It is vital that young people who are neurodiverse, or who are experiencing significant mental health difficulties, receive the support, treatment and diagnoses they need. In our school, we work hard to be genuinely inclusive. But I wonder whether our system’s growing reliance on labels and diagnoses always supports children, or whether, in some cases, it may hold them back. Traits and behaviours that were once accepted as part of growing up are increasingly being labelled as conditions or disorders, while underlying causes are overlooked.

Having personal experience of neurodiversity in my family, I know that obtaining a diagnosis can be life-changing and reassuring for families and their children, but is it happening too often?  I am increasingly concerned about how readily our society interprets children’s behaviour through the lens of diagnosis, as ‘labels’ can, unintentionally, absolve the adults around a child of responsibility and lower our expectations.

Many experiences we are quick to interpret as disorders have always been part of growing up. It has always been normal for children to feel distressed before an exam or when a family member is unwell. There have always been shy children and confident ones, those who find separation difficult, and those who struggle to concentrate. So why does it feel as though we are witnessing a surge in mental health conditions among the young? Improved diagnosis certainly explains part of the rise. Greater awareness has also helped many children who might previously have been misunderstood, and these are positive steps forward. While children with neurodevelopmental and mental health conditions deserve understanding and timely support, our growing reliance on labels risks steering our focus in an unhelpful direction. Increasingly, we find ourselves asking, “What disorder might explain this?” instead of asking, “What is this child experiencing, and how can we help?”

EBSA (Emotionally Based School Avoidance) is a heartbreaking and increasingly common condition in schools. National data shows that pupils who are regularly absent from school has more than doubled in recent years, with children avoiding school due to anxiety reported by nearly 30% of secondary pupils in a recent UK survey (Stem4.org). For children, EBSA can become genuinely debilitating, and families often feel at their wits’ end. Many headteachers report that when a child struggles to separate from a parent, the first response is often to pursue a diagnosis or an Education, Health and Care Plan (EHCP), rather than initially addressing the difficulty through practical, evidence-based strategies.

Perhaps the most profound change is how we respond to unhappiness. When a child is upset or worried our instinct is increasingly to see that as something requiring treatment, therapy or intervention. When we treat every worry as a crisis, children can start to see ordinary difficulties as dangerous, and then their instinct is to avoid them rather than work through them. Many of the difficulties children face are uncomfortable, but not dangerous, and psychologists consistently agree that when we rush to shield children from every distress, we can unintentionally increase their anxiety rather than reduce it.

The people best placed to help children are their parents. Calm responses and consistent expectations, mixed with an understanding of practical strategies, can often shape outcomes more powerfully than a diagnostic label. Yet once a diagnosis enters the picture, even confident parents can begin to doubt their instincts and risk becoming passive recipients of ‘expert’ guidance rather than active agents of change.

None of this is to suggest that children with significant needs should not be supported, simply that diagnoses and labels are not always a helpful starting point. When difficulties are framed primarily as ‘conditions’, the consequences can be subtle but powerful: parents may feel less capable, teachers may lower expectations, and children may feel they are somehow flawed.

I absolutely support the diagnosis of specific needs, and in some cases, it is not just helpful, it is essential. I also support medical treatment where it is needed: I have seen medication transform the life chances of children with severe attention and hyperactivity difficulties. Diagnoses can be reassuring (“it’s not just bad behaviour”) and thus lift parental guilt and reduce stigma. But the label is not the cure, and nor should it define and become the explanation for everything.

So what might this mean for parents? I would always advise parents to be mindful of how diagnosed and undiagnosed conditions are discussed at home. At school we often see children interpret the corresponding labels as meaning, “I can’t help it,” which chips away at self-belief and is seldom true.  In some cases, this can understandably lead parents to lower expectations, which, despite their best intentions, may not help their child in the long run.

My concern, then, is not really the diagnosis itself – it is our growing assumption that diagnosis is the only answer. When we over-label children, the cost may be measured in lowered expectations, reduced resilience, and the message some children absorb, that they might be defined by their difficulties rather than their potential. Of course, some children need specialist support, and diagnosis can open vital doors. But if labels become our first or only response, we risk narrowing what we expect of children, and what they expect of themselves.