In recent years, practitioners across criminal justice, safeguarding and prevention have become increasingly aware of the relationship between neurodivergence, online spaces and extremism. In a recent Home Affairs Committee Inquiry, neurodiversity was featured front and centre.
In many ways, this awareness is long overdue. However, findings from my research suggest that how we understand this relationship matters just as much as whether we recognise it at all.
A recurring issue identified by practitioners was the reliance on surface-level understandings of neurodivergence, particularly autism. While intended to explain vulnerability, these simplified narratives may unintentionally increase risk, both for neurodivergent people and for the systems tasked with supporting them.
From “innocent” content to harmful pathways
Participants widely agreed that neurodivergent people can be vulnerable to online exploitation. They described a familiar pathway: engagement begins with seemingly harmless activity (gaming, memes, online humour) before progressing, often by chance, into darker and more extreme content. Over time, what once felt shocking becomes normalised, especially within closed or encrypted online spaces where graphic or extremist material circulates freely. This process will be explored more in the next resource.
Importantly, this process was not unique to neurodivergent people. However, practitioners frequently suggested that autistic traits, particularly social isolation and specialist interests (what were often termed “fixations”), increased susceptibility to being pulled deeper by algorithms and online communities.
As one practitioner explained, when someone “goes down the rabbit hole”, algorithms can quickly connect them with like‑minded groups, reinforcing behaviours and identities that feel meaningful and validating.
Where surface-level understanding becomes a problem
While these observations were grounded in practice, the way neurodivergence was discussed often lacked depth. Autism, in particular, was frequently treated as a catch‑all explanation. All participants defaulted to talking about autistic individuals when asked about neurodiversity, with ADHD mentioned far less frequently. Deficit‑focused language such as “symptoms”, “issues” and “suffering from” also appeared in over half of the interviews.
This matters, because traits alone do not explain behaviour.
By focusing narrowly on perceived inherent characteristics, such as routine‑seeking, intense interests or social differences, there was little acknowledgement of situational and structural risk factors. Factors such as social exclusion, disrupted education, lack of meaningful support, or periods of isolation (for example during COVID‑19 lockdowns) were often secondary, despite clearly shaping online engagement.
In some cases, practitioners expressed uncertainty about whether neurodivergent individuals intended harm at all. Young people were described as saying things like “I didn’t mean it” or “I was just saying it online”, highlighting difficulties in understanding consequences in digital spaces. Yet beneath these concerns sat the undertone that “there’s no grievance, no ideology, it’s just neurodiversity”. There will be further resources unpicking this further.
Why this framing is risky
Reducing extremist involvement to neurodivergent traits risks:
- masking genuine ideological development,
- overlooking exploitation and grooming,
- and misinterpreting intent, capacity, or risk.
It also mirrors long‑standing problems in counter‑terrorism more broadly, where reductive cultural or identity‑based assumptions replace nuanced analysis. When behaviour is attributed primarily to neurodivergence, responsibility quietly shifts away from online systems, social environments, and institutional barriers and onto the individual.
Reflections for practice
For practitioners, this finding raises important questions:
- Are we treating neurodivergence as an explanation, or a shortcut?
- How often do we interrogate context rather than defaulting to traits?
- Do our assessments distinguish between vulnerability, exploitation, ideology, and intent?
- And whose understanding of neurodivergence are we relying on — lived, researched, or assumed?
Moving beyond surface-level understanding is not about downplaying risk. It’s about recognising that simplistic narratives can create blind spots, and blind spots are where harm tends to grow.
This blog is part of a five-part series exploring how online algorithms, neurodivergence, and systems of response intersect in practice, based on Dr Alice Siberry’s research. To continue the series and access further practitioner resources, sign up here.
If you would like to explore how we could help improve understanding of neurodiversity in your organisation, please get in touch and we would be happy to discuss this with you.