Breaking the Narrative: How Parental Expectations Turn Neurodiversity and Gender Diversity Into “Problems”
The framing of neurodiversity and gender diversity as “global concerns” is both sensational and misleading, considering the relatively small populations these groups represent. Articles like the recent HealthDay report proclaiming autism as ‘a top youth health issue’ contribute to an atmosphere of undue panic. They amplify fears about neurodivergence and gender diversity that are often rooted in cultural anxiety rather than genuine health crises. This disproportionate focus diverts attention from far more pressing global concerns whilst perpetuating harmful stereotypes. In reality, neurodivergent and gender-diverse individuals are not inherently “problems” but are framed as such because they challenge societal and parental expectations. Nowhere is this framing more evident than in the disparity between children’s rights as articulated in the UN Convention on the Rights of the Child and the way those rights are undermined in the United States—a country that has conspicuously refused to ratify the treaty.
In the US, children’s autonomy is rarely prioritised. Instead, the dominant cultural narrative revolves around “parental rights,” rooted in the belief that children are essentially the property of their parents. This contrasts starkly with the principles of the UN Convention, which emphasises the inherent dignity and agency of every child. The tension becomes more pronounced when neurodivergent or gender-diverse children fail to meet parental expectations shaped by societal norms. For many parents, these expectations are less about their child’s well-being and more about their own identity and status as parents. The West’s hyper-individualism, where “my child” is seen as an extension of “myself,” paradoxically coexists with a rigid conformity to what “proper parenting” should look like. Parents are expected to raise successful, neurotypical, cisgender children who fulfil the roles society has prescribed for them—roles that include academic achievement, traditional family structures, and predictable milestones.
When children deviate from this path, as many neurodivergent and gender-diverse individuals do, it disrupts the narrative parents construct for themselves, their families, and their social standing. The result is a societal framing of these identities not as natural variations of human experience, but as obstacles to be corrected or controlled. Today’s article will build upon Sunday’s article and examine how societal norms, “Christian nationalism,” and the emphasis on “parental rights” reinforce this narrative—and propose simple, inclusive adjustments that could ease the burden on individuals forced to conform to a vision of parenthood that is neither universal nor equitable.
The Root of the Problem: Parental Expectations
For many parents, children are viewed not as autonomous individuals but as extensions of their own identity, shaped by societal expectations and personal aspirations. This begins with subtle practices like naming a first-born son “Junior,” a tradition laden with the implication that the child will carry forward not only the family name but the ambitions, values, and dreams of the parent. It continues with more pervasive markers of success: good grades, athletic achievements, and the ultimate milestone of independence marked by moving out at 18. These performative elements create a narrative in which the child’s accomplishments are a direct reflection of the parent’s worth, reinforcing the idea that raising a “successful,” “well-adjusted” child is the ultimate validation of one’s parenting.
But what happens when this narrative is disrupted? When a child is neurodivergent or gender-diverse, they may not fit into the predefined roles society or their parents expect of them. This is where the concept of “narrative loss” comes into play—a profound sense of grief not for the child themselves, but for the imagined future the parent had envisioned. The carefully constructed storyline of family dinners, university graduations, and grandchildren is suddenly replaced with uncertainty, and for many parents, this break in the cycle can feel like a personal failure. It’s not the child who is at fault but the societal framework that equates conformity with success and individuality with failure. When “Junior” forges a different path, the rupture can be deeply unsettling for parents conditioned to believe that their child’s choices are a reflection of their own.
Compounding this is the phenomenon of “accessory parenting,” where children become symbols of parental status and achievement. The pressure to have “perfect” children—children who embody social ideals of success, beauty, and intelligence—turns parenting into a competitive performance. In this dynamic, the child’s uniqueness is often sidelined in favour of the parent’s need to be validated by their peers, family, or community. This approach, where children are seen as vehicles for living out the unfulfilled dreams of their parents, is not only harmful but fundamentally dehumanising. It reduces children to objects of accomplishment rather than recognising their inherent worth as individuals, free to chart their own course. When neurodivergent or gender-diverse children resist these pressures, they expose the fragility of this model of parenting, revealing it as less about love and support and more about control and societal validation.
The Role of Christian Nationalism and Societal Norms
Christian nationalism, with its roots in patriarchal and heteronormative ideologies, perpetuates the belief that children are the property of their parents, expected to conform to a rigid set of ideals that uphold traditional family structures. Nowhere is this more evident than in the fetishised image of the “trad wife,” a performative archetype that glorifies submission to male authority, the sanctity of heterosexual marriage, and the idealised nuclear family. In this worldview, children become props in a carefully curated illusion, supporting the narrative that family life is orderly, controlled, and aligned with conservative Christian values. The reality of parenting, however, is far more complex. Raising diverse human beings in a loving and caring way requires flexibility, acceptance, and a willingness to relinquish control—traits that are often antithetical to the “trad wife” ideal.
Neurodivergence and gender diversity disrupt this narrative in profound ways, challenging the deeply ingrained expectation that children will grow into obedient replicas of their parents. For Christian nationalists, this resistance to conformity strikes at the heart of their worldview, which draws heavily from Calvinist doctrines of control and submission. Calvinism establishes a rigid hierarchical order, where submission to authority—whether to the father within the family or the church—is regarded as a moral imperative. In this worldview, individuality and difference are not celebrated but seen as rebellion, deviations from the divine plan that must be corrected or suppressed. Neurodivergent and gender-diverse individuals, simply by existing, challenge this hierarchy, refusing to conform to the strict boundaries of what is deemed acceptable behaviour or identity. Their presence defies a system that equates uniformity with moral virtue, exposing the fragility of an ideology built on control and conformity.
This framework of control finds its modern pseudoscientific counterpart in eugenics, a movement that can be seen as the secular application of Calvinist principles to biology and society. Eugenics emerged as an attempt to impose order on the perceived chaos of human diversity, using pseudo-science to categorise, rank, and eliminate those deemed “unfit.” At its core, eugenics mirrors Calvinism’s disdain for difference, treating deviations from the normative ideal—be it neurodivergence, gender diversity, or physical disability—as failures to be corrected or eradicated. It transforms theological ideas of sin and rebellion into biological and societal “flaws,” framing human worth through the lens of productivity, conformity, and adherence to an arbitrary standard of “fitness.”
The eugenics movement, as Edwin Black eloquently described in War Against the Weak, waged an insidious campaign to rid society of those considered inferior. Under the guise of “progress,” it sought to sanitise humanity by erasing difference, using sterilisation, institutionalisation, and even genocide as tools to enforce its vision of perfection. This war against the weak echoes Calvinist theology, where those who fail to conform to prescribed norms are seen as obstacles to the divine or social order. Neurodivergent and gender-diverse individuals, among others, were (and often still are) cast as threats to societal stability, not for anything they have done but for the mere fact of their existence.
In both Calvinism and eugenics, the underlying fear is the same: that difference represents a loss of control, a disruption of carefully constructed hierarchies that preserve power for a select few. The overlap between the theological and the pseudoscientific underscores the enduring power of these ideas, as they continue to shape narratives that marginalise and dehumanise those who do not fit the mould. This ideological lineage reveals a chilling truth: the fight against neurodivergence and gender diversity is not new, but part of a much longer history of suppressing difference in the name of order, purity, and control.
The perceived threat posed by neurodivergent and gender-diverse individuals has sparked what can only be described as a moral panic, with “trans panic” and “autism panic” emerging as tools for enforcing traditional family structures and societal control (if you want a very depressing and sad deep dive, ask ChatGPT about the links between Calvinism and the ‘witch trials’ in America and the UK). These panics are rooted not in evidence or necessity but in a reactionary fear of losing cultural dominance. They are the modern manifestations of the same ideological drive that powered both Calvinism and eugenics—a desperate effort to suppress difference and maintain a rigid, hierarchical order.
Trans individuals, in particular, have been cast as symbols of societal decay, their existence weaponised to rally conservative bases around issues of gender, morality, and family. The backlash against their visibility is not a response to any tangible harm but a projection of deep-seated anxieties about the erosion of patriarchal norms and binary understandings of identity. Similarly, autism is often framed as a crisis, but not because of the inherent traits of autistic individuals. Instead, the crisis is one of systemic failure—of a society unwilling to adapt to meet the needs of neurodivergent people. Yet, the dominant narrative shifts the focus away from these failures, placing the “burden” on families and communities instead of questioning the structures that create those burdens.
These “panics” are ideological tools, serving to reinforce a worldview that cannot tolerate diversity. They divert attention from meaningful discussions about inclusion, equity, and systemic reform, maintaining the illusion of a cohesive and controlled social order. The framing of neurodivergence and gender diversity as threats sustains a narrative where difference must be eradicated rather than understood and embraced. It recasts the basic human needs for acceptance, support, and autonomy as radical demands, positioning them as challenges to the very fabric of society.
This reactionary stance exposes the fragility of a worldview built on exclusion and control. Like eugenics, it is fundamentally incompatible with the diversity and complexity of the human experience. The persistence of these panics reveals not the strength of the ideologies behind them but their inability to adapt to a world that is richer and more varied than their rigid frameworks can accommodate. The backlash against neurodivergent and gender-diverse individuals is not a response to their existence but to the broader challenge they represent—a challenge to build a society that values difference rather than fearing it.
The Disproportionate Framing of Small Populations
The framing of neurodivergence and gender diversity as urgent societal crises becomes even more absurd when placed in context with the actual size of these populations. Trans individuals make up approximately 0.5–1% of the population, whilst autistic individuals are estimated to represent around 1–2%. Despite their small numbers, the attention these groups receive in political and cultural discourse far outweighs their demographic significance. This disproportionate focus is not a reflection of their actual “impact” on society but rather of the fears and anxieties they provoke in those who see their existence as a challenge to established norms.
These fears are often rooted in perception rather than reality. Surveys consistently show that the general public vastly overestimates the size of marginalised groups. For example, many Americans believe that LGBTQ+ individuals, including trans people, make up 20–25% of the population, far higher than the actual figure. Similar misperceptions exist about autism, with media portrayals often focusing on extreme cases that reinforce stereotypes rather than representing the full spectrum of autistic experience. These inflated perceptions create a false sense of urgency, fuelling the moral panics that dominate headlines and political debates.
The implications of this exaggerated framing are profound. By elevating neurodivergence and gender diversity to the level of societal crises (or, ugh, epidemics), these narratives divert attention from systemic issues that affect far larger portions of the population. Healthcare access, income inequality, climate change, and poverty are sidelined in favour of debates over bathrooms and “parental rights,” issues that are blown out of proportion to maintain the status quo. This focus not only marginalises neurodivergent and gender-diverse individuals but also ensures that meaningful progress on broader social challenges remains stalled.
Furthermore, this disproportionate attention frames trans and autistic people as threats rather than as individuals with unique perspectives and needs. The relentless focus on their supposed “impact” on society obscures their humanity and reduces them to symbols of cultural conflict. It positions their existence as a problem to be solved, rather than an opportunity to create a more inclusive and equitable world.
Ultimately, this framing serves those in power, distracting from their failure to address systemic inequities while scapegoating small, vulnerable populations. The reality is that trans and autistic individuals pose no threat to societal stability. The true challenge lies in confronting the systems that perpetuate inequality, fear, and exclusion. Recognising the exaggerated nature of these panics is a necessary step in refocusing attention on the real issues and building a society that values all its members, no matter how small their numbers.
Neurodiversity and Gender Diversity as ‘Disruptors’
Neurodivergent and gender-diverse individuals disrupt “societal norms” not merely by existing but by refusing to conform to traditional roles, unsettling deeply ingrained notions of order and identity. These disruptions strike at the core of Western societal comfort, which has its foundations in Calvinist ideology. Calvinism’s influence is not overt but deeply embedded in the cultural and systemic frameworks of the West, shaping everything from individual beliefs about morality and worth to the broader legal and social structures that govern society. Its emphasis on predestination, submission to authority, and the sanctity of a rigid social order creates a cultural baseline that views “deviation” as rebellion.
For trans and autistic individuals, autonomy and resistance to “societal norms” are not choices but necessities for survival. Their (our) very existence challenges the Calvinist-infused worldview where conformity is equated with virtue, and difference is seen as a threat. Trans individuals, for example, embody a direct contradiction to the binary, preordained roles that Calvinism sanctifies. Their realities undermine the belief that gender is fixed and divinely assigned, striking at the theological idea of predestination. Similarly, autistic individuals often reject the social scripts and hierarchical expectations imposed upon them, further challenging this rigid framework.
This “defiance” is deeply unsettling for those who cling to the Calvinist underpinnings of Western culture. For parents steeped in these values, the existence of a neurodivergent or gender-diverse child can feel like a personal affront, as though they are being punished by God for some moral failing. The belief in predestination and divine judgment fosters a sense of shame and failure, leading to a perception that their child’s difference is not just a deviation from societal norms but a rebellion against divine order itself. This interpretation compounds parental grief and shame, as they see their child’s divergence as a reflection of their own spiritual inadequacy.
These challenges to the status quo threaten the existing power structures that Calvinism has helped to build. The legal and social systems in the West, shaped by centuries of Calvinist influence, prioritise hierarchy and control. Calvinism’s legacy of moral rigidity and fear of disorder has informed everything from property laws to the structure of family courts, embedding a framework that resists change and enforces conformity. Trans and autistic individuals, by asserting their autonomy, expose the fragility of these structures, revealing them as tools of oppression rather than instruments of justice.
The backlash to this resistance is both cultural and legislative. “Moral panics” surrounding trans rights and autism are not just reactions to difference but calculated efforts to reassert control over a system that feels increasingly precarious. Laws targeting gender-affirming care or pushing for restrictive educational policies for autistic students reflect a desperate attempt to maintain order in the face of perceived chaos. These legislative attacks are not just about controlling individuals but about preserving a worldview where deviation is equated with “societal decay.”
Ultimately, neurodivergent and gender-diverse individuals expose the contradictions at the heart of the Calvinist-influenced West. Their (our) existence challenges the myth of a divinely ordered society, revealing it instead as a fragile construct dependent on the suppression of diversity. By refusing to conform, they illuminate the need for a society that values autonomy and complexity over control and uniformity, offering a vision of liberation that stands in stark contrast to the rigid frameworks of the past.
The Simplicity of the Adjustment
Creating a more inclusive society for neurodivergent and gender-diverse individuals does not require a monumental upheaval of the social order. The adjustments needed are relatively small, straightforward, and well within our collective capability. Sensory-friendly spaces, for example, would benefit not only autistic individuals but also people with anxiety, sensory processing issues, or even those simply overwhelmed by busy environments. Gender-neutral bathrooms, far from being radical (we all have them in our homes), are practical solutions that accommodate trans and nonbinary individuals whilst also providing convenience for parents with children or caregivers assisting someone of a different gender. Respecting pronouns is equally simple, a basic courtesy that requires little more than a willingness to listen and adapt language.
The irony is that these changes, whilst aimed at supporting marginalised groups, often improve conditions for everyone. Universal design principles—such as ramps for wheelchair users—are a testament to this. What begins as an accommodation for a specific group often proves to be a better design for society at large. Sensory-friendly spaces reduce stress for all, gender-neutral bathrooms offer flexibility for diverse needs, and respecting pronouns fosters an environment of mutual respect that benefits every interaction. These adjustments are not burdensome; they are opportunities to create a society that is kinder, more adaptable, and more equitable.
The backlash to these small and simple adjustments reveals that resistance is not rooted in the complexity of implementation but in the perceived loss of power and control. At its core, this resistance reflects a worldview deeply influenced by Calvinist notions of predestination, which reinforce rigid hierarchies and social stratification. In this framework, those at the top of the social order see their position as divinely ordained, and any effort to create equity or inclusivity is viewed as a challenge to “the natural order of things.” This belief system underpins both class structures and capitalism, creating a culture where accommodating marginalised groups is not just seen as unnecessary but as an affront to the very foundations of society.
For capitalists, this resistance is often framed in terms of cost. Efforts to do the right thing—whether it’s building sensory-friendly spaces, implementing gender-neutral bathrooms, or respecting pronouns—are dismissed as expensive, burdensome, or even unnecessary. These complaints conveniently ignore the broader societal benefits of inclusion, focusing instead on maintaining profits and preserving systems of exclusion. The Calvinist work ethic and its emphasis on individual responsibility over collective care are deeply intertwined with these capitalist priorities, creating a culture where difference is treated as a financial liability rather than a social opportunity.
The simplicity of these adjustments stands in stark contrast to the intensity of the opposition they provoke. It’s not the practicality of change that is at stake but the refusal of those in privileged positions to adapt to a world that no longer centres their experiences. Accommodating difference challenges the hierarchical systems of control that have long defined Western society, exposing their fragility and inflexibility. For some, this feels like a loss of cultural dominance or economic power, even though what is being asked is not dominance but coexistence.
This resistance reveals the real issue: a deep unwillingness to let go of systems that prioritise conformity and profit over justice and equity. By refusing to cede power or invest in inclusion, those in opposition reinforce the very structures of exclusion that marginalised groups are working to dismantle. What is needed is not just structural change but a profound shift in mindset—a rejection of the predestination narrative that justifies inequality and a recognition that diversity and equity are not costs to be minimised but essential investments in a just and thriving society.
The Problem with the "Global Concern" Narrative
The framing of autism and gender diversity as “global concerns” reflects a deliberate narrative that shifts blame onto individuals rather than addressing systemic inadequacies. By labelling these identities as crises, society avoids confronting the structures that create barriers and inequities, placing the burden of change on those least equipped to shoulder it. The language of crisis, as seen in articles proclaiming autism as a top youth health issue, exaggerates the challenges posed by neurodivergence and gender diversity, amplifying fears rather than fostering understanding. This framing positions these identities as problems to be solved, not by changing societal systems but by forcing individuals to conform to them.
This narrative serves as a tool of control, perpetuating the marginalisation of neurodivergent and gender-diverse individuals whilst preserving the status quo. It reinforces hierarchical systems of power that rely on conformity and the suppression of difference. By casting these identities as threats to societal stability, the narrative justifies interventions that prioritise compliance over autonomy, effectively policing the boundaries of acceptable behaviour and identity. This approach aligns with the deeply ingrained Calvinist underpinnings of Western society, where deviation from the norm is viewed not only as a personal failing but as a moral or even divine transgression.
In focusing on fixing individuals, this framing erases the real needs of neurodivergent and gender-diverse communities. It diverts attention away from systemic reforms that could create inclusive environments and instead centres efforts on making individuals “fit” into existing structures. The emphasis on early detection, therapy, or “normalisation” strategies reflects this bias, funnelling resources into interventions that aim to change the individual rather than the world they inhabit. For example, the push to “address the global health burden of autism” often prioritises “therapies” that enforce conformity whilst neglecting the systemic supports—like accessible healthcare, inclusive education, universal basic income, or workplace accommodations—that would enable autistic people to thrive on their terms.
This crisis framing does more than misrepresent reality; it actively harms those it purports to help. By positioning neurodivergence and gender diversity as problems, it undermines efforts to build a society that values difference and equity. What is needed is not a narrative of crisis but one of opportunity—an acknowledgment that diversity enriches communities and that systemic change is not a burden but a pathway to a more just and inclusive world. Until the focus shifts from fixing individuals to transforming systems, the “global concern” narrative will continue to fail those it claims to address.
Moving Beyond Parental Expectations
To move beyond the harmful dynamics of parental expectations, society must shift its narrative and begin to see children as autonomous beings, not as extensions or reflections of parental success. Children are not mirrors for their parents’ achievements, nor are they vessels for fulfilling unfulfilled ambitions. They are individuals with their own identities, needs, and desires. Recognising this autonomy is the first step in dismantling the toxic idea that a child’s value lies in their ability to conform to societal or parental ideals. This shift requires a fundamental reimagining of parenting—not as a performance of control and conformity but as a process of nurturing and support that respects the individuality of the child.
Breaking this cycle of rigid norms means rejecting the narrow definitions of what families and identities should look like. Diverse identities must be embraced as natural and valid, but more importantly, society must also accept the reality of diverse families. For many neurodivergent and gender-diverse individuals, the families they are born into are not safe or supportive spaces. Toxic dynamics, often rooted in parental shame, control, and resistance to difference, drive many to sever ties with their families as soon as they are able. These individuals build chosen families on their own terms, creating relationships based on mutual respect and understanding.
This move is not part of some supposed global conspiracy against the nuclear family, as detractors often claim. It is not driven by Marxism, communism, or any other straw man ideological construct. Instead, it is a necessary psychological defence—a way for marginalised individuals to establish healthy boundaries against toxic people and situations that threaten their well-being. The decision to go non-contact with family is rarely taken lightly, but it underscores the urgency of rejecting societal norms that prioritise parental authority over a child’s autonomy and safety.
Central to this transformation is the need to empower marginalised voices, particularly those of autistic and trans individuals. These voices must be at the forefront of policy and cultural conversations, shaping the narratives and decisions that affect their lives. When neurodivergent and gender-diverse individuals are given the space to articulate their experiences and advocate for their needs, the resulting policies and cultural shifts are more likely to reflect the realities of their lives.
Moving beyond parental expectations requires more than just systemic change—it demands a cultural reckoning. It calls for the rejection of outdated norms and the embrace of a world that values autonomy, diversity, and the humanity of every individual. By centring the voices of those most affected, we can begin to build a society that prioritises understanding over control and respect over conformity.
Final thoughts …
Neurodiversity and gender diversity are not problems, despite the framing of articles and studies that suggest otherwise. The real issue lies in societal and parental resistance to change, a stubborn refusal to adapt to a world that is richer and more varied than rigid norms allow. For those of us who live at the intersections of these identities, like myself as an autistic trans woman, the harm caused by these narratives is deeply personal. Each time another study or article lands in my inbox, it feels like a fresh reminder that society sees no place for me. The constant implication that my existence is a “problem” to be solved or a “burden” to be managed is exhausting, a relentless assault on the dignity and humanity of people like me. Today’s writing, this so-called rant, is a necessary act of processing these emotions—an attempt to push back against the harm and make sense of it in a world that often feels hostile.
The first step in addressing this issue is for all of us to challenge the fear-based narratives that perpetuate exclusion and control. We must move beyond the framing of difference as a crisis and recognise it as an opportunity for growth, understanding, and enrichment. Advocacy for inclusion is not just about policies or accommodations; it’s about dismantling the systems and mindsets that make marginalised individuals feel like they don’t belong. Supporting systemic adjustments—whether through accessible environments, respect for autonomy, or inclusive representation—requires effort, but it is far from impossible. These are the changes that create a world where everyone, regardless of their identity, can live authentically and without fear.
I want to leave you with a hopeful vision of what such a world might look like: a society where difference is celebrated, not feared; where autistic and trans individuals are not seen as threats but as valued members of a diverse community. Imagine a world where no one receives an email implying that their existence is a burden, but instead lives in a society that welcomes them wholeheartedly. This is not an unattainable dream—it is a reality we can create, if only we have the courage to see difference not as a problem but as an integral part of the human experience. Let today’s processing of harm be a step toward that better future, one where all of us have a place.