ADHD Evolved

ADHD is often framed as a disorder. It’s the kid who can’t sit still in class, or the one who interrupts  impulsively. It’s the teenager with more projects than they can ever possibly finish. It’s the adult who loses their keys three times in one morning, and who has so many browser tabs open that it’s a miracle their PC hasn’t completely keeled over. But, what if we’ve been looking at it all wrong? 

What if the traits we associate with ADHD aren’t signs of dysfunction - but reflections of a brain wired for a different time?

Let’s go back. Way back - before classrooms, calendars, and commutes. In a tribal or traditional society, ADHD traits weren’t a poor fit for the environment. They were a perfect match.

Take the so-called ‘hyperactive type’. In today’s world, they’re often seen as disruptive or impatient. Hyperactivity often shows up as restlessness, constant motion, and impulsive speech and behaviour.  But in a pre-industrial world, these traits would have been assets. ADHDers would have been excellent hunters and warriors - roles that demanded quick reflexes, bursts of energy, the instinct to act without hesitation, and the drive to respond swiftly rather than pause to deliberate. Hyperactivity isn’t aimless, it’s purposeful energy in search of an outlet - one that schools and workplaces rarely provide.

And those labelled “inattentive”? The daydreamers, and the easily distracted? These individuals would have made exceptional scouts and foragers. Their attention isn’t absent - it’s wide. Rather than focusing narrowly on one task, they scan the horizon, tune into shifts in light or sound, and notice things on the edge of their vision. This kind of scattered environmental awareness would have been invaluable for spotting predators, tracking animals, or navigating unfamiliar terrain. They would have also been adept at finding food - spotting edible berries by colour, identifying subtle differences between safe and poisonous plants. It’s the same reason many ADHDers are so good at video games today - their brains are built for it! 

ADHD brains tend to chase stimulation - not just by doing, but by thinking. They’re drawn to novelty, challenge, and ideas that spark their curiosity. They follow mental rabbit trails, make unexpected connections, and approach problems from unusual angles. It’s a trait that makes them incredibly creative. In a historical setting, these minds would have been tinkerers and inventors - the ones who experimented, explored, and imagined new ways to solve old problems. What might look like daydreaming is often deep imaginative play - an engine for insight, invention, and possibility.

Even a common ADHD trait like time blindness makes more sense when we consider that most of human history didn’t involve clocks or strict schedules. Our ancestors lived by rhythms - sunrise, seasons, hunger, danger. Not by bells or deadlines.

This isn’t to romanticise ADHD or overlook the very real struggles that can come with it. Executive dysfunction, emotional intensity, and difficulties with organisation are real, but my intention here is to emphasise that ADHD is more valuable than we often appreciate. 

Today, ADHD is estimated to affect around 5-7% of people worldwide, with diagnoses steadily increasing over recent decades. This rise reflects growing awareness rather than a new condition appearing. ADHD isn’t new - it’s a long established neurotype surviving in a world that no longer recognises its significance. 

Our modern society amplifies ADHD ‘symptoms’ because capitalism places a premium on uniformity and constant output over individuality and flexibility. There’s a constant push to meet deadlines, stay on task, and produce more in less time - expectations that often clash with brains wired for novelty, regular movement, and creative exploration. At the same time, consumer culture bombards us with endless distractions designed to hijack attention, making it even harder for ADHD minds to focus or find calm.

So, the challenge isn’t that ADHD traits are “disordered.” It’s that they clash with a society that rewards sitting still, being quiet, following linear plans, and tolerating boredom. It’s not dysfunction - it’s friction: a mismatch between how some brains are wired and the conditions they’re expected to live in.