Neurodivergence (Autism - ADHD) in a Rapidly Changing World: Finding Balance in an Age of Uncertainty
- Amy Duffy-Barnes

- 1 day ago
- 5 min read

Lately, I have found myself thinking about the pace of change and neurodivergence in a changing world. Every generation believes they are living through extraordinary times, but there is a compelling argument that something genuinely different is happening today. The world does not simply feel faster than it once did, it is moving faster.
For most of human history, change occurred gradually. For tens of thousands of years, life remained relatively the same for hunter/gatherers and agrarian people. They lived in relatively small communities. Information traveled slowly. A person might spend their entire life within a short distance of where they were born, and the world their grandparents knew was often recognizable to them. Cultural change, technological innovation, and social transformation unfolded over generations rather than months.
Today, we experience an entirely different reality. Within a single lifetime, many of us have witnessed the rise of personal computers, the internet, smartphones, social media, artificial intelligence, and global connectivity. Information that once required hours of research can now be accessed in seconds. Technologies that seemed impossible a decade ago are already becoming commonplace. Each year seems to bring a new wave of disruption before we have fully adapted to the last one.
The challenge is that our nervous systems did not evolve for this environment.
One phrase I often return to is this: Our nervous systems are Stone Age hardware, but we are now expecting them to run sophisticated, fast moving modern world software. Our nervous systems were built to deal with short term immediate threats, but now we live in a world were the Dooms Day clock is a mere 85 seconds from midnight and we are dealing with complex, long term, ongoing threats.
Human beings evolved in small groups, navigating relatively stable environments. Our brains were designed to track social relationships, notice threats, solve practical problems, and respond to changes that unfolded slowly, at a pace we could reasonably understand. We were not designed to absorb an endless stream of global news, economic uncertainty, political conflict, rapidly growing information and technological innovation, all while engaging in social comparison twenty-four hours a day.
When viewed from this perspective, it becomes easier to understand why so many people feel overwhelmed. Anxiety, burnout, exhaustion, and a persistent sense of uncertainty are not necessarily signs that something is wrong with us. They may be understandable responses to a world that is changing faster than any previous generation has experienced.
As autistic people, many of us feel this acceleration particularly intensely. Our nervous systems are often on fire.
I personally am autistic which is often associated with a preference for routine, predictability, and stability. Sudden changes can be genuinely dysregulating, especially when they arrive outside of my power and control and without warning or adequate time to adapt. Yet there is another side to autism that receives less attention. Many autistic, ADHD and otherwise neurodivergent people are deeply curious. We are often drawn to systems, patterns, knowledge, and understanding. We want to know how things work and why they work that way.
For some neurodivergent people, and especially for those of us who are AuDHD, change can feel both terrifying and fascinating. We may long for stability while simultaneously becoming captivated by new ideas, technologies, and possibilities. We can find ourselves exhausted by uncertainty while also eagerly exploring it.
This creates a unique relationship with the modern world. While rapid change can strain our nervous systems, it can also engage our deepest interests. We are often among the first to notice emerging patterns and to ask difficult questions about where society is heading.
Because of this, I sometimes wonder whether autistic people possess insights that may become increasingly valuable in the years ahead.
Much of the work we do in neurodiversity-affirming spaces centers around learning how to live well in environments that are often overwhelming, unpredictable, and poorly designed for our needs. We talk about energy management, sensory regulation, pacing, burnout prevention, community support, and self-understanding. These are not simply autism/neurodivergent-related skills. They are human skills.
As society becomes increasingly complex, the lessons many autistic people have spent their lives learning may become relevant to everyone.
When conversations turn toward artificial intelligence, political uncertainty, economic disruption, or social change, it is easy to become preoccupied with prediction. People want to know what will happen next. Will AI transform work? Will governments become more authoritarian in an age of rapids changes? Will technology improve our lives or diminish our freedoms?
These questions matter, but there is a limit to how much certainty we can achieve. The future has always been unpredictable. What has changed is our awareness of that unpredictability.
Perhaps the more useful question is not what the future will bring, but what qualities will help us navigate whatever future arrives.
Throughout history, people have survived extraordinary periods of change not because they accurately predicted every development, but because they cultivated resilience. They maintained relationships. They cared for their physical health. They developed emotional regulation skills. They adapted when circumstances changed. They found meaning and purpose even during uncertain times.
This is why I often return to what may sound like surprisingly simple advice: take care of your nervous system.
Get enough sleep.
Move your body.
Take care of your sensory needs.
Engage in lots and lots of self care.
Work on self compassion.
Spend time with people who matter to you.
Cultivate community.
Protect your energy.
Learn when to engage and when to step back.
Practice grounding and balance.
These practices do not make uncertainty disappear. They make uncertainty more manageable.
As a Buddhist, I find comfort in another observation: everything changes. The world has always been changing. The difference today is that we can see the changes unfolding in real time. News arrives instantly. Technologies emerge overnight. Entire industries can be transformed within a few years.
The river is moving faster than it once did, there are more rapids.
The temptation is to panic, cling to certainty, or attempt to control what cannot be controlled. Yet Buddhist philosophy suggests another possibility. We do not control the river. We control how we mentally handle the ride and we have some control over the condition of our nervous system as we go with the flow.
The goal is not to eliminate uncertainty. The goal is to cultivate enough wisdom, balance, and self-awareness to navigate uncertainty without being consumed by it.
In a world that seems determined to accelerate, perhaps the most radical act is not moving faster with it. Perhaps it is learning how to remain grounded while everything around us speeds up.
The future may be uncertain, but our humanity remains remarkably constant. We still need connection. We still need meaning. We still need community. We still need to care for our bodies and minds.
No matter how advanced our technology becomes, those truths remain unchanged.




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