full-time job that wouldn’t overwhelm my nervous system. I didn’t just give up because of my noble beliefs. I gave up because I had no choice. I was unable to function in a dysfunctional system.
But it was exactly that inability to function, to fit in, that made me into a poet and a prophet. Not a predict-the-future kind of prophet, but the tell-the-truth kind. The world needs poets and prophets, and artists, and researchers passionate about their area of interest, and folks whose offering to the community is less specific, less easy to see or understand. In an ideal world, everyone’s gifts would be seen and encouraged, regardless of whether we could work full time or be “productive” members of society. How much insight, truth, and wisdom are we missing out on because we crush the visionaries under the heel of capitalism?
Walter Brueggemann said of the Old Testament poets-prophets, “They are making available a world that does not yet exist beyond their imagination.” Being neurodivergent in dysfunctional systems isn’t easy. But I don’t believe the answer is to “cure” neurodivergence. I don’t think it is a disease needing a cure at all. I think it is a treasure trove of imagination and insight that the world needs. I think you, my autistic friends, are the cure. You are what gives me hope that these systems can be named, that the Emperor can be called out and his empire dismantled. You are the signpost pointing to a better world where we all can thrive.
In love and hope,
Jessica