"Birds were never meant to be caged" were the words of my client as he stood up to leave at the end of a session, my response being "very true, and think of all the ways society creates a cage for us." This interaction followed a session themed around connection, rejection, love & loss. Themes that frequent many therapy sessions, because connection is at the core of humanity, with love & loss inevitable consequences. The act of rejection being both borne out of and a creator of shame. And so this piece was inspired …
The social cage: restrictive, repetitive norms
Modern societies often pride themselves on flexibility, freedom and openness to change. The stories I so often hear from the many neurodivergent clients I see tell me that beneath this collective self-image lies a powerful and largely unchallenged structure: a "social cage" built from norms, expectations and behavioural scripts that are assumed as natural and universal. These structures are overwhelmingly shaped by neurotypically driven cultures; cultures that privilege certain ways of thinking, communicating and behaving. This social schema, perhaps unconsciously, quietly but powerfully marginalises a great many individuals. Ironically, what is considered "normal" is often received by those wonderfully divergent minds as rigid, repetitive and deeply resistant to difference.
The greatest illusion
Neurotypicality is rarely named as a positional standpoint. Instead, it is treated as a neutral baseline from which deviations are measured. Eye contact, small talk, punctuality, productivity rhythms, emotional display and hierarchical obedience are framed not as cultural preferences but as moral or practical necessities. To fail at these is not merely to be different, but to be deficient.
This illusion of normality allows neurotypically driven systems to avoid scrutiny. Their rules are not seen as rules at all, but as "common sense." The cage becomes invisible because so many people have been trained to move within it without questioning its bars.
Repetition does not equal stability
One of the most striking features of neurotypical social systems is their reliance on repetition. Meetings follow predictable formats regardless of effectiveness. Workdays are structured around arbitrary time blocks rather than human energy or cognitive variation. Social rituals, greetings, pleasantries and networking performances are repeated with near-liturgical consistency, even when participants privately, or publicly, acknowledge their emptiness.
These repetitions, when challenged, are often defended as stabilising or efficient. In practice, they function as behavioural enforcement mechanisms. They reward those who can effortlessly mimic expected patterns and exhaust those who must consciously translate themselves into acceptable forms. What is labelled "professionalism" or "social skill" amounts to an ability to tolerate monotony and suppress authentic expression.
Control through conformity
The social cage is not maintained through overt coercion alone; praise, exclusion and pathologisation are heavily relied upon, right from our earliest introductions to social constructs and institutions. Individuals flummoxed by neurotypical expectations are forced to adapt, mask or "improve" themselves. Rarely is the inverse question asked: how did just one cognitive style come to dominate the social landscape?
Neurodivergent behaviours — direct communication, so-called atypical emotional expression, sensory sensitivity and non-linear thinking — are frequently framed as disruptive. Perhaps what is truly being disrupted is not social harmony, but the passive comfort of rigid systems that depend on predictability and control.
Who is the cage really for?
A paradox sits at the heart of neurotypically driven cultures: the cage constrains everyone, not only those it marginalises most visibly. Neurotypical individuals, too, are pressured to perform emotional scripts, suppress dissent and endure repetitive routines that remove the opportunity to contrive meaning from work and relationships. Burnout, alienation and chronic dissatisfaction are not side effects; they are warning signals.
Neurodivergent individuals are not the only people impacted; the difference is that neurodivergent people often hit the bars sooner and harder. Their perceived resistance, withdrawal or visible distress exposes the artificiality of the structure itself. In this sense, neurodivergence does not create the problem; it reveals it.
Beyond accommodation toward transformation
Calls for inclusion often stop at accommodation — allowing limited deviations, or so-called "reasonable adjustments", without challenging the underlying system. While accommodations are necessary, they are insufficient if the cage itself remains intact. True transformation requires questioning why uniformity is prized over adaptability, why repetition is confused with reliability and why difference is treated as risk rather than resource.
A society shaped by multiple neurotypes would not merely "make space" for difference; it would re-organise itself around variability. Communication would be clearer and more explicit. Work would prioritise meaningful outcomes over professional appearances. Social value would be decoupled from performative norms and instead grounded in mutual understanding and respect.
Opening the cage
The first step toward dismantling the social cage is naming it. Neurotypicality must be recognised as a cultural position, not a mandated benchmark. Once identified, restrictive and repetitive behaviours can be explored and understood, providing opportunity for change.
Freedom, in this context, is not the absence of structure, but the presence of choice and room for autonomy. We are all truly unique, with a rich variety of offerings. So much of our creativity from our earliest experiences is confined within the limits of an A4 piece of paper and an HB pencil.
Privilege in my mind is an invitation to spend a moment in another person's space, to be welcomed into their world, to be trusted enough to see their wild wholeness, shame and all. These are the foundations of meaning and connection. The courage and vulnerability my clients bring into the room every day — where thoughts and emotions do not need to be justified, only experienced.
Encouraging the natural breadth of human thinking, interacting and existing — to coexist without hierarchical measures of control — allows the bars to loosen. What emerges is not chaos, but a richer, more humane social ecology, one in which difference is not feared, but vital. Let's embrace our wholeness; however we identify, whatever we believe, whoever we are.
Lucy-Mai McCann, thereparatory.co.uk, December 2025
