Are you sure you haven’t got ADHD, babe?” The question comes from a dear and well-meaning friend after I mention in passing how I swing between being hyper-focused and struggling to concentrate at work. I politely shrug and chirp, “don’t think so!”, while secretly wondering when and why it became perfectly acceptable to throw out armchair diagnoses to our mates – or, indeed, perfect strangers – based on the scantest of “symptoms”.
Aside from being just plain wrong – if I have Attention Deficit and Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) then I’d argue so does anyone who’s ever worked an office job or owned a smartphone – it’s kind of, well, rude, isn’t it? Not to mention utterly bizarre that the average layperson feels so comfortable flinging out medical labels. In the era of social media, it seems like everyone considers themselves an “expert” on neurodivergence – even when that “expertise” boils down to having listened to a podcast or watched a YouTube short about it one time.
The issue has come to the fore again due to actor Bella Ramsey’s revelation that they obtained their autism diagnosis while filming the first season of The Last of Us after a crew member spotted and flagged the signs. In Ramsey’s case, it was slightly different; the colleague in question genuinely had first-hand experience as their own child is neurodivergent.
But that’s a rarity these days. Most of the time, the person proffering their strident opinion on the complexities of the chemical makeup of your brain or the way it’s wired is completely unqualified to do so. The age of the armchair diagnosis is in full swing.
Social media has undoubtedly been a huge factor in your average Joe feeling entitled to pronounce the people in their lives “neurospicy”, thanks to the exponential growth in content surrounding ADHD and autism. Platforms like Instagram and TikTok, while initially great tools for shedding light on these conditions and destigmatising them, have recently been accused of peddling a huge amount of misinformation and convincing an increasing number of people to misdiagnose themselves and others.
One academic study published earlier this month suggested that social media content is “romanticising” ADHD, portraying it as a “cute” disorder and pathologising “normal everyday experiences” as symptoms – bog-standard things like having a messy bedroom, forgetting where your keys are or procrastinating at work. After analysing the 100 most popular ADHD videos on TikTok, psychologists from the University of British Columbia in Canada found that fewer than half the claims about symptoms were “robust” or accurately reflected clinical guidelines and classed two-thirds of the ADHD-related statements as “normal human experiences”. Perhaps unsurprisingly, young adults who watched loads of ADHD content were far more likely to have overestimated the prevalence and severity of “symptoms” in the general population.
Experts have identified a similar trend when it comes to #autism content online. One analysis of TikTok autism spectrum disorder (ASD) videos published in the science journal Drugs, Addictions and Health in December 2024 revealed that of 100 TikTok videos tagged with “autism spectrum disorder”, 24 per cent were classed as useful compared to the 40 per cent that were deemed “misleading”. Most clips (86 per cent) weren’t posted by healthcare professionals.
Crucially, the study broke down whether videos were about the symptoms/diagnosis of ASD; overall information about the condition; causes of ASD; or advice on managing the disorder. The vast majority (62 per cent) of content concerned itself with symptoms and diagnosis. Is it any wonder, then, that so many social media users suddenly start seeing neurodivergence everywhere they look?
While some people are content to diagnose themselves or their friends – whether erroneously or not – based on online findings, many are seeking to make it official. There has been a huge surge in the number of patients in the UK who have requested an autism assessment, growing 22 per cent year on year to hit 200,000 in August 2024. With demand more than 10 times higher than it was in 2019, a massive backlog has built up – 90 per cent of referrals are waiting longer than the recommended 13 weeks for assessment, according to NHS data.
It’s an even worse state of affairs for young people, with a 350 per cent rise in children waiting for an autism assessment since the height of the Covid pandemic. Waiting times exceed two years; Child and Adolescent Mental Health Services (CAMHS) are completely overwhelmed. Up to 80 per cent of child mental health referrals to the latter are now autism-related in parts of the UK. A friend tells me about her autistic nephew who cannot find a local secondary school able to accommodate his additional needs. Diagnosis is only the first step; what’s the point of attaching a label to someone if there’s no resource or help available on the other side of it?
Some experts have raised the issue of potential misdiagnosis due to increased awareness of these disorders, while others have argued that, if more of us actually are neurodivergent, shouldn’t research be focused on helping autistic people lead happier, healthier lives? “We are currently very focused on making a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ distinction in terms of diagnoses,” as William Mandy, a professor of neurodevelopmental conditions at University College London, told The Guardian. “But why not say, ‘Somebody has these traits. How might that be affecting their life and what we can do to help?’”
Whatever the reason, armchair diagnosis probably isn’t the answer. So next time you go to brand your neighbour with ASD because they’re “a bit of a perfectionist”, or your colleague with ADD because they’re always 10 minutes late, it might be time to stop and reconsider whether you might be the real problem.
