The Capitalist Fantasy of the Neurodivergent "Superpower"
Can we please stop calling ADHD a superpower?
In recent years, social media and corporate diversity campaigns have undergone a massive shift in how they talk about neurodivergence. We went from completely pathologizing mental variations to heavily romanticizing them. Today, the online narrative is saturated with toxic positivity: ADHD is rebranded as a secret weapon, dyslexia is celebrated as an exclusive leadership trait, and hyper-focus is marketed as an edgy productivity hack that companies should rush to exploit.
While shifting away from the old medical model of "disorders" is necessary, this new romanticization has created a different kind of trap. It turns neurodivergence into a capitalist fantasy.
This narrative suggests that your neurodivergence is only valid if it can be repackaged into something profitable. It tells companies: "Hire an ADHD mind because they will hyper-focus on your data for ten hours straight!" But it conveniently leaves out the dark, exhausting cost of that hyper-focus.
It ignores the crushing paralysis of executive dysfunction, where your brain literally refuses to initiate a simple, everyday task. It ignores the terrifying weight of rejection sensitive dysphoria (RSD), the chronic insomnia, the sensory overloads that make a trip to the supermarket feel physically painful, and the deep valleys of depression that follow a cognitive crash.
ADHD is not a quirky corporate asset. It is a daily, often destabilizing struggle with your own nervous system.
When we label a complex cognitive variation as a "superpower," we do a massive disservice to the people living with it - and I'm one of them. We create a new standard to live up to. Suddenly, if you are neurodivergent and you are not a hyper-productive, ultra-creative genius every day—if you are just struggling to answer an email or keep your room clean—you feel like you are failing at being neurodivergent, too.
We don't need our daily exhaustion to be romanticized so it looks pretty on a corporate presentation slide. We don't need to be called superheroes just to have our basic human needs respected.
What we need is honest accommodation. We need spaces that recognize both the brilliance and the burden. We need a world that understands that our value as human beings is not tied to how effectively we can turn our struggles into a high-performance engine.
