What is ADHD Tax?
As you can imagine, difficulties with planning, organising, emotional control, working memory, impulse control, time blindness and concentration make managing our finances an uphill struggle.
Examples of ADHD Tax
In short, ADHD is expensive. There are so many examples, I hardly know where to start but, since food is on my mind, let’s start there. A few years ago, recognising that meal planning is a personal struggle, I decided to get organised and make some “special stuff” for my breakfasts. I created my own nutritional breakfast mix: seeds, nuts, dried fruit… everything I needed to fuel my day efficiently, all mixed together in a huge, air-tight bucket. When it comes to food, I don’t do things by half. The plan was to find a workaround that would ensure that I was getting at least some nutrition on the days when hyperfocus prevented me from eating lunch.
Of course, making a month’s supply of muesli and forming the habit of eating it daily are two very different things. By the time I remembered my best laid plans, the contents of the bucket had gone mouldy. Apparently air-tight buckets are only air-tight if you secure the lid properly. Not sure what happened but I assume I was distracted by… something that day. I probably planned on replacing the lid the next day. After all, I had been eating my healthy breakfast daily for weeks at this point. Surely it was a habit? Unfortunately, for me, habits do not “grow” where they are planted. All it takes is a gentle breeze and they wither and die on the vine. A weekend break, a stressful week… any slight change to my routine would have been enough to erase any memory of my miraculous muesli.
You’ve heard the expression “money down the drain” – well in this case, it was money in the bin. All I could do was mourn yet another brainwave as I buried it in the life hack plot, in the Great Idea Graveyard in the pit of my stomach.
Food waste is the tip of the ADHD tax iceberg:
- I’m forever replacing lost items at my own cost. Phone chargers are my speciality but the most devastating loss was the mouth guard that stops me grinding my teeth at night. I still haven’t replaced it and I’m dreading the day when I have to foot the dentist bill.
- I might not remember signing up to a subscription, or I let trial periods lapse because of my time blindness.
- I buy items I already own. This is a particular risk for anything that lives in a cupboard and is used infrequently, like sunglasses, hats and other seasonal clothing.
- I have to pay late fees and fines when time escapes me or I misplace a notice telling me to do so. I haven’t borrowed a library book in years because of the fees I owe.
- Like many other ADHDers, I can be impulsive with my spending – particularly when a special interest is involved.
- My brain isn’t always up to planning and multi-step processes, and I have to pay the price for “convenience”. This can take the form of taxi rides when I am too overwhelmed to work out a journey on public transport or set off too late.
- I have multiple bank accounts, all of which were set up to try to organise my finances but which, in reality, mean that I don’t know which account my direct debits are going out of. Constantly moving money from one account to another has led to being flagged as a potential money launderer and having all of my funds blocked, resulting in more debt.
- From Adobe Acrobat to Otter AI, I’m always trying out new tech or upgrading to paid versions to try to mitigate my working memory problems.
- My student loan is in arrears because I forgot to defer a few years ago. Even though I am old enough to write off the loan, I cannot do so because of the arrears.
- I NEVER return clothes or claim refunds (e.g. for a late train). Ever.
- The guilt over forgetting a birthday leads me to overcompensate with expensive gifts or pay a premium for next-day delivery.
- At work, my hyperfocus means I often spend far longer and put far more effort into tasks when required – much more than what I’m being paid for.
- When travelling I have frequently had to buy new train or air tickets due to getting the date wrong. I often have to buy new clothes when I arrive because my suitcase contains everything except what I actually need. On one hiking holiday, not only did I have to buy appropriate clothes, to add insult to injury, I also had to post superfluous items back home.
Like many others, I have spent thousands of pounds on ineffective therapy modalities which were doomed to fail.
“You know you have ADHD when you go to sign up to a gym, only to be told you’re already a member”
Source: I’ve forgotten
Shame, finances and ADHD
In a world where managing a budget is seen as synonymous with adulthood, it’s hard to live with the guilt and shame of our financial mismanagement – especially as you can quite literally put a number on our deficits. And this is one deficit that cannot be easily masked. You can only avoid the phone calls with creditors for so long. Eventually keeping the lights on means sharing your shame with the world (or at least with your parents).
Navigating executive dysfunction during a cost of living crisis
Things are getting better, not worse. When times were good, many of us could absorb the financial costs and rely on our overdrafts. In this economy, our executive dysfunction may very well mean the difference between paying our rent or not. In an information economy, we may not even realise we are in trouble before it is too late. Remembering passwords and navigating OTPs is bad enough, but with companies using multiple channels of communication it’s often hard to know whether the notice will arrive on the doormat or in my spam folder. And when it does, will I ever be able to find it again before the clock runs out?
ADHD tax and the social model of disability
Rather than asking “What is wrong with us? Why can’t we manage our finances properly?”, we need to ask “What is it about the system, process or environment that makes managing financial management harder?” We are not impaired by our conditions, but by the barriers created by society. This is called the “Social model of disability”, and this is how it applies to ADHD tax:
1. Replacement costs
The system assumes I won’t lose essential items often because, well, they’re essential. But I do. It also assumes I can plan and replace them effectively. I pay extra for the convenience of replacing items quickly, often at a higher cost.
2. Subscriptions and trial periods
Subscription models rely on memory, time awareness, and proactive cancellation. For people with time blindness, these designs create predictable financial leakage rather than informed consent.
3. Duplicate purchases
Retailers and subscription providers assume I can remember what I’ve bought from them, even when it was months ago. That there’s no need to provide any proactive reminders or memory aids. I pay the penalty for having to make what is essentially an avoidable purchase.
4. Late fees and fines
Late fees and penalties are triggered by missed notices or deadlines, often (poorly) communicated once and in a single format. These systems penalise executive-function differences rather than support completion.
5. Impulsive spending
Spending linked to ADHD impulsivity is amplified by frictionless purchasing, targeted marketing, and urgency cues — systems explicitly designed to bypass deliberation.
6. Paying for “convenience”
When systems require planning, sequencing and sustained attention, I’m forced to pay more for simplified or faster options. This is not preference; it is an access cost.
7. Work and hyperfocus
In the workplace, hyperfocus is rewarded informally but not structurally. I often provide significantly more labour, time, and cognitive effort, with no mechanism to recognise or rebalance that cost.
Understanding and Reducing ADHD Tax: Take Action Today
ADHD tax isn’t about laziness, poor planning, or personal failure – it’s a predictable consequence of systems, processes, and environments that assume neurotypical ways of thinking, remembering, and organising. By reframing these challenges through the social model of disability, we can see that the “costs” associated with ADHD arise not from the individual, but from the way society, workplaces and financial systems are designed.
Understanding the systemic nature of ADHD tax allows us to replace shame and self-blame with insight and action – turning predictable challenges into opportunities for better service design, support and inclusion.
But as well as recognising ADHD tax, we need to apply practical solutions: flexible policies, accessible communications, proactive reminders and thoughtful adjustments that can reduce these extra costs and make systems fairer for everyone.
If your organisation wants to better understand neurodivergence, reduce systemic barriers and create inclusive processes that work for all employees and customers, I can help. As a neuroinclusion consultant, I work with financial services and other organisations to design systems, policies and practices that support neurodivergent talent and clients.
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