Superpower? The Evidence

Dyslexia. ADHD. Autism. These are the big 3 different ways of thinking that don’t always fit neatly into the systems we’ve built in our society. For some, these labels explain a lifetime of friction. For others, they describe the very traits that drive how they operate, lead and/or create.

Welcome to episode 2 of my trilogy about Different Minds. Better Systems. 

Last week I looked at how modern systems have come to define ‘ability’ in a way that we might wish to question. 

This week… 

Is this a Superpower? 

Let’s look at the evidence.

Different Minds, Better Systems - Episode 2

Calling this a superpower is perhaps a swing too far the other way. Sometimes it almost feels like one. But not always. 

In the wrong environment, it can be frustrating, limiting, even painful. 

In the right one, it becomes a genuine edge. 

Perhaps the truth is more grounded. Neurodivergence is not a superpower in itself but a different configuration of strengths and weaknesses. Like with any configuration, its value depends on where and how we apply it. 

A different lens

Rory Sutherland puts many things well. He describes neurodivergence as a feature, not a bug. 

From an evolutionary perspective, that makes sense. If you have a group of 150 people, it is not optimal for all of them to think the same way. Homophily, or ‘echo chamber thinking’ to you and I, isn’t great. You really want variation. 

• Some who follow process 

• Some who challenge it 

• Some who see patterns 

• Some who focus on detail 

Diversity of thinking is not a social ideal. It is a survival mechanism. 

Interestingly, we find a percentage of divergent behaviour in hives of bees. A small amount act as scouts. They explore and take risks. And it is just 5% of the cells in caterpillars that are the catalyst that drives metamorphosis. 

Those who sit outside the “typical” range often contribute disproportionately.

The evidence hiding in plain sight

Of course we see it everywhere, both now and throughout history. 

It is widely suggested that Leonardo da Vinci was likely to have been dyslexic. His habit of writing in mirror script is often cited. My son did the same in primary school. He scored zero on spelling tests despite spelling every word correctly. He just wrote them in reverse. 

On a related note, my eldest son competed in VEX at school (a robot design and build system), and at a national competition in Birmingham his team realised they had built their robot buggy with the steering in reverse. Felix was the only one who could drive it, and for him it seemed to make no difference. 

If neurodivergent people contribute a disproportionate amount to society, who are we talking about? 

In business:

• Richard Branson – dyslexia 

• Steve Jobs – dyslexia 

• Elon Musk – autism 

• Bill Gates – dyslexia and ADHD 

In science and the arts:

• Albert Einstein – dyslexia, ADHD, autism 

• Alan Turing – autism 

• Agatha Christie – dyslexia 

Across sport, music, and creativity:

• Simone Biles – ADHD 

• Emma Watson – ADHD  

• Tim Burton – autism 

Some of the above lived before these things were understood. Emma Watson’s condition was diagnosed. Albert Einstein’s were not. But I think the term ‘Out there’ describes people for a reason. They often sit outside if ‘typical’. 

Don’t we see it because we look for it and want to find it? As an example of this possible cognitive bias, take David Bowie. Ask anyone across the neurodivergent spectrum and almost without exception they will recognise something of themselves in Bowie. The creativity. The reinvention. The refusal to sit neatly in one box. Bowie was never diagnosed. Do we all just want to be Bowie? Or is it simply that he represents what happens when difference is allowed to express itself fully? 

The risk we’re running

There is a danger in how we frame this. If we over-medicalise difference, we risk the world misunderstanding it or overcompensating.

There are cases where support is essential. I know teenagers who benefit massively from medical support. We can take a famous case like Emma Watson. Diagnosed with ADHD as a child, Emma takes medication every day to handle her symptoms. An Oxford University grad, she has won multiple awards for her acting work and is an advisor on G7 foreign policy. Medication appears to have helped in this case. 

But handing out medicine to children can be a slippery slope, particularly in our modern world where victimhood can run rife and pressure to accommodate can become disproportionate. I noted last week that my son benefited hugely from support but that did not include medication. 

Some people face very real challenges in functioning within current systems. But not all variation is pathology. Much of it is simply misalignment with the environment. And when the environment changes, so does the narrative. 

This is perhaps less of a philosophical debate and more of a practical one. 

Next week I’ll look at getting the best from neurodivergent people.

Right now, we are led to a pertinent question: 

The question

As a business owner, instead of asking: 

“Is this a disability?”

A more useful question might be:

“What kind of system rewards different ways of thinking?”

In the wrong system, difference feels like friction.In the right one, it becomes leverage.

For most of human history, nobody cared how quickly you could process written words. They cared whether you could: 

• Read a situation

• Make a decision

• Navigate uncertainty

• Create something of value

Those things still matter. Possibly more than ever. The goal is not to force every mind into the same mould but to build environments where different kinds of thinking can do their best work. Because if neurodivergence is a feature, not a bug, then the real issue is not the individual. It’s the system they’re being asked to operate in.

Next week we will look at where different minds do their best work.