Durham Constabulary Inspector Adam Norris reflects on how his neurodivergent identity has shaped his career in policing

When arguing that policing should not just merely include neurodivergent officers – but actively draw upon their strengths – Durham Police Federation branch member Adam Norris can point towards his own career as clear evidence of the advantages.

And to help mark World Autism Awareness Day, this is exactly what he has done, discussing his experiences to help spread a message of acceptance and empowerment among his colleagues in Durham Constabulary.

In a life lived with autism and Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder (ADHD), Adam says his decision to join the Force at the age of 22 felt momentous – but it came long before he fully understood what neurodivergence actually was.

Instead, he simply knew something was different about the way his mind worked, without being able to put a definitive finger on what it might be.

“I always felt different growing up, like I was a bit of an outsider. That continued into much of my adult life, for years to come after I first became a PCSO and later a PC,” Adam said.

“I had an understanding of my traits and tendencies, such as hyperfocus, pattern recognition and sensitivity to justice – a big factor in why I wanted to go into policing in the first place – but beyond that, I didn’t know what I was living with.”

While this perspective on himself has changed in recent times, Adam revealed that for a portion of his policing service, he has been faced with difficult moments stemming from misunderstandings, the frustrations of others and even discrimination.

Equally, though, he hasn’t let this adversity stop him from achieving in the police and becoming a champion for diversity and equality in the process.

Across periods spent in response, custody, offender management and the control room, he has remained geared towards efficiency, which has been behind some of his proudest accomplishments in the Force.

“That’s another key trait of mine which has always been there,” added Adam, who currently works across both a response investigation team and a prisoner handling team.

“I’ve always been known as a proactive officer, trying to find ways to make our output quicker and more effective. Back when I was a sergeant involved in a shoplifting project, I had the idea of asking the tech company we were working with to develop a remote statement taker, meaning officers could get a statement with a digital signature from anywhere in the world.

“As a Force, it’s quite possible that Durham was the first in the country to use this technology, and we’ve used it to get statements from victims and witnesses from as far away as Australia and Singapore.

“Under my leadership as a response Inspector, my team was recognised for our work disrupting organised crime groups. In that one, I think I was helped and motivated by my intolerance for unfairness and deep need to seek justice.”

Thanks to strong levels of empathy, Adam has ensured the impact of his innovative policing style does not end with his colleagues.

The 42-year-old has also been responsible for the creation of a still-active scrutiny panel within Durham Constabulary’s custody suite, which aims to ensure proportionate uses of force are applied across detainees of all social groups.

Recently, he has zoomed into the care of neurodivergent detainees by acting as a tactical advisor to a working group focused on the treatment of such individuals during their time in custody – mainly by ensuring officers are upskilled with the cultural competence to recognise where this may be necessary.

“Having an awareness is what it all comes down to, really. I didn’t completely have that myself until my own diagnosis in 2024, which validated me as a person and made everything make sense, going back to when I was a child.

“Even before that, however, I was at least considerate of it, which wasn’t always been afforded to me in return at work. It is said that neurodivergent people will average roughly 20,000 more negative interactions than neurotypical people before they even reach adulthood, and in my experience, that certainly wasn’t the end point.

“We can be sensitive to rejection and appear rude when we may just be hyperfocused.”

Additionally, Adam says he has, on occasion, been put under limits, doubted and questioned over his suitability for a role or task.

And if this is happening to other officers in his position, he says this is what pains him the most, because it means his profession misses out on the full talents of its workforce.

“Reasonable adjustments should be advocated, but I think the ultimate aim should be to improve workplace environments so fewer reasonable adjustments need to exist – and this doesn’t just go for policing.

“For me, part of that is not just accommodating us, but taking advantage of our unique strengths and capabilities.

“Despite my struggles, I’ve still been lucky enough to have had those opportunities at times, but it’s not the same for everyone.

“If you feel like this is you, you should just be yourself and not ‘mask’ to appease others – the more people who are openly neurodivergent in the police service, the more we can normalise what is essentially a natural variation in how the mind works and remove the stigma.” ∎

This blog was originally published on the Durham Police Federation website – it is reproduced here with kind permission of the author

by Sarah Whitehead
Neurodiversity Lead | Northamptonshire Police

As part of Neurodiversity Celebration Week, I would like to focus on and draw attention to the taboo subject of child-to-parent violence and abuse (CPVA) and the link to neurodivergent dysregulation.

CPVA encompasses a broad range of behaviours displayed by young people under the age of 18 years old towards their parents and/or caregivers. This behaviour may continue into adulthood.

It is important to distinguish between behaviours that are a direct result of the nervous system overload and that of intentional violence and coercive control.

The invisible load of parenting a neurodivergent child is real and can be extremely stressful. Neurodiversity rarely exists in isolation, and consequently many employees up and down the country are doing their best to navigate employment whilst managing inadequate school systems, healthcare pathways and being advocates for children and/or relatives, often alongside their own neurodivergent profiles; and with little to no external support.

The ‘family load’ fluctuates. Some weeks it is manageable; other weeks it is overwhelming. Traditional workplace models struggle with this reality, particularly when children are older and ‘should be trusted to be able to stay home alone by now’. Negative stereotypes are not at all helpful. Being called into school or to home at the last minute, or attending appointments that have taken two years to arrive is commonplace when parenting neurodivergent children. It is both overwhelming and exhausting, yet the world still turns, and the bills still need paying. Advocacy does not stop when a child turns 18 years old.

Neurodivergent children show a higher prevalence of CPVA, and often conflict arises where adults struggle to distinguish whether violent episodes are directly related to a nervous system overload, mental health challenges, or ‘typical’ teenage behaviour.

Research from King’s College London (2025) on 735 adolescents found:

• Autistic and ADHD adolescents experienced twice the emotional burden from common school stressors compared to neurotypical peers
• They reported more intense emotional reactions and higher frequency of distressing events
• Emotional burden was directly linked to dysregulation, which can drive escalated behaviours at home, including aggression

Although not exclusively neurodivergent statistics, these figures contextualise the scale of CPVA where neurodivergence is frequently cited by families as a factor:

• 40% of families affected by CPVA do not report it, according to research by London’s Violence Reduction Unit
• In police domestic abuse incidents, involving suspects under 18 years of age, 64-67% involved CPVA
• Youth offending caseloads show a 21-27% prevalence of CPVA

According to the Michael Sieff Foundation (2025) review:

• 80% of cautioned or sentenced children in youth justice have special educational needs and disabilities (SEND) and/or neurodivergence
• Neurodivergent children enter custody earlier, are more frequently excluded, and receive longer sentences
• Professionals report significant challenges managing behaviour linked to communication difficulties, emotional dysregulation, and unmet neurodevelopmental needs

A 2025 Healthwatch Central Bedfordshire focus group found:

• Amongst parents experiencing CPVA, over half were caring for neurodivergent children (autism/ADHD)
• Families described patterns of meltdowns, shutdowns, and distress behaviours escalating into violence

Neurodiversity Support UK reports that conditions such as ADHD, autism and pathological demand avoidance (PDA) frequently involve:

• Rapid emotional escalation
• Intense reactions
• Loss of behavioural control when overwhelmed

Employers who design predictable flexibility, rather than ad hoc exceptions are better placed to retain skilled staff and prevent their burnout. Employers who understand the connection between neurodivergent conditions and CPVA make life much more manageable for those parents trying to navigate difficulties.

We have put together an A-Z guide which details elements of CPVA, alongside some practical support tips for parents and for operational staff who may happen across incidents involving members of the public.

More information on CPVA and links to external support services can be found on the following websites:

• Respect
• College of Policing
• NHS

This blog was originally published on the Northamptonshire Police intranet – it is reproduced here with kind permission of the author

My battle with self-perception

by Daley Jones
Co-Chair | ADHD Alliance

One of the biggest fights I battle with every single day is self-esteem. More specifically, the terrible way I perceive myself and my inability to recognise my achievements professionally and in my personal life.

What follows is a list of things that I have achieved, or contributed significantly to, since I was diagnosed with ADHD. I’d like to be clear – this is not me boasting. The point will become clear…

• Co-Founder and Co-Chair of the ADHD Alliance, the national ADHD support group for police officers and staff. As of February 2025 (our third anniversary) we have 1,721 members nationwide.
• Co-written ADHD in Custody with the amazing people from Neurodiversity in Law. The guide has been adopted by Cumbria Constabulary and is present in their custody centres. It is also an educational resource by the national appropriate adult network (NAAN).
• Completed over 100 hours of ADHD/neurodiversity awareness sessions – reaching thousands of people both inside and outside of policing.
• In 2024 I won the NPCC Disability in Policing Disability Advocate of The Year Award and won the Disability Category in the Metropolitan Police Diversity and Inclusion Awards in the same year.

There are other things, but you get the point. I’ve done quite a lot. And I am proud.

But let me tell you, I still think very poorly of myself. At this point in my life, thinking poorly of myself has become second nature. I will give you some examples.

A good friend of mine has been helping me prepare for an internal interview. He said to me, “Oh and another thing, I know it’s very ‘you’ but try to cut down on the self-depreciation whilst in interview, you are supposed to be selling yourself”. My initial reaction was, “Good advice that, I do this often”. But when I stopped for a moment and thought about it, I was hit with a wave of sadness.

“This is what people see. And what I put out to the wider world.”

I often meet officers of senior rank. I sometimes leave these meetings with the genuine belief: “These people don’t care what you have to say, why would they?” I’ll moan to friends, saying “They don’t take me seriously”. I am grateful that some of these friends who have been present in said meetings will tell me: “I don’t know why you think that. What you were saying made sense, and I’m pretty sure the others were listening to you quite intently.”

My default position in life. The voice that always turns up first in my head and says: “YOU ARE NOT GOOD ENOUGH”.

You might ask why this might be? Especially when there are numerous occasions where there is no actual evidence for my poor self-perception. Well. I’m no expert. But this is my theory.

I wasn’t diagnosed with ADHD until I was 36. I was further diagnosed with dyspraxia (DCD) at 37. I’ve lived the majority of my life not understanding why I was not necessarily able to do the things my neurotypical friends and colleagues could do with relative ease. At school I was frequently told off for mucking around. At university, I was incapable of doing any of my coursework until about a day before it was due. This led to all-nighters and often missing deadlines. It didn’t help my self-image that my friend and housemate did the same course. We’d both get the coursework, get the books from the library, and sit down to start the work weeks before the deadline. Except my brain said, “Mate, you’ve got ages… pub?” I’d see him relaxing around the deadline and ask, “Why can’t I do this? I must be lazy, incompetent, and stupid.

I often tell people that I think my dyspraxia has probably caused me even more self-esteem damage than my ADHD. I love taking part in sport and competition. But if there was technique involved in anything, I was incapable of getting it. I tried and failed, tried and failed. It got to a point where I stopped trying. I called in sick for three sports days in a row because I’d always be put forward for the high jump. No one else wanted to do it, and I was ‘tall’. But anyone who’s tried the high jump knows it’s the technique that’s the key – something I could never master.

I love and have always loved playing football. I still do, but if you were to play with me, you’d hear me mutter or shout at myself “Stupid”, “You idiot” and “How did you miss that?” As I say, I’m tall, six feet five inches. Therefore, in football there’s a perception that I’ll be good in the air and able to make a decent keeper. But I can never get my timing or sequencing right. And would frequently find myself unable to judge a header. I often joke, that when I play in goal, by the time my brain has worked out where a ball is travelling and have got my body to react accordingly, the ball is already in the net.

Immediately after being diagnosed with ADHD I started to meet fellow ADHD-ers. Amongst the many shared experiences, I kept meeting people who are incredibly creative. Artists, painters, graphic designers. It started to make me feel there was something wrong with me. My fine motor skills are appalling. If you have ever been lucky enough to have received a present from me, you would probably and quite naturally assume I had gotten one of my children to wrap it. Sellotape everywhere, too much paper here, not enough there. Once, famously, on a cruise, I stood in front of a mirror trying to do up a bow tie, with a YouTube video on showing how it was done. I eventually had to call room service, and a very kind member of hospitality staff came and did it for me.

I can’t do technical DIY tasks. I’m not a believer in ‘men’s jobs’ and ‘women’s jobs’, but society still seems very keen to categorise them. Trust me, I’m lucky that my lovely wife is a dab hand. We often laugh when we’ve had workmen in the house. They always make a bee-line for me to explain the technical stuff. I sigh and point them towards my wife. “She’s the practical one mate” I sigh.

I am afraid all of this has had its effect over time. And this conditioning and experience of my life is what I am fighting against. I’ve always said that my ADHD and dyspraxia diagnoses are ranked in my list of ‘happiest days of my life’. It’s because in those moments, I was finally able to say, “It’s not all your fault buddy”.

To end this on a slightly more cheerful and hopeful note – my perception of myself now, following my diagnoses, is CONSIDERABLY better than it has ever been.

After being diagnosed I finally got to a point where I felt ‘worthy’ of applying for positions I had previously thought I wasn’t good enough to apply for. I also put myself forward for my sergeant’s exam. I have been successful in both.

I have recently been attending a self-esteem support group run by NHS Buckinghamshire Talking Therapies. Whilst I am still unsure of CBT as a concept, for me it has been invaluable in helping me to realise I am not alone in my experiences. What is hard for friends, family and colleagues to understand is that rationally I am fully aware of my achievements, my strengths and the immense good I try to give daily.

It’s a cliché, but I feel I am on a journey. I can see the progress I have made in these four years. I am hopeful I can continue this trajectory. And maybe one day I can think of myself as the person that people continue to tell me I am. A good person. Who is loved, and respected. ∎

This blog was originally written for the ADHD Alliance – it is reproduced here with kind permission of the author