For me, and for many neurodivergent people, the way we interact with technology isn’t just a matter of preference. It’s about accessibility, functionality, and ease-of-use in a world that too often ignores our needs. People like me who aren’t great at coordination or balance, and who have Autism, ADHD, Asperger’s, or Dyspraxia, struggle to use “simplified” products.

Take Apple’s mouse design as a prime example. For decades, Apple has stubbornly clung to its minimalist, single-button mouse philosophy. This is touted as “elegant” and “intuitive”, but only if you’re a neurotypical user. For me, it’s a physical and cognitive hurdle. A standard two-button mouse is fine. I can use it comfortably, quickly, and with minimal fuss. But Apple’s approach? It slows me down, introduces errors, and makes me feel like the device is actively working against me… like it was built for someone else and deliberately ignores how I use tech..

Apple’s design philosophy has long championed aesthetics over function and simplicity over nuance. But simplicity for whom?

The company talks a big game about accessibility, but its decisions often cater to a narrow band of users, those who fall within a certain neurotypical, physically typical experience. Their products look nice. They feel premium. But if you fall even slightly outside their target demographic, they become difficult, frustrating, or downright unusable.

To put it bluntly, Apple designs for idiot-proof use by neurotypical users. But in doing so, they make it much harder for those of us who aren’t neurotypical or who have physical differences that don’t align with their vision of a “universal user.”

Neurodivergent people, including those with autism, ADHD, dyspraxia, dyslexia, and more, often rely on clarity, customisability, and physical feedback. Apple removes options, buries settings, and flattens everything into the same experience for everyone. That might work for some. It doesn’t work for us.

And let’s be real: we’re not a niche. Neurodivergent people make up a significant percentage of the global population. We are workers, thinkers, creators, and consumers. We deserve to be included, not just as an afterthought or a compliance checkbox, but from the very beginning of the design process.

This isn’t just my view. Across communities and platforms, others are saying the same thing. Designers like Craig Smith have argued that Apple’s so-called “intuitive” AI and UX design often fails to meet neurodivergent needs. Developers like Marcus Olsson have published workarounds just to make Apple’s accessibility features usable for people like us. Even Reddit threads regularly highlight how hardware like the Magic Mouse is awkward and alienating. The signal is clear: Apple is designing for a very narrow user base.

If Apple really wants to build “the world’s most accessible devices,” they need to do more than add VoiceOver or magnification tools. They need to question who they are really building for, and who they are leaving behind.

Because they’re not building for me and as far as can remember they never have.