Why Superpower misses the point

The “superpower” narrative around neurodivergence is hard to miss these days. From articles celebrating the creativity of ADHD to LinkedIn posts praising the “autistic edge” in tech, this framing is, well, everywhere. It’s empowering, yes, but also reductive. From a Jungian lens, it begs the question: why do we gravitate toward this narrative in the first place?

The answer, I think, lies in a cultural discomfort with complexity, and in our collective psyche’s need for clear, digestible explanations.

The Shadow of deficit narratives

To understand the appeal of the superpower narrative, we need to look at what it reacts against: decades (if not centuries) of deficit-based framings of neurodivergence. ADHD, autism, and other neurodivergent experiences have been pathologised, reduced to often medicalised lists of impairments and symptoms.

For many people, especially those directly impacted, this framing is painful. It positions neurodivergence as something to be fixed, something incompatible with success, happiness, or fulfilment.

The superpower narrative offers an antidote to this shame. It flips the script, positioning neurodivergence not as a weakness but as a strength. It allows people to feel proud, to push back against stigma, and to celebrate their uniqueness. In a society that prizes excellence and productivity, it gives neurodivergent people a way to feel worthy within those terms.

But here’s the catch: while it seems liberating, the superpower narrative is still reactive. It doesn’t transcend the deficit narrative, it remains locked in a binary with it.

Strength vs. weakness. Gift vs. impairment. It offers empowerment, but only on conditional terms.

The cultural drive for simplicity

From a Jungian perspective, the superpower narrative also reflects our collective psyche’s craving for simplicity. Neurodivergence is complex, messy, and deeply individual. It can be joyful and painful, liberating and limiting, often all at once.

This cultural preference for simplicity is also why the spectrum model of neurodivergence has started to lose favour. While the idea of a spectrum was originally helpful in showing the diversity of neurodivergent experiences, it has been flattened into oversimplified binaries like “high-functioning” versus “low-functioning.”

This one-dimensional thinking doesn’t account for the “spiky profiles” many neurodivergent people experience, strengths in some areas, struggles in others, often shifting depending on context. Neurodivergence isn’t a line to plot but a web (or an ultra colourful mosaic), dynamic and unique to each individual. Yet our culture often avoids this complexity, favouring archetypes like the “neurodivergent genius” or “superproductive ADHD creative.”

The problem? These archetypes are easy to market and celebrate, but they flatten human experience into symbols that don’t reflect the messy reality of living as a neurodivergent person.

The capitalist undertow

Another reason for the superpower narrative’s appeal is its compatibility with capitalist values (sorry!). Capitalism prizes productivity, innovation, and marketable skills. The superpower framing aligns perfectly with this mindset, celebrating neurodivergent people only insofar as their differences can be monetized or made useful.

It’s no coincidence that industries like tech and creative media are some of the biggest adopters of this narrative. They benefit from highlighting how “different brains” can drive innovation, while often overlooking the structural support neurodivergent individuals need to thrive.

This is where the narrative falls short. It says: You’re valuable if you’re a genius, if you can create something groundbreaking. But what about when you’re burnt out? Or when your “superpower” isn’t producing the results others expect?

Go deeper - Jungian lens

Jung would probably suggest that the superpower narrative reflects a collective defence mechanism. As a culture, we are deeply uncomfortable with the shadow side of neurodivergence: the struggles, vulnerabilities, and unmet needs. By focusing only on strengths, we avoid engaging with these more challenging truths.

But Jung taught us that ignoring the shadow doesn’t make it go away.

In fact, it often leads to disconnection and burnout. Individuation, the process of becoming whole, requires us to confront and integrate our shadow, not just the parts of ourselves we find acceptable.

So why?

We choose the superpower narrative because:

- It feels good. It allows us to push back against stigma in a way that feels affirming and celebratory.

- It’s socially acceptable. It aligns with cultural values around productivity, innovation, and individual achievement.

- It simplifies. It offers a clear, uplifting story in place of the messy, often contradictory realities of neurodivergence.

- It avoids discomfort. It lets us bypass the harder, more vulnerable conversations about struggle, need, and systemic barriers.

What’s the alternative?

From a Jungian perspective, the alternative is to embrace complexity.

Neurodivergence is not a single story, it’s a spectrum (or better, a mosaic) of experiences that includes strengths, struggles, and everything in between.

This means:

1. Acknowledging the shadow. Let’s create space for the parts of neurodivergence that aren’t “marketable” or easily celebrated. Struggle is part of the human experience—it doesn’t make you less worthy.

2. Challenging societal values. Productivity and excellence aren’t the only measures of worth. We need to expand the conversation to include rest, connection, and authenticity.

3. Telling nuanced stories. Instead of archetypes, let’s share diverse, honest accounts of what it’s like to live as a neurodivergent person.

From Winnicott and the “Good Enough” perspective

Instead of striving for perfection, or superhuman standards, we can celebrate being good enough. This means:

1. Honouring the everyday. Growth and resilience often come from small, consistent acts of care, like setting boundaries, practicing self-compassion, or simply showing up.

2. Letting go of comparison. Growth isn’t linear, and no two people’s paths look the same. “Good enough” allows for individual progress, free from the pressure of external expectations.

3. Reclaiming rest and struggle. Being good enough includes accepting moments of rest, burnout, or difficulty as natural parts of the human experience, not failures.

From humanistic and existential perspectives: valuing authenticity

Carl Rogers’ focus on unconditional positive regard reminds us that we are worthy of acceptance and love as we are, not for what we achieve.

This perspective asks us to:

1. Embrace vulnerability. Struggles and imperfections are part of what make us human and connect us to others.

2. Focus on meaning. Instead of aiming to “prove” neurodivergence through strengths, we can focus on what brings us personal meaning and fulfilment, regardless of external validation.

3. Reject binaries. Human experience isn’t black-and-white. Strengths and challenges often coexist, and both can be embraced as part of a full life.

The alternative to the superpower narrative isn’t about rejecting empowerment, it’s about making space for all parts of the neurodivergent experience. Whether through Jungian individuation, Winnicott’s “good enough,” or humanistic authenticity, we are reminded that real empowerment lies in complexity, nuance, and self-acceptance.

Neurodivergence doesn’t need to be flattened into a singular identity or story. It’s a mosaic, dynamic, messy, and deeply individual.