The ADHD Rebellion: Why the Hunters Among Us Were Never Broken

A new wave of science is finally admitting what millions have felt in their bones—ADHD isn’t a disorder, it’s an evolutionary design built for a world that forgot it still needs Hunters.

For generations, people with ADHD have been told that something is wrong with them. Parents of ADHD kids are handed diagnoses wrapped in fear, lists of deficits, and warnings about what their children will struggle with or fail at. Adults who discover their ADHD later in life often describe a kind of grief: “Why couldn’t I just be normal?”

But what if — as I’ve argued for three decades — the problem was never the people with ADHD at all? What if the real problem is that our culture, schools, and workplaces were built for one kind of mind, while millions of us are naturally wired for another?

A new study out of Norway’s University of Bergen adds powerful evidence to a truth many of us have known intuitively for years: people with ADHD don’t just have challenges; they also have strengths—real, measurable, life-enhancing strengths—creativity, adaptability, resilience, and an unconventional way of seeing the world that often leads to original solutions where others hit walls.

The researchers found that many adults with ADHD described their traits not as handicaps but as double-edged gifts.

— High energy, for example, can be chaotic in tightly structured environments but incredibly valuable when quick decisions, rapid action, or persistence are needed.

— Hyperfocus can derail a school day, but in the right environment it becomes laser-sharp mastery of a subject or skill.

— Even the impulsivity that schools try to train out of children is a form of rapid-response decision-making that, in some contexts, saves lives.

This idea isn’t new. Over 30 years ago I developed the Hunter/Farmer hypothesis of ADHD to explain why these traits are not random or broken but evolved.

For most of human history, people lived in small nomadic hunter-gatherer bands. Hunters were the individuals who had to scan the environment constantly, respond instantly to change, and pursue rapid bursts of activity when opportunity appeared.

They needed a mind that jumped quickly from one stimulus to another, that noticed what others missed, that could hyperfocus on the rustle in the grass, and that leapt into action without hesitation. Those traits were essential to survival.

Later, when humans settled into agricultural communities, the Farmer temperament became dominant: steady, predictable, routine-oriented, comfortable with repetitive tasks, and able to work methodically from dawn to dusk without distraction.

For the last few thousand years, most societies have been built around the Farmer way of thinking. Schools, factories, bureaucracies, law firms, and corporate offices all reward the same thing: sit still, follow directions, do one task at a time, and don’t question the structure. And so the Hunters among us—people with ADHD—are told they are defective when, in fact, they’re simply living in systems that don’t match their natural wiring.

What’s remarkable about the new University of Bergen study is that it confirms this evolutionary perspective in the lived experience of ADHD adults.

When asked to describe positive aspects of their condition, participants consistently highlighted creativity, innovation, curiosity, novelty-seeking, resilience, and a willingness to take risks. These are exactly the traits that would make an effective hunter.

One participant said they could spot opportunities or dangers others overlooked. Another said their drive to try new things had led to skills and adventures their non-ADHD peers never experienced. Many said their struggles gave them empathy and unusual emotional intelligence, because they’d spent a lifetime navigating obstacles the rest of the Farmer world didn’t even see.

One of the most powerful findings was the theme of resilience. People with ADHD—especially those diagnosed in adulthood—often had spent decades believing they’re failing at things that “should” be easy: organizing tasks, keeping schedules, staying inside narrow lines.

Yet that constant friction, according to the new research, forges a deep kind of psychological strength. You learn to get up after setbacks, to find workarounds, to experiment, to reinvent yourself, to adapt quickly when plans fall apart. The very path that causes difficulty also cultivates a toughness and flexibility that many neurotypical people/Farmers never develop.

And there’s something even deeper: a sense of relief.

Many participants said that receiving an ADHD diagnosis helped them understand themselves for the first time. They weren’t broken. They weren’t lazy. They weren’t incompetent. They were different, and that difference came with value. The diagnosis didn’t just explain their challenges; it explained their gifts.

This is where the Hunter/Farmer framework offers an even more hopeful reframe.

If a person with ADHD is a Hunter trying to survive in a Farmer’s world, the answer isn’t to eliminate their Hunter traits. The answer is to build a life—school, work, relationships—where those traits are assets, not liabilities.

Hunters thrive in environments with novelty, movement, challenge, and creativity. Entrepreneurial work, emergency response, journalism, the arts, activism, engineering, design, caregiving, politics, teaching, environmental science, research, and dozens of other fields are filled with adults who grew up labeled “disordered” only to discover that the very traits criticized in childhood became advantages in adulthood.

Parents of ADHD children should know this: your child does not have a “broken” brain. Your child has a Hunter’s brain living in a Farmer’s classroom.

That same child will likely grow into an adult who can improvise solutions under pressure, think divergently, generate ideas that break old patterns, care deeply, and persist through adversity. The research shows it, the evolutionary history supports it, and millions of successful ADHD adults embody it.

The world has always needed both Hunters and Farmers. The tragedy is that we built our modern systems as if one type were superior to the other.

But the tide is turning. Science is catching up to what many ADHD adults have been saying for years: this is not a defect. It’s a difference. And when that difference is understood and supported, it becomes a strength.

If you or your child lives with ADHD, the message is simple: there’s nothing wrong with you. You’re not alone. Your mind is built for a world that still desperately needs Hunters.

And the more we recognize and value that truth, the more opportunities will open for individuals, families, workplaces, and society as a whole.