There are some really strong values that govern ADHD brains, and neurodivergent brains more broadly. And those values are not chaos, impulsivity or inattention.

They are efficiency, logic and clarity.

I find it genuinely strange that this isn’t talked about more, because when ADHD comes up in conversation, these are almost never the words people reach for first. The picture we’re usually offered is one of disorder, distraction and messiness, sometimes even a kind of inner unruliness. Yet when I speak to people with ADHD, these values are recognised almost immediately. Not as aspirations or ideals they’re striving towards, but as something deeply familiar, something lived.

There’s often a moment of pause, and then a quiet recognition. Oh. Yes. That’s exactly it.

Because a lot of the internal friction ADHD adults live with doesn’t come from not caring, not trying, or not being capable. It comes from caring very deeply about things that aren’t especially well supported by the systems we’re expected to move through every day. Once you start looking at ADHD through that lens, a surprising amount begins to make sense.

Across conversations, coaching sessions and lived experience, the same values keep surfacing. Not as personality traits or buzzwords, but as pressure points, the places where things start to rub.

Clarity matters because we want to understand what’s actually going on. What’s being asked of us, why it matters, and what “done” really looks like. Vague instructions, implied expectations and moving goalposts are not neutral; they are cognitively and emotionally expensive. We know that risk and errors love to live in the dark corners of assumptions and not asking questions. And we have learned the price time and again for not having the clarity that would have avoided issues.

Logic matters too, not in a rigid, rule-bound way, but in the sense of internal coherence. If something doesn’t add up, we can’t simply ignore that fact, and pretending otherwise takes effort. Trying to function inside systems that don’t make sense can feel like constantly adjusting yourself to sit comfortably on a chair that’s missing a leg. It’s just not a good idea. It’s not safe. And we can see that.

And efficiency matters, not as speed for speed’s sake, but as energy efficiency. ADHD brains are often instinctively attuned to the least draining way of doing something well. Unnecessary steps, duplicated processes and performative busywork don’t just irritate us; over time, they wear us down. We love efficiency because it’s what our eager brain is built for – making connections between things, fast. It’s deeply satisfying to us. So that’s what we are looking for.

Alongside these, there are other values that tend to sit just as strongly beneath the surface. Authenticity, for one. Saying what you mean and meaning what you say. Masking takes effort, and when environments reward performance over honesty, that effort compounds. Then there’s fairness, which often runs very deep. Double standards, arbitrary rules and unspoken hierarchies don’t land as mild irritations; they land as something being fundamentally off. And finally, connection, not forced teamwork or surface-level collaboration, but genuine shared purpose and mutual understanding.

None of these values are unreasonable, and none of them are niche. We all benefit from these values. We are not aliens asking for broccoli shaped cherry flavoured dinosaur bones for breakfast. Yet living by these values can feel liek we have unusual needs that are impossible to satisfy.

Part of the reason for this is that the wider world tends to reward a slightly different set of values. Convenience is prized, because things need to move quickly and smoothly, even if that smoothness comes at the cost of clarity or depth. Compliance is valued, because predictability keeps systems running. Collaboration is encouraged, although often in the sense of appearing agreeable and aligned, rather than truly thinking together.

It’s important to say this clearly: these aren’t bad values. We live in groups, we rely on shared norms, and we need cooperation in order to function as a society. Convenience, compliance and collaboration all have an important role to play.

The difficulty arises when these values are pushed too far.

When convenience becomes shallow efficiency, when compliance slips into coercion, and when collaboration turns into performative agreement, things start to feel uncomfortable very quickly for neurodivergent people. Systems that are already weighted towards compliance, education being a good example, are particularly vulnerable to this slide. Rules stop being tools and start becoming tests of obedience. Questions are interpreted as resistance. Requests for clarity are treated as inconvenience.

From the neurodivergent side, the experience can feel quite different. It can feel like being asked to comply without understanding, to collaborate without real choice, or to accept inefficiency in the name of harmony. And because blind followership isn’t our natural setting, this can sometimes tip us into a stuck position of resistance, not rebelliousness for its own sake, but an inability to move without meaning.

This is where the tension between neurodivergence and what I often call neurocompliance really shows itself. Neuro-compliant systems tend to rely on people smoothing themselves to fit the system. Neurodivergent nervous systems tend to rely on the system making sense. When those two logics collide, something has to give.

If the system tightens, the person dysregulates. If the person pushes back, the system escalates. At that point, the issue is no longer really about values at all, but about power.

What often gets missed in all of this is that the fallout isn’t just intellectual or emotional; it’s physiological. When core values are repeatedly compromised, the nervous system doesn’t politely object, it protests. Confusion turns into hypervigilance, illogical demands trigger shutdown or simmering anger, inefficiency drains reserves, and sustained inauthenticity often shows up as shame.

Unlike many neuro-compliant brains, ADHD brains don’t necessarily go blank under pressure. We tend to push through, think harder and try to reason our way out of systems that don’t make sense. That strategy can work for a while, until burnout eventually taps us on the shoulder, or kicks the door in.

Naming what’s really going on can be surprisingly relieving. Instead of asking why we can’t cope, we start asking which value is being compromised. Instead of trying to fix ourselves, we begin to protect what matters. We look for ways to create more clarity where we can, reduce unnecessary friction, and carve out pockets of autonomy, honesty and fairness.

The head-banging doesn’t disappear entirely, but it does ease. Not because the world suddenly reorganises itself around us, but because we stop trying to survive by becoming someone we’re not. We can reclaim our need for clarity, efficiency and logic not as weird cravings, but legitimate and reasonable pursuits that are worth making space for, and can be the antidote to performative compliance.