Middle of the bell curve
Before I address the issue of the use of the term “divergent” versus “diverse” when referring to neurological traits, I’d like to first address an issue of statistics rather than semantics. When we talk about diversity, we are often dealing with the needs of a minority versus the dominance of a majority. Even in the area of gender, where the male/female split is roughly equal, there are plenty of gender identities that present as minorities.
It is for this reason, I think, that it is natural for people to think of neurodiversity in the same way. The conversation is always about the need for the neurotypical majority to make adjustments for neurodiverse minorities. If you were to draw a picture, it would probably involve a normal distribution something like this:

The picture is clear. In the centre, indicated by the grey arrow, we have the neurotypical people. To the left and right we have the neurodiverse. If you present the situation this way, you are communicating that the majority are neurotypical, and it makes sense that the world is centred on them. The neurodiverse form a range of minorities, so a world adapted to any one of them would disadvantage the very significant majority. This would be unsustainably inefficient.
Of course, you would still recognise that accommodations need to be made for the minorities in the interests of fairness and inclusion, but these are just adjustments to the core environment. Create a world that suits the majority, then adjust to include the minorities. Put this way, it seems a reasonable compromise.
It then makes sense to consider the central peak as “normal” and the edge cases as divergent. After all, they diverge from the norm. So what’s the issue with “divergent”?
Colour me sceptical
But what if the bell curve representation is misleading or just wrong?
If you take any one neurotype and compare prevalence to the population as a whole, the numbers will seem to back up this premise. The incidence of ADHD in the UK population is estimated to be between 4% and 5%. For autism the figure is just over 1%. Even allowing for the growth in diagnoses now that these conditions are more widely recognised, (and what is thought to be a vast underdiagnosis of autism in women and girls), these numbers still look like minorities.
However, I would suggest this is very much a matter of perspective. If you choose to identify specific recognised neurotypes via diagnosis whilst combining all those without an identified type into a single homogenous group, that group will inevitably look like a majority.
To explain my thinking here, I’m going to stop talking about human traits and talk instead about colours.
Imagine, if you will, a scenario in which we decide to identify the colours blue and red as edge cases and group all other colours together in the middle. What we now have is two divergent groups, the reds and the blues, and the majority of “normal” colours in the middle. Now, if I drew this as a bell curve, you’d instantly challenge me.
You’d probably suggest that colour isn’t a normal distribution, but is instead a spectrum of many equally represented colours. You would, no doubt, also argue that to suggest some colours are normal whilst others aren’t is a matter of biassed perspective rather than fact.
You’d be right to raise such a challenge, so the question is therefore, why do we accept the bell curve for neurotypes at face value?
The circle of life
It is for this reason that I’d like to ask you to consider another possibility. One that recognises that, neurologically, we’re far more diverse than a bell curve might suggest. All the colours of the rainbow, if you will. What if neurotypes are more like a colour wheel. Something like the picture below.

A population of people who could, if we wished, be classified into a range of equally sized groups, each representing a subtly different neurotype. Neighbouring groups are almost indistinguishable whilst those on opposite sides of the wheel exhibit very different behaviours and preferences.
This is a very different perspective. Suddenly there is no dominant majority setting the standard, and minorities to accommodate. Now what we have is a diverse population with a wide range of needs.
But that’s not what we experience so how can it be true? The majority do seem to cope perfectly well with the world as it is, and it’s only the minorities that seem to struggle. Those people then become viable for a diagnosis. They are considered to have a disorder that causes them to diverge from the norm.
The problem with this conclusion is that identifying something as a disorder can lead to a demand for cures, and divergence to a demand for convergence.
Blue is not a “divergent” colour. It’s just a colour, like all the rest. Equally valuable and equally represented.
The dominance hypothesis
This is where I’m going to introduce an idea I’ll call the “Dominance Hypothesis”. (Don’t bother googling it; it doesn’t exist. I just made it up).
Consider that neurotype wheel again for a moment and notice the big grey arrow. It’s pointing to “neurotypical” – the neurotype that the world is centred on. Why might it be centred on that type when it only represents 1 of the 18 types on the wheel? One possibility is that a core trait of that group is that they have the strongest need of all the groups to control the environment in which they live and the people with whom they interact. Add to that the possibility that they are also the best at doing exactly that. It is a strength of their neurotype. They quickly become the dominant group.
The nearest and next nearest neighbouring groups are similar enough to that group that they can, with a small amount of effort, adapt to the environment preferred by the first group. Meanwhile those at the opposite side of the circle are far less adept at controlling the environment, and are not as prone to dominance.
What starts to emerge is an upper half of the circle that, through societal pressure, starts to look more and more homogenous. (Much as gender stereotypes become the dominant pattern in many societies). Meanwhile, those at the bottom of the circle find themselves in an environment ill suited to their needs and talents.
We now have a situation that looks a lot more like the earlier bell curve. This doesn’t mean there is a majority of neurotypical people, and a minority of neurodivergent people. It just looks that way. What we have is a range of neurotypes making up a diverse population.
Finding the middle ground
So if we were to accept this alternative picture, what might we do about it? We can’t just swing the arrow round to a different group – someone will always end up on the wrong end of the model. For me, the answer is balance. The circle has a centre, equidistant from all groups. This centre represents an environment to which everyone is equally suited, and to which each group requires the same level of adaptation.
There are no majorities and minorities. No one is labelled as divergent.
This, for me, is key to creating an inclusive organisation, community or society. From such a starting point, it is possible to create an environment that achieves that central balance point. Not one based on the status quo with a few “accommodations” for those on the other side of the circle, but one based on the equal needs of everyone.
I have no expectations for society as a whole on this matter. The gulf between where it needs to be and where it is right now is huge.
This post has been a brain dump of random weekend thinking, prompted by some challenging and thought provoking conversations I’ve had with many different and diverse people. A rambling array of thoughts about what neurodiversity really means, and whether there is even such a thing as neurotypical.
Maybe it makes sense; maybe it doesn’t. Perhaps it’ll start a broader conversation? I hope so.
