Reframing Inclusion: Why Students from the Neuro-Majority Need to Learn From, Not Just Alongside, Their Neurodivergent Peers

The conversation around inclusive education often skews in a problematic direction, positioning the neurodiverse and disabled students as the ones who need to adjust, adapt, or learn to fit into mainstream classrooms. This framework is deeply rooted in ableist assumptions that reflect a larger, neuro-majority bias, similar to those I’ve critiqued in my previous work. Much like the hierarchical dynamics seen in studies attempting to measure social behaviour through leadership and dominance, current inclusion models often reinforce the idea that neurodiverse students need to learn how to “keep up” with their peers from the neuro-majority rather than fostering genuine mutual learning. This is a fundamental misunderstanding of what inclusion should mean—and it’s one that neurodiverse, particularly autistic students, pay the price for every day.

The Myth of a One-Way Adjustment

As an autistic special education teacher who is also a Gestalt Language Processor (GLP), I see the impact of this misframing firsthand. The item (likely AI generated) that triggered today’s article claims that inclusion is beneficial because it reduces anxiety, fosters empathy, and helps neurodivergent students fit in better with their neuro-majority peers. However, this approach still centres the neuro-majority’s standards as the norm to which all students must aspire. The piece of AI generated propaganda completely glosses over the fact that neuro-majority students should also be taught to understand and adapt to the communication styles and social norms of their neurodivergent peers. In doing so, it reinforces a hierarchy that values neuro-majority ways of being as superior and demands that autistic students adjust to those standards.

This echoes the hierarchical leader-follower dynamics I critiqued in a recent study about social behaviour in autistic individuals. That study failed to recognise that many autistic people don’t adhere to traditional leadership and dominance structures in social interactions, preferring egalitarian, non-hierarchical communication. Similarly, inclusive education frameworks that push autistic students to adapt without requiring neurotypical students to reciprocate deny the value of autistic ways of interacting and communicating. Neuro-majority students are not being asked to learn from their autistic peers or to respect alternative modes of communication, such as Gestalt processing, which fundamentally affects how many autistic students navigate social and academic spaces.

Communication Differences and GLP Realities

Many autistic students, myself included, are GLPs. We process language holistically, often relying on chunks of language or scripts from prior experiences, rather than breaking it down analytically. This means we often communicate in ways that seem unconventional to neurotypical individuals, who process language linearly. For example, rather than focusing on word-by-word comprehension, GLPs understand language through patterns, memories, and sensory integration, which creates a far more nuanced, emotionally layered mode of communication.

The current approach to inclusive education does not account for this. Instead, neurodivergent students are expected to adapt to the majority’s modes of communication, whilst neuro-majority students receive little to no education on how to engage with or understand GLP styles. This failure to bridge the communication gap reflects a larger issue in how inclusion is conceptualised: it remains a one-way street, placing the burden of adjustment on neurodivergent students. Neuro-majority students aren’t taught to accommodate GLP modes of communication, which can lead to frustration and isolation for autistic students, who feel misunderstood and unsupported.

In a broader sense, this echoes what I’ve discussed about the “double empathy problem.” Research often frames communication breakdowns as being the result of deficits in autistic individuals, when in reality, the neuro-majority frequently fail to understand or engage with autistic communication styles. Inclusion should involve teaching neuro-majority students to respect and learn from these differences, rather than demanding conformity to neuro-majority norms.

Inclusive Education: A Two-Way Street

For inclusion to be meaningful, it must be a two-way process. Neuro-majority students need to learn not just alongside their autistic peers but from them. This means recognising that neurodiverse communication styles, like Gestalt processing, are valid and valuable. Students from the neuro-majority must be given the tools to understand these different ways of processing language and engaging socially. Without this, inclusion remains performative, a box to tick rather than a genuine effort to create a supportive learning environment for all students.

In my own classroom, I make a point of teaching all my students about different communication styles, including the challenges and strengths of being a GLP. When students are educated about how their peers communicate, they become more empathetic, not out of pity but from a place of respect and understanding. This approach shifts the focus from forcing neurodivergent students to conform to neuro-majority standards to encouraging all students to broaden their understanding of communication and interaction.

Reframing Empathy and Adaptation

Empathy in the context of inclusion cannot be about neuro-majority students feeling sorry for their autistic peers because they don’t fit in. It has to be about mutual understanding and adaptation. Neuro-majority students need to be taught that autistic communication and social interaction styles, including those influenced by alexithymia or hyper-empathy, are not deficits but differences. Alexithymia, for instance, a trait I’ve explored in depth in my own writing, affects how autistic individuals experience and express emotions. Neuro-majority students need to understand that when their autistic peers struggle to express emotions, it doesn’t mean they’re indifferent or unfeeling—it’s simply a different way of processing.

Likewise, autistic students shouldn’t be forced into emotional frameworks or leadership roles that feel uncomfortable or unnatural to them. Many autistic individuals prefer egalitarian interactions, and that’s something students from the neuro-majority should be encouraged to respect and adopt, not dismiss as inadequate. Again, the focus here should be on mutual adaptation, not a one-sided expectation of change.

A Call to Action: Real Inclusion

True inclusion means creating an environment where neurodivergent students don’t just feel tolerated—they feel valued. To do this, we need to move beyond the simplistic idea of reducing sensory overload or providing quiet spaces for autistic students, though these are important. Inclusion must involve teaching neuro-majority students how to respect, understand, and adapt to the diverse ways their neurodivergent peers communicate and process the world. This involves a fundamental shift in how we think about inclusion: not as a set of accommodations for autistic students but as a learning opportunity for everyone.

For educators, this requires professional development that goes beyond differentiated instruction and sensory-friendly classroom design. We need to teach teachers how to foster an environment of mutual respect, where neuro-majority and neurodivergent students are learning from each other. This means recognising and valuing autistic modes of communication, like Gestalt processing, and ensuring that all students are equipped to engage meaningfully with one another.

Inclusion is not about making autistic students fit into neurotypical classrooms; it’s about transforming classrooms so that all students can thrive. Only when we approach inclusion from this perspective will we create truly supportive, empathetic learning environments that respect the diversity of human experience.