When ‘Neuro-Affirming’ becomes Neuro-Washing

Somewhere along the way, ‘neurodiversity-affirming’ became a buzzword. Ten years ago, we got bullied for using the term ‘neurodivergence’. They said it was a made-up word. They said it erased the ‘real’ ‘people with autism’. Thankfully now that’s no longer the case and there is much greater understanding about neurodiversity and neurodivergence. But now, everywhere you look, everything is ‘neurodiversity-affirming’ and it’s making my spidey senses tingle.

It started as a powerful call rooted in lived experience, forged through hard conversations, grassroots advocacy, and community care. It came from those of us on the margins, naming what we needed to survive. It meant support that didn't pathologise, didn't try to fix us, and didn’t measure our worth in proximity to neurotypical norms.

But now the term is showing up on glossy websites, in corporate wellness packages, on therapy directory bios and in school brochures. It’s printed across merchandise and splashed across social media posts by people who’ve never had to control their shaking in a meeting, never spiralled after a sensory overload and never had to translate their very being into something palatable to be allowed in the room.

It’s performative. It’s branding. It’s neuro-washing.

This is not new. Capitalism has a long tradition of commodifying what it can’t control. When language from the margins becomes legible to the mainstream, the machinery kicks in. The radical gets softened. The nuance gets stripped. The resistance gets buried under taglines and product lines. We’ve seen it before.

Environmental movements brought us powerful concepts like sustainability and eco-friendly. Then came the greenwashing. Suddenly, mega-corporations that pollute entire ecosystems were slapping ‘planet-safe’ on their plastic packaging. ‘100% biodegradable’ started appearing on items that would outlast a human lifespan. Entire marketing campaigns were built on the illusion of care for the planet, while behind the scenes, nothing changed.

The disability justice movement gave us ‘inclusion’ and ‘accessibility’. Soon after, it became common to see those words on event invites that had no captioning, no ramp and no remote attendance option. ‘Inclusive’ started meaning ‘we won’t actively reject you,’ rather than ‘we redesigned the space with you in mind.’

And now we’re watching the same thing happen with neurodiversity.

What Neuro-Washing Looks Like

A clinic claims to be neurodiversity-affirming. Their intake forms ask you to list your ‘deficits’. Their sessions are still based in compliance-based models. Their ‘strategies’ include behaviour charts and compliance-based rewards. ABA in all but name. You leave feeling like you’re the problem for struggling in a world that won’t bend.

A workplace announces their neurodivergent staff support policy. They share a photo of a rainbow-brain graphic on LinkedIn. But when a staff member asks for a change in communication style or a quiet place to decompress, they’re told it’s ‘not feasible at this time’.

An educator markets their program as inclusive of ‘all learning styles’. But the classroom rewards students who sit still, respond immediately, and don’t ask ‘why? more than once.

This is not affirmation. This is appropriation.

These services capitalise on our language while maintaining the very structures that harm us. They slap ‘neurodiversity-affirming’ on top of practices that are anything but affirming. And in doing so, they muddy the waters.

The cost of the co-option

It’s now harder than ever to find providers, workplaces, educators, or therapists who actually walk the talk. Because everyone is using the same words. And when everything is ‘neurodiversity-affirming’, nothing is.

People seeking support are left to sift through the noise. They pour energy into decoding what a provider really means. They book an appointment and show up hopeful. And then they find themselves in the same old frameworks. Perform, suppress, assimilate. It’s exhausting and it’s dangerous.

When we lose trust in the words that were built to protect us, we lose pathways to safety.

Reclaiming the term.

This isn’t a call to abandon the language. It’s a call to defend it. It’s a call to those of us doing neurodivergent-led, values-rooted, community-informed work, to hold the line. We’re going to need to define ‘neurodiversity-affirming’ again and again, out loud, in public, in plain language.

It means not punishing people for being ‘different’.
It means adapting systems to people, not forcing people to adapt to systems.                      It means ditching deficit language.
It means honouring autonomy, not extinguishing behaviours.
It means centring lived experience.
It means knowing that what helps one, may harm another, and adjusting accordingly.

We need to be specific and unapologetic. We need to be transparent about our practices, our frameworks, and our values. And we need to keep naming what is not neurodiversity-affirming, even when it’s wrapped in a rainbow.

How we fight back

Ask questions
Push past the branding. Ask providers what their training includes. Ask them how they implement ‘neuro-affirming’ in practice. Ask how they define success. If they can’t answer clearly or defensively pivot, that tells you what you need to know.

Name the harm
Speak up when you see neuro-washing. Write reviews. Start conversations. Be the person who says, ‘this is not it.’

Lift up the ones getting it right
Share the work of people doing it right. The lived experience-led spaces. The educators and therapists and consultants who don’t just say it, but show it too.

Educate and organise
Run workshops. Offer guidance. Teach others how to spot the difference. Build networks of accountability and support.

Keep creating
Keep writing, speaking, teaching, building spaces that don’t just affirm neurodivergence but are grounded in it. Keep imagining futures where authenticity isn’t penalised.

Let’s not lose this

The fact that ‘neurodiversity-affirming’ even exists as a term in the public sphere is a sign that our collective voices have made an impact. But words can be stolen and twisted until they no longer serve the purposes of those that created them. We shouldn’t let this term slip away. It deserves our protection. That means holding each other accountable for how we use it and demanding that it is rooted deeply in community, in action, and in truth. That’s how we make it ours to the core.

‘Neurodiversity-affirming’ shouldn’t be a marketing strategy. It should be a responsibility.

If you’ve been burned by services that said one thing and delivered another, you’re not alone. If you’re struggling to know who to trust, you’re not failing. There’s so much noise around this term that it’s hard to know what it even means anymore.

My number one tip to cut through all the noise is to suss out what neurodivergent people themselves are saying about a service or organisation that uses the term ‘neurodiversity-affirming’. Have they had good experiences there? Or is it a case of ‘same old’ but with a new shiny wrapper?

At The Neurodivergent Social Worker, I offer support that isn’t built on a tagline. It’s built on solidarity and disability justice. I’m not here to brand neurodivergence. I’m here to build something that lasts.

Let’s call out the co-option of this term and let’s keep the foundation of neurodiversity-affirming care exactly where it belongs. In the hands of those who live it.