I'm not at all surprised. Back when I was researching my book on music, Beethoven's Anvil, I came across a book by Russell Barkley, ADHD and the Nature of Self Control (1997) which interested me because was about executive control, which is quite important in musical behavior. Barkeley argued that ADHAD does not involved inattention as much it involves poor self-control, which Barkley argues is a failure of some central executive function. In turn, Barkley asserts that the
. . . nature of this central executive . . . is time. More specifically, it is the conjecturing of the future that arises out of reconstruction of the past and the goal-directed behaviors that are predicated on these activities. Such activities . . . permit self-regulation relative to time. (p, 202)
Barkley goes on to point out that “time is an integral, inseparable part of the physical world” (p. 204), that “our will, therefore is . . . at time’s beck and call” (p. 205) and thus that “time, timing, and timeliness . . . become important concepts in understanding . . . goal-directed behavior and in determining it” (p. 209).
Musical performances are, of course, exquisitely timed. My thinking about music, however, seems different in kind from Barkley’s thinking about ADHD (he never mentions music or music therapy in his book) and more like the various holistic points of view one finds on ADHD, especially in the popular literature. That notwithstanding, my views on music are thoroughly materialist and grounded in neurobiology and neuropsychology. Those views may not be correct, but they operate in a conceptual universe much like Barkley’s. Once my book on music was well and done I decided to take a closer look at ADHD. But let's skip that for now.
Let's look at a NYTimes article: Paul Tough, Have We Been Thinking About A.D.H.D. All Wrong? NYTimes Magazine, April 13, 2025.
I’ve spent the last year speaking with some of the leading A.D.H.D. researchers in the United States and abroad, and many of them, like Swanson, express concern over what they see as a disconnect between the emerging scientific understanding of A.D.H.D. and the way the condition is being treated in clinics and doctors’ offices. Edmund Sonuga-Barke, a researcher in psychiatry and neuroscience at King’s College London, described the situation in personal terms. “I’ve invested 35 years of my life trying to identify the causes of A.D.H.D., and somehow we seem to be farther away from our goal than we were when we started,” he told me. “We have a clinical definition of A.D.H.D. that is increasingly unanchored from what we’re finding in our science.”
Despite the questions these scientists have begun to raise, the growth of the diagnosis shows no signs of stopping or even slowing down. Last year, the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention reported that 11.4 percent of American children had been diagnosed with A.D.H.D., a record high. That figure includes 15.5 percent of American adolescents, 21 percent of 14-year-old boys and 23 percent of 17-year-old boys. Seven million American children have received an A.D.H.D. diagnosis, up from six million in 2016 and two million in the mid-1990s.
It's time to rethink things:
That ever-expanding mountain of pills rests on certain assumptions: that A.D.H.D. is a medical disorder that demands a medical solution; that it is caused by inherent deficits in children’s brains; and that the medications we give them repair those deficits. Scientists who study A.D.H.D. are now challenging each one of those assumptions — and uncovering new evidence for the role of a child’s environment in the progression of his symptoms. They don’t question the very real problems that lead families to seek treatment for A.D.H.D., but many believe that our current approach isn’t doing enough to help — and that we can do better. But first, they say, we need to rethink many of our old ideas about the disorder and begin looking at A.D.H.D. anew.
Moreover:
Now, however, some scientists have begun to argue that the traditional conception of A.D.H.D. as an unchanging, essential fact about you — something you simply have or don’t have, something wired deep in your brain — is both inaccurate and unhelpful. According to Sonuga-Barke, the British researcher, the traditional notion that there is a natural category of “people with A.D.H.D.” that clinicians can objectively measure and define “just doesn’t seem to be the case.”
Accurately diagnosing A.D.H.D. can be challenging, for a number of reasons. Unlike with diabetes, there is no reliable biological test for A.D.H.D. The diagnostic criteria in the D.S.M. often require subjective judgment, and historically those criteria have been quite fluid, shifting with each revision of the manual. The diagnosis encompasses a wide variety of behaviors. There are two main kinds of A.D.H.D., inattentive and hyperactive/impulsive, and children in one category often seem to have little in common with children in the other. There are people with A.D.H.D. whom you can’t get to stop talking and others whom you can’t get to start. Some are excessively eager and enthusiastic; others are irritable and moody.
It's hard to find ADHD in the brain:
o the surprise of many, when Hoogman and her team published their results in 2017, they claimed that the data, in fact, showed the opposite, conclusively demonstrating the biological nature of A.D.H.D.: “We confirm, with high-powered analysis, that patients with A.D.H.D. have altered brains; therefore A.D.H.D. is a disorder of the brain,” the researchers wrote. “This message is clear for clinicians to convey to parents and patients, which can help to reduce the stigma of A.D.H.D. and improve understanding of the disorder.”
When I interviewed Hoogman by email recently, I was surprised to learn that she now wishes she could have revised that statement. “Back then, we emphasized the differences that we found (although small), but you can also conclude that the subcortical and cortical volumes of people with A.D.H.D. and those without A.D.H.D. are almost identical,” she wrote. In retrospect, she added, it wasn’t fitting to conclude from her findings that A.D.H.D. is a brain disorder. “The A.D.H.D. neurobiology is so much more complex than that.”
Sonuga-Barke goes further, arguing that the entire decades-long quest for a biomarker has been “a red herring” for the field.
One prominent researcher has concluded that the standard treatment for ADHD, with stimulants, doesn't work:
After three decades of studying stimulants, Swanson differs with many of his colleagues on their value. “I don’t agree with people who say that stimulant treatment is good,” he told me. “It’s not good.” He acknowledges that medication can often produce short-term improvements in children’s behavior. But, he says, “there is no long-term effect. The only long-term effect that I know of has been the suppression of growth. If you’re honest, you should tell kids that, look, if you’re interested in next week or next month or even the next year, this is the right treatment for you. But in the long run, you’re going to be shorter. How many kids would agree to take medication? Probably none.”
Whoops!
