There is a lot of noise about autism at the moment: claims, counterclaims, politics, and misinformation. But confusion about autism is not new. The boundaries of what it means, and the tension between those searching for a cause or cure and those seeking real support, have been contested for decades.
In NeuroTribes, Steve Silberman traces that history. Drawing on the voices of clinicians, parents, governments, and, most importantly, autistic people themselves, he offers a panoramic view of how autism has been understood, misunderstood, and reframed over time.
Ten years after its original publication, this book feels as relevant as ever. Silberman’s account is balanced. He does not romanticise autism, but he also resists oversimplifying it or sorting people into tidy diagnostic boxes. Instead, he highlights both the challenges and the richness of neurodivergent lives.
A New Way of Seeing
When NeuroTribes was released in 2015, it told a story that was both historical and deeply human. It explored how ideas from Hans Asperger and Leo Kanner shaped modern diagnoses, and how medical thinking narrowed our understanding of human variation. Silberman reframed autism as part of the natural diversity of human minds, a shift that created space for pride where stigma had long existed.
For many families and neurodivergent readers, the book was transformative. It was one of the first mainstream works to move beyond academic and clinical audiences, speaking directly to parents, educators, and professionals who wanted to understand rather than fix.
The idea that there is no single “normal” brain, but instead a range of cognitive styles, was quietly revolutionary.
Ten Years On: New Language, Same Systems
Since NeuroTribes appeared, awareness of neurodiversity has grown. Workplaces now reference it in recruitment materials. Schools and universities talk about “strengths-based inclusion.” Even conflict resolution and HR practice have begun using terms like “cognitive accessibility” and “processing time.”
Yet awareness is not the same as access. Many systems still reflect neurotypical assumptions about communication, emotion, and behaviour. NeuroTribes helped us name these assumptions, but the harder work lies in redesigning the structures that exclude.
In mediation and workplace conflict settings, for example, time pressure, sensory overload, and subtle social expectations can disadvantage those who process information differently. The challenge is to turn empathy into design: to make processes flexible enough to fit the people in them.
What Silberman Got Right
Silberman’s greatest strength is storytelling. He takes historical facts and restores their humanity, showing that many early “cases” of autism were simply people whose gifts were overlooked because they did not fit social norms.
He reframes the history of autism as a civil-rights story about belonging, identity, and power. That framing continues to resonate.
For practitioners in conflict resolution, the lesson is clear. The language we use shapes the way we see and treat people. Moving from deficit-based terms such as “disordered” or “impaired” to descriptive language like “divergent” or “different” changes both tone and possibility.
NeuroTribes also widened the conversation. It was not written only for autistic readers; it asked all of us to examine our own norms. In that sense, it was as much about neurotypicality as neurodivergence. Typical, Silberman reminds us, simply means most common, not most correct.
From Awareness to Practice
Revisiting NeuroTribes a decade later, what stands out is not only how much it changed minds, but how much work remains to change environments. For those of us designing processes for people in conflict, the goal is no longer to “include” neurodivergent participants as exceptions. It is to build systems that do not exclude them in the first place.
Ten years on, NeuroTribes continues to challenge our assumptions about what is “normal.” It asks us to treat difference as ordinary, to build systems that fit the people in them, and to notice where our own comfort with sameness might narrow our view.
Silberman’s book remains more than a history. It is a reminder that inclusion is not a fixed goal but a constant act of redesign. For anyone working with people in conflict, the invitation is simple: keep learning from difference and keep adjusting the systems that hold it.