As we strive for greater equity in society, we can't shy away from difficult conversations about ableism and capitalism.

Disclaimer: The following article was written using identity-first language by a neurodivergent, disabled, queer woman of color, who is also the mother of a neurodivergent, disabled child. The opinions expressed herein may reflect those of Fuckup Inc. as an organization.
April is Autism Awareness Month. We’ve touched on this topic before, but we thought it deserved a closer look. As we work toward greater equity in society, we can’t shy away from difficult conversations.
As we continue to make progress in promoting psychological safety, diversity, and inclusion, it is crucial that we also address the ways in which this system affects those of us who “don’t look disabled.”
Capitalism, as an economic system, revolves around the accumulation of resources for profit. While it has contributed to the development of the Global North, it is no secret that this system also perpetuates a myriad of social injustices across the globe.
From subtle microaggressions to glaring disparities in access to resources, ableism has long been an insidious force in our society.
In this blog post, we invite you to explore the impact of capitalism and ableism on neurodivergent individuals.
Ableism is a system of oppression that targets people with disabilities. It can manifest in many ways, including physical barriers, prejudiced attitudes, and exclusion from all aspects of society. Ableism often intersects with other systems of oppression, such as racism, sexism, and classism, making it a complex and pervasive issue that demands attention and action.
Neurodiversity is a term coined in 1996 by Judy Singer, an autistic sociologist. This paradigm challenges the traditional notion of "normal" versus "abnormal" when it comes to human cognition. The Neurodiversity Paradigm argues that neurological differences should be viewed in the same light as any other type of diversity, with each individual's unique cognitive profile contributing to the overall richness of the human experience.
Neurodivergent individuals are those whose brains function differently than most people’s. We’re talking about people diagnosed with ADHD, autism, OCD, PTSD, depression, borderline personality disorder, dissociative identity disorder, bipolar disorder, and so on. Some people argue that a mental illness isn’t the same as a neurotype, but the point here is that all those brains function differently, and all those groups of people need support and accommodations.
By recognizing the value of these differences, society can move away from a deficit-based approach and toward one that celebrates the strengths and potential of all people, regardless of their neurotype or mental illness.
Capitalism's focus on profit can lead to a prioritization of cost-cutting over accessibility and inclusion. For example, businesses and school systems choose not to invest in any kind of training on this topic or in providing accommodations for those who need them, as decision-makers view these expenses as a drain on their profits or resources. Spoiler alert: they’re not.
The beauty of accommodations is that they make things accessible to everyone, regardless of their neurotype. A prime example: people who can walk can use ramps too. Ramps are an accommodation—an adjustment based on universal design—which means everyone can use them.
The capitalist emphasis on competition and productivity creates a hostile environment for neurodivergent people, who may viewed as "less capable" or "less valuable" to a company because we do not work in the same way as the perceived majority.
We all have different ways of approaching tasks, and some of us need everything in writing. Some of us struggle with public speaking or even turning on our cameras during a meeting. Some of us can’t work for 8 hours straight and need to take several breaks.
This results in discrimination and a lack of accommodations not only during the hiring process but across daily operations. It’s not that we are inherently less capable; we simply do things differently.
The pursuit of profit can also contribute to a lack of representation of neurodiverse people in the media, as actors and models with disabilities are often seen as less marketable. This perpetuates harmful stereotypes and reinforces ableism in society.
It’s also important to note: it doesn’t matter how many neurodivergent actors play neurodivergent roles on TV and in films if there isn’t a redistribution of resources in the education and healthcare/social security systems. That’s where real representation is needed.
The main characters we see are straight white male geniuses like Sheldon from *The Big Bang Theory*, Sam from *Atypical*, or Shaun from *The Good Doctor*. Yes, there are some women too (Beth from *The Queen’s Gambit*, Woo from *Extraordinary Attorney Woo*), but let’s face it, they’re geniuses too.
Food for thought: Some neurodivergent people don’t consider themselves disabled, some will need a calculator their whole lives, many aren’t interested in chess at all, and some can’t even remember to drink water every day . There’s diversity within diversity.
The lack of interest in this topic among non-disabled people leads to misinformation and fear. This is an extremely difficult conversation, and it seems easier to oversimplify things we don’t really understand.
Stereotypes are harmful, even when they’re well-intentioned. For example, when people say,“All autistic people are mathematical geniuses who aren’t interested in sex,”or“People with ADHD make terrible romantic partners but are great at creating music or other art forms,” or“You must be high-functioning, so you don’t need help—stop taking resources away from people who actually need them.”
On that note: labels based on functioning levels are harmful, as they strip neurodivergent individuals of their autonomy. If someone is deemed “low-functioning,” people and legal systems assume they are incapable of making decisions about their own lives. If someone is considered “high-functioning,” health care and school systems deny them the right to receive care and accommodations.
These labels will never fully capture the scope of a neurodivergent person’s support needs. Every neurotype (autism, ADHD, dyslexia, OCD, etc.) exists on a spectrum, and support needs change constantly—even within a single day—for the same individual.
This means using neurodivergent individuals to make non-disabled people feel better about themselves, even when that’s not their intention.Inspirational porn reduces neurodivergent people’s lived experience to nothing but suffering.
Think about all the fundraisers that include pictures and videos of neurodivergent children or non-speaking adults without their fully informed consent:“John achieved such-and-such DESPITE having autism”and“Leila was able to do this-and-that DESPITE having ADHD”.(By the way, parents aren’t entitled to profit from their child’s image without their consent, even if it’s for “a good cause.” But that’s a different conversation about adultcentrism, and we’ll cover that in a couple of months—stay tuned).
Non-disabled people donate a dollar and feel better about themselves, but they don’t actually start socializing with neurodivergent or disabled people because that’s not the goal of inspirational p*rn. Altruism means helping people who need it in the way THEY ask us to. Charity is helping in the way WE think they need it.
Have you ever laughed at or dismissed someone who says they can’t handle certain things like sounds, textures, flavors, smells, and lights? Have you ever dismissed someone’s experience and said, “It’s not that bad—there are worse things in life”?
Maybe you called someone a “weirdo” because they have a hard time socializing or seem not to understand the unwritten rules of human interaction that are “obvious” to you. Perhaps your teachers thought a classmate of yours was being annoying or provocative for asking a lot of questions about a subject that everyone else seemed to understand.
Yes, we’ve all acted like jerks at least once in our lives. Let’s not dwell on our shame; instead, let’s try to be compassionate toward other people’s lived experiences from now on. You never know when a neurodivergent person might be right next to you, so be someone they can feel safe with. The world needs more people like that.
This is a hard pill to swallow, but our intentions, however well-meaning they may , will never be more important than the impact of our actions. Yes, most people are unaware of ableism, and it’s not their fault. However, the systemic consequences of our collective actions—or lack thereof—are undeniable.
We don’t have a one-size-fits-all solution for ableism—nobody does. Collective liberation requires us to hold ourselves accountable. It requires us to reject individualism and punitive justice. It requires us to choose compassion—or just basic human decency—and restorative justice instead.
As someone said on Twitter: I want to live in a world where people who learn about harm done to others care more about putting an end to it than proving they aren’t the ones causing it.
We need to cry together, think together, laugh together, and work together to find solutions, even if we won’t see the end result in our lifetime. My hope lies in the beauty of neurodiversity: we have an infinite number of minds to figure out how to improve this society.
Edited by
Shanti Banus
Let’s change the way we view failure and use it as a catalyst for growth.