Neurodiversity — conditions such as autism and ADHD — is not rare or fringe. In fact, it is increasingly widespread. According to the Australian Bureau of Statistics (ABS), in 2022 there were 290,900 Australians diagnosed with autism (about 1.1% of the population), a 41.8% increase from 2018. The rise is most pronounced among younger people: autism prevalence is higher for people under 25 years (3.1%) than those over 25.

On top of autism, neurodevelopmental conditions such as Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD) remain common in Australia. According to research from the Murdoch Children’s Research Institute, “almost 800,000 Australians including about one in 20 children have ADHD” — “about one child in every classroom.” Other sources estimate that 6–10% of children in Australia are affected.

Given these prevalence figures, it is unreasonable to treat neurodiversity as marginal. Rather, many thousands of children and adolescents — across primary and secondary school — are living with autism, ADHD, or both.

Yet for many of those children, the school system is failing them, with ripple effects for adulthood: limited access to higher education, reduced employment opportunities, increased mental health issues, and lower quality of life.

Far Too Few Neurodiverse Students Reach University — or Meaningful Employment

The data on education attainment and employment for neurodiverse Australians tells a troubling story. According to the ABS, among autistic people aged 15 and older who live in households: only 5.2% had completed a bachelor degree or higher, despite 45.1% having completed Year 12.

Meanwhile, unemployment among autistic people remains shockingly high: one frequently cited figure puts the unemployment at 34.1%, roughly three times the rate for people with other disabilities, and nearly eight times that for people without disability.

Even for those who are employed, many face restrictions: among working-age autistic adults, common employment restrictions include limited type of job, needing time off, reduced hours, need for supervision or assistance.

These statistics reflect a systemic failure. For a segment of the population that is not small — and includes many capable, intelligent people — the pathway to education, employment and independence is being blocked not by inherent inability, but by structural neglect.

Underfunded Promises: When Governments Pledge but Don’t Deliver

Part of the problem lies in policy and funding. Over recent years, as the number of neurodiverse students in schools has surged, the promise of support has often lagged behind the need.

One indicator: according to media reporting, the number of Australian school students needing extra support because of a disability is now nearly one in four enrolments — almost a million students. Social and emotional disability categories (which include autism, ADHD, behavioural disorders) have grown rapidly, at nearly 10% a year — far outpacing general school enrolment growth.

Most of these students remain in mainstream schools (around 90%), but mainstream classrooms and standard curricula are often ill-equipped to meet their needs.

While there has been some expansion of specialist/supported inclusion schools (in places like Victoria, reports indicate dozens of new campuses have opened in recent years) — this scale of expansion seems entirely outstripped by demand.

Moreover, even when support is nominally available, it is often superficial: many neurodiverse students report they still “struggle to fit in socially,” have “learning difficulties,” communication problems, and require special tuition or disability support. For example, among 5–20 year-old autistic persons with disability in school settings, 68.9% experienced difficulties at their place of learning; 35.4% needed special tuition; 34.3% needed a counsellor or disability support person; but one in five received no additional assistance at all.

The mismatch between need and effective support is especially problematic given the lifelong nature of conditions such as autism — and given that early, appropriate intervention (therapeutic, educational, social) can meaningfully improve long-term outcomes.

In short: governments pledge inclusion, but the resources and infrastructure to deliver inclusion effectively remain insufficient.

What Good Neurodiverse-Inclusive Education Could (and Should) Look Like — Lessons From Emerging Models

Around the world (and increasingly in research), there is growing recognition that “inclusive education” for neurodiverse children must go beyond token adjustments: it must integrate therapeutic support, tailored pedagogy, and flexible learning environments.

For example: a recent study described the use of a humanoid social robot (the NAO robot) in classrooms for students with autism. In that experiment, autistic students in classes using NAO showed better focus, higher engagement, reduced stereotypical behaviour compared with those in regular settings — suggesting that assistive technology and alternative pedagogical tools can significantly enhance learning and social participation.

Other recent research (e.g. a 2025 systematic review of neurodiversity in computing education) highlights the need for active learning, flexible assessment approaches, and co-designed pedagogical materials to accommodate neurodivergent learners — rather than “one-size-fits-all” teaching.

Therapeutic integration — including occupational therapy, educational psychology, executive-function training, social skills support, cognitive behavioural strategies — can be life-changing. When properly resourced, such supports can enhance memory, critical thinking, planning, problem solving, executive functioning, social interaction — all the skills needed not just for academic success, but for employment, independence, and quality of life.

International best practice shows that this is not pie-in-the-sky: it is feasible. The failure is political will and funding.

The Real Costs: Lost Potential, Wasted Lives, and Systemic Inequality

The stakes of underfunding and mis-supporting neurodiverse people are high. When children with autism or ADHD don’t get the support they need:

• Many will never reach their educational potential, making university or vocational training unreachable;
• Many will drop out of school altogether or settle for minimal qualifications;
• As adults, they are much more likely to be unemployed or trapped in insecure, underpaid, part-time work — despite often having valuable skills;
• Their mental health, quality of life, independence, and self-esteem suffer; higher rates of co-occurring problems (anxiety, depression, social isolation) are common among neurodiverse populations in under-served societies.

From a societal point of view, this is a colossal waste of human capital — in a nation that prides itself on fairness and opportunity.

When almost one in four schoolchildren are now classified as needing extra support, yet structures to serve them remain under-resourced, what we are really witnessing is systemic ableism: a system that rewards conformity and penalises difference.

Why This Must Change — And How Australia Could Lead

We already have the data, and we already have promising models. What’s missing is commitment.

• Instead of marginal funding and occasional “special classes,” Australia should invest in system-wide inclusive education: flexible curricula, therapeutic supports (occupational therapy, counselling, educational psychologists), smaller class sizes, teacher training in neurodiversity, and integration of assistive technologies.
• Schools should collaborate with health and social-service providers to treat neurodiversity holistically — recognising that education, health care, quality of life and social participation are deeply interconnected.
• For older neurodiverse students (teens, young adults), tertiary institutions need to develop tailored supports: flexible assessment, practical learning options, mentoring, executive-function coaching — so that neurodiverse people have a fair shot at university and beyond.
• Governments should commit to long-term funding — not short-term “catch-up” packages — for neurodivergent support, and publicly track outcomes (graduation rates, employment, wellbeing) to ensure accountability.

With commitment and resources, Australia could become a world leader in neurodiverse-inclusive education — unlocking the talents of tens of thousands of people who now get left behind.

Conclusion — A Moral and Economic Imperative

To ignore neurodiversity is not to take a neutral position. It is to actively perpetuate inequality, waste potential, and deny a significant portion of the population their basic rights to education, employment, dignity, and belonging.

If Australia truly believes in fairness, opportunity, and human rights — then the current state of neurodiverse education and support is a disgrace. We must demand more: better funding, systemic reform, inclusive pedagogy, therapeutic support, and long-term commitment. The social and economic costs of doing nothing are too high — for individuals, families, and the nation.

It is time for neurodiversity not to be a footnote in policy, but a central consideration — in our schools, universities, health system, and workplace.