m game. In increasing support for those with dyslexia, society moves toward a position where those with cognitive differences are assisted, rather than ostracised. Historically, campaigns for greater political awareness of dyslexia have not just helped those with dyslexia, but contributed to a social consensus that increasingly celebrates neurodiversity. Campaigns for other conditions, such as autism, have done the same. Together, these efforts raise the tide for all.
2. ‘Dyslexia’ is a term used for political reasons, rather than scientific reasons
Until the 1980s, successive governments in the UK refused to admit the existence of dyslexia. Research at the UK Dyslexia Archive, based at St John’s College, Oxford, has shown that this was for one principal reason: governments were unwilling to commit the financial resources required to address an issue that affects up to 10% of the population12. Such unwillingness reached a peak in the 1970s, when direct pressure from officials was placed on the late Baroness Warnock, chair of a review on special educational needs, to omit dyslexia from her final report13. In response to government intransigence, a highly-successful advocacy community was instituted from the 1960s, led by organisations like the British Dyslexia Association and campaigners like Marion Welchman. Together, these lobbied for government recognition of dyslexia, and so state support for those with such difficulties. The legacy of their success is the widespread support now available for people with dyslexia14.
Necessarily, this advocacy movement sought to bring attention to the dyslexia label. While the scientific basis of dyslexia was important to their cause, and cited frequently, their primary purpose was political. As such, the advocacy movement often used a more straightforward definition of dyslexia than that of the scientific community – an act necessary to achieve maximum recognition for the term, and to make it interpretable to non-specialists and policymakers. In this, they echoed the approach taken by other campaigns that have sought recognition, funding and so support for specific conditions – from cancer to depression. Detractors suggest that, because of these political associations, the term dyslexia is invalid – useful only to lobbyists. What such arguments ignore is that, like the examples above, dyslexia can be both: an emotive term, understood popularly and used politically, but also a clear and useful scientific concept. The two are not mutually exclusive.
3. Dyslexia was invented by ‘worried mothers’ to boost their children’s confidence
Historically, dyslexia has sometimes been described as invention of ‘worried mothers’, seeking to find a way to explain their children’s reading difficulties and so exonerate themselves from personal responsibility. Today, the idea that parents of children with dyslexia are over-anxious, and use the term for personal gain, occasionally resurfaces. The truth is more complex. While many of the key figures in campaigns for political recognition of dyslexia were women, such as Marion Welchman, Kathleen Hickey, Wendy Fisher, Helen Arkell, Bevé Hornsby and Jean Augur, amongst many others, some of whom had children with dyslexia, the campaign for political recognition of dyslexia has been one of perseverance, in which the latest science of reading has been drawn on for support. Moreover, rather assisting only their own children, such campaigners have been responsible for creating schools, organisations, and momentum for government recognition of dyslexia, which has benefited a breadth of people with the condition. Mothers did not invent dyslexia, but they were amongst the first to notice it, and the first to deal with it15.
4. The terms ‘dyslexia’, ‘dyspraxia’ and ‘ADHD’ are interchangeable
Dyslexia, in common with other neurodevelopmental disorders, often co-occurs with other difficulties that affect learning. These include dyspraxia, which affects motor learning, and attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD), which affects concentration and other skills. Some