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ADHD For Dummies
Demystify ADHD with simple explanations of the basics and the latest research Attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD) is one of the most globally prevalent neurodevelopmental disorders. ADHD For Dummies explores living a healthy and fulfilling life with ADHD, from seeking diagnosis to choosing the right treatment path for you or your loved one. You’ll read about the latest in ADHD research, equipping you with valuable knowledge as you care for a child with ADHD or explore your own ADHD symptoms as an adult. This book provides the answers you need on how to deal with day-to-day challenges at home, school, and work, and how to find support and counseling. With appropriate management, anyone can live a great life with ADHD. This is the perfect Dummies guide for both parents of children with ADHD and adults with ADHD looking to learn more. Teachers, counselors, and therapists―this is also a great resource to educate yourself and your clients.
352 pages, Paperback
Published March 6, 2024
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Displaying 1 - 5 of 5 reviews
April 9, 2026
I picked up this book to see if I could recommend it to one of my students who thinks he has ADHD. It is riddled with pseudoscience, dedicating 3 entire chapters (a full 50 pages) to some of the most abject pseudoscience that exists (such as homeopathy, which contradicts basic physics itself).
In chapter 4, there is an extremely ironic statement, considering the entire chapter dedicated to taking supplements, which are entirely unregulated in the US, Canada, and most other countries and every time there is an audit or study examining what is them, the results show substances not declared on the label (including prescription drugs), dosages wildly different (sometimes with the target substance being completely absent and other times at 100 times the dosage indicated), and misleading or false claims about what the product can do. Most are not tested at all for either safety or efficacy. That doesn't prevent the authors of this book listing out these untested, unregulated, and unproven supplements to take. Yet they caution against street drugs: "getting any consistency by using street drugs to try to deal with ADHD is impossible because you never know what’s in them, and you don’t know how strong they are." This is literally the case with every supplement and "alternative" or "natural" health product for sale in North America.
Promoting these treatments is harmful because they can delay effective ADHD care and expose people to unnecessary risks. Restrictive elimination diets can cause serious nutritional deficiencies. Supplements mentioned in the chapter can be dangerous: St. John’s wort can interact with antidepressants and many other medications, and vinpocetine has FDA warnings for possible fetal harm. Electrical brain-stimulation devices can cause headaches, burns, and other side effects, especially with unsupervised home use. Spinal manipulation therapies have rare but serious risks such as arterial injury and stroke. Many of the other methods described also cost large amounts of money despite lacking reliable evidence of benefit.
Chapter 11:
This chapter presents a long list of diets, supplements, and environmental explanations for ADHD while repeatedly admitting that the research is weak. That is the core problem. It says “definitive research doesn’t exist,” “little scientific research has been conducted,” and many of these approaches are only “anecdotally effective,” but it still spends pages encouraging readers to consider them. That is not a careful evidence-based chapter. It is a chapter that lowers the standard of proof and then fills the gap with suggestion and personal testimony. For example, the chapter treats omega-3s as if they are broadly helpful for ADHD, but major evidence reviews say the evidence is inconclusive, and Cochrane found no meaningful benefit on key parent-rated ADHD outcomes.
The food sensitivity section is one of the weakest parts. It tells readers that “many people with ADHD” may be sensitive to gluten, dairy, corn, eggs, citrus, preservatives, and dyes, and it recommends elimination diets and “special tests” including the VEGA test. That is a serious problem because the VEGA test is not a validated method for diagnosing food allergy, and allergy guidelines specifically identify electrodermal testing like Vega as lacking evidence of diagnostic value. A chapter should not place an unvalidated test next to legitimate methods in a way that makes it sound acceptable.
Its discussion of sugar and simple carbohydrates is also much more confident than the evidence allows. The chapter says refined carbohydrates can produce “exactly the types of symptoms that appear in ADHD,” and it leans on the idea of a “sugar rush” followed by worse concentration. That is not a settled finding. Research reviews have found little or no evidence that sugar causes behavioral or cognitive changes in children, and the claim that sugar straightforwardly drives ADHD-type symptoms is far too definite for the evidence base.
The section on “balancing your body’s yeast” is worse. It claims that candida imbalance and “dysbiosis” can produce ADHD-like symptoms such as fuzzy thinking and inattention, then suggests anti-candida diets, homeopathic or herbal candida remedies, and finding clinicians who recognize “systemic candidiasis.” That is not supported responsibly. Allergy guidance has specifically rejected the so-called Candida hypersensitivity syndrome as unproven. A consumer book should not be presenting this kind of speculation as a meaningful explanation for ADHD-like symptoms.
The supplement section has the same pattern throughout: broad claims, weak proof, and scattered safety warnings that do not fix the underlying problem. St. John’s wort is presented as something that some people with ADHD find helpful, yet a randomized controlled trial found it did not improve ADHD symptoms over 8 weeks. Valerian is described as helpful for sleep and said not to cause morning grogginess, but authoritative reviews say the evidence for valerian and sleep is inconsistent and its value for insomnia has not been demonstrated.
The vinpocetine section is especially careless. The chapter presents vinpocetine as relevant to ADHD because it may increase blood flow in the brain and dopamine levels, but this is exactly the kind of supplement that needed much stronger caution. FDA has warned that vinpocetine may cause miscarriage or harm fetal development and advises pregnant women and women who could become pregnant not to take it. A chapter encouraging readers to explore supplement treatment should not treat a product with that kind of safety warning as just another item in a list.
There is also a broader structural problem with the whole chapter: it talks about supplements as though careful shopping and professional advice are enough to make this category trustworthy. They are not. FDA does not approve dietary supplements for safety and effectiveness before they are marketed. So when the chapter advises readers to seek “reliable sources” and consult professionals, that does not solve the underlying issue that these products do not go through the same premarket review standard as medicines.
The environmental sections have the same evidentiary weakness. The chapter repeatedly suggests that allergens, dust, mold, pets, fragrances, plastics, synthetic fabrics, and building materials can worsen ADHD symptoms, often by causing “brain fog,” scattered thinking, or concentration problems. Some of these exposures can certainly affect health in general, but the chapter does not distinguish clearly between causing allergy symptoms, causing nonspecific discomfort, and worsening ADHD itself. It keeps sliding from “this can bother some people” to “this may aggravate ADHD” without showing strong evidence for that link. That leaves readers with a large set of expensive, disruptive, and often speculative interventions, presented with much more confidence than the evidence justifies.
Chapter 12:
This chapter is not a careful review of evidence. It repeatedly acknowledges that these methods “don’t have the extensive research that pharmaceuticals have,” but then presents them in a way that still encourages confidence. The neurofeedback section says the therapy has been “studied extensively for many years,” says it can improve impulsivity, hyperactivity, attention, sleep, and mood regulation, and suggests many people maintain gains for years. That presentation is much stronger than the best-controlled evidence supports. A 2025 meta-analysis found that probably blinded reports showed no significant improvement in total ADHD symptoms with neurofeedback, and its authors concluded that trials using probably blinded outcomes do not support neurofeedback as a stand-alone ADHD treatment. NCCIH also states that the evidence for neurofeedback in ADHD is mixed and notably weaker when more effectively blinded ratings are considered.
The section on Rhythmic Entrainment Intervention is worse because the chapter presents a proprietary method created by a coauthor, claims that “research has consistently shown” positive effects, and then sends readers to that coauthor’s own commercial and institutional websites for information and access. That is not a neutral presentation. It is a conflict of interest written directly into the chapter. The text then attributes a wide range of benefits to REI, including improved attention, reduced distractibility and impulsivity, better learning, improved mood regulation, improved social abilities, and increased language abilities, while also claiming there should be no side effects if the program is followed properly. Those are broad clinical claims, but the chapter does not provide robust independent evidence for them here. The broader literature on music and ADHD does not support this level of confidence: a 2023 systematic review found mixed effects depending on the form of music and task, and specifically reported that binaural sound reduced attention in people with ADHD in one included study.
The Tomatis and auditory integration sections are presented much too credulously. The chapter says these sound-based therapies can improve language, reduce sound sensitivity, reduce hyperactivity, increase attention span, and reduce distractibility, and it describes the results as often appearing within a few weeks and generally lasting long term. But auditory integration and Tomatis-style methods have a long history of weak evidence and exaggerated claims. A review on controversial ADHD treatments concluded there was no scientific evidence supporting sound training, including the Tomatis method, as a treatment modality for ADHD. More broadly, policies and evidence reviews have continued to state that evidence does not support auditory integration training as a clinical intervention. This chapter does not communicate that weakness clearly enough.
The binaural beats section has the same problem. It states that binaural beats are “known to help” increase attention span and improve memory, while also describing them as a common option people can just try from online producers and playlists. That overstates the evidence. The literature on binaural beats is inconsistent, and the ADHD-specific evidence is thin. The systematic review on music and ADHD cited above found a study in which binaural beats negatively affected sustained attention in people with ADHD. A broader 2023 systematic review of binaural beats also examined claims about brain entrainment and psychological effects because the evidence base remains unsettled. This chapter does not reflect that uncertainty when it tells readers what binaural beats are “known to help.”
The electrical brain stimulation section is also more confident than the evidence allows. The chapter says studies show tDCS, tACS, and tRNS seem to produce similar results, and lists increased attention, less impulsivity, improved cognitive flexibility, and improved memory. It also says in-office treatments “tend to offer better, longer-term results.” The actual evidence base is still limited and methodologically uneven. Earlier meta-analytic work found only limited evidence that a small number of rTMS and tDCS sessions improved clinical or cognitive measures of ADHD. More recent reviews are still trying to determine whether any benefits are reliable, and a 2025 review in adults was still framed as an evaluation of effects rather than settled proof. The chapter presents an emerging field as if its clinical usefulness is already established. On top of that, its regulatory discussion is outdated now: as of December 2025, the FDA had approved a home-use tDCS device for major depressive disorder, not ADHD.
The TMS section has the same problem. The chapter says people with ADHD “seem to experience improvements” in attention, hyperactivity, impulsivity, and co-occurring conditions, even though it also admits TMS is not FDA-approved for ADHD. Recent evidence remains mixed and limited. A 2025 systematic review and meta-analysis found that TMS did not immediately improve total ADHD symptom scores, while another 2025 meta-analysis reported a significant effect but explicitly cautioned that the sample size was limited. That is not a stable foundation for the chapter’s practical, consumer-facing guidance. The regulatory framing also needs much more care: FDA authorization for TMS has been for other indications, including major depression, migraine pain, OCD, and later smoking cessation, not ADHD. The chapter should have made the uncertainty and the off-label nature of this use much more explicit than it did.
The overall pattern in this chapter is consistent: it takes interventions with incomplete, mixed, or weak evidence and describes them in a way that makes them sound more clinically grounded than they are. It gives readers provider-finding advice, claims about expected benefits, time-to-effect, and durability of results, but it does not keep the strength of those claims aligned with the strength of the evidence. That is the central problem with this chapter. It is not simply discussing experimental approaches. It is presenting speculative or weakly supported approaches as though they are practical treatment options ready for ordinary consumer use.
Chapter 13:
This chapter openly tells the reader that most of these therapies “haven’t been adequately studied for their effectiveness for ADHD,” then spends the rest of the chapter encouraging them anyway. That is the central problem. The book keeps presenting speculative treatments as if they are plausible parts of a “multimodal treatment strategy,” even when the evidence is weak, mixed, or absent.
The acupuncture section is not credible. It treats qi, meridians, and “blockages” as though they are meaningful clinical explanations, then tries to soften that by saying there are “many theories” about how acupuncture might work. That does not fix the problem. Qi and meridians are traditional concepts, not established physiological structures. More importantly, the evidence for acupuncture in ADHD is not solid. NCCIH states that there is insufficient evidence to draw conclusions about the efficacy or safety of acupuncture for ADHD in children and adolescents, and a cited systematic review found only limited evidence. The book presents acupuncture much more favorably than the evidence justifies. 
The homeopathy section is worse. The chapter describes homeopathy’s core doctrine, “like heals like,” and repeats Hahnemann’s claim that the more diluted a solution is, the stronger the effects. Those are not scientifically established principles. The book then says the authors have “seen homeopathy work well for people with ADHD,” which is exactly the kind of anecdotal claim that should not be substituting for evidence. Major health authorities say there is no good-quality evidence that homeopathy is effective for any health condition, and NHS guidance explicitly says there is no evidence behind the idea that substances that cause symptoms can help treat them. A review focused on ADHD also found only little evidence for efficacy. This section is promoting a method whose basic claims are not supported. 
The manipulation-therapy section makes claims that are not supported by good evidence. It says some people believe misalignment and disrupted cerebrospinal-fluid flow can produce symptoms similar to ADHD, then presents chiropractic, osteopathy, and CranioSacral Therapy as plausible responses. That is a serious evidentiary problem. A systematic review found insufficient evidence to evaluate the efficacy of chiropractic care for pediatric ADHD. A Pediatrics systematic review concluded that the effectiveness of osteopathic manipulative treatment for pediatric conditions remains unproven because of the paucity and low methodological quality of the studies. The chapter presents these ideas as though they are reasonable clinical options for ADHD, but the evidence base does not support that level of confidence. 
The CranioSacral Therapy material is especially weak. The chapter presents “cranial rhythms” and adjustments of bones under the scalp as though this is a legitimate mechanism for improving ADHD-related symptoms. But pediatric guidance has stated that there is no evidence that craniosacral therapy has benefits beyond massage. The book gives readers a speculative mechanism and a provider directory, not reliable evidence. 
The sensory integration section is less overtly implausible than homeopathy, but it still overstates what is known. The chapter says many people with ADHD have some sensory processing dysfunction and describes sensory integration therapy as a common treatment route. The problem is that the American Academy of Pediatrics has specifically said that the amount of research on sensory integration therapy is limited and inconclusive. That is a much weaker position than the chapter’s practical, treatment-oriented framing suggests. 
The vision-therapy section is also misleading. It discusses behavioral optometry and the Irlen Method as though they are meaningful ways to improve ADHD-related attention, reading, and hyperactivity, and it repeats the idea that colored lenses or overlays can alleviate “scotopic sensitivity syndrome.” That is not supported by mainstream ophthalmology and pediatrics. The joint statement from the American Academy of Pediatrics, American Academy of Ophthalmology, and related groups states that scientific evidence does not support visual training, tracking exercises, behavioral vision therapy, or special tinted filters or lenses as effective treatments for learning disabilities, and says there is no valid evidence that children who participate in vision therapy are more responsive to educational instruction. The same guidance also states that visual problems are not the cause of primary dyslexia or learning disabilities. Studies on Irlen overlays have likewise found no demonstrable immediate effect on reading difficulties. The chapter presents these approaches as if they have a meaningful evidence base when major professional guidance says otherwise. 
Even where the chapter includes caveats, it still repeatedly nudges the reader toward weakly supported care. It does this by giving provider-finding advice, describing expected results, and normalizing mechanisms that are unproven or implausible. That is the recurring flaw across the whole chapter. It does not simply mention that these therapies exist. It presents them as serious treatment options for ADHD despite weak evidence, negative evidence, or no convincing scientific basis at all.
(Nate Tricowi)
In chapter 4, there is an extremely ironic statement, considering the entire chapter dedicated to taking supplements, which are entirely unregulated in the US, Canada, and most other countries and every time there is an audit or study examining what is them, the results show substances not declared on the label (including prescription drugs), dosages wildly different (sometimes with the target substance being completely absent and other times at 100 times the dosage indicated), and misleading or false claims about what the product can do. Most are not tested at all for either safety or efficacy. That doesn't prevent the authors of this book listing out these untested, unregulated, and unproven supplements to take. Yet they caution against street drugs: "getting any consistency by using street drugs to try to deal with ADHD is impossible because you never know what’s in them, and you don’t know how strong they are." This is literally the case with every supplement and "alternative" or "natural" health product for sale in North America.
Promoting these treatments is harmful because they can delay effective ADHD care and expose people to unnecessary risks. Restrictive elimination diets can cause serious nutritional deficiencies. Supplements mentioned in the chapter can be dangerous: St. John’s wort can interact with antidepressants and many other medications, and vinpocetine has FDA warnings for possible fetal harm. Electrical brain-stimulation devices can cause headaches, burns, and other side effects, especially with unsupervised home use. Spinal manipulation therapies have rare but serious risks such as arterial injury and stroke. Many of the other methods described also cost large amounts of money despite lacking reliable evidence of benefit.
Chapter 11:
This chapter presents a long list of diets, supplements, and environmental explanations for ADHD while repeatedly admitting that the research is weak. That is the core problem. It says “definitive research doesn’t exist,” “little scientific research has been conducted,” and many of these approaches are only “anecdotally effective,” but it still spends pages encouraging readers to consider them. That is not a careful evidence-based chapter. It is a chapter that lowers the standard of proof and then fills the gap with suggestion and personal testimony. For example, the chapter treats omega-3s as if they are broadly helpful for ADHD, but major evidence reviews say the evidence is inconclusive, and Cochrane found no meaningful benefit on key parent-rated ADHD outcomes.
The food sensitivity section is one of the weakest parts. It tells readers that “many people with ADHD” may be sensitive to gluten, dairy, corn, eggs, citrus, preservatives, and dyes, and it recommends elimination diets and “special tests” including the VEGA test. That is a serious problem because the VEGA test is not a validated method for diagnosing food allergy, and allergy guidelines specifically identify electrodermal testing like Vega as lacking evidence of diagnostic value. A chapter should not place an unvalidated test next to legitimate methods in a way that makes it sound acceptable.
Its discussion of sugar and simple carbohydrates is also much more confident than the evidence allows. The chapter says refined carbohydrates can produce “exactly the types of symptoms that appear in ADHD,” and it leans on the idea of a “sugar rush” followed by worse concentration. That is not a settled finding. Research reviews have found little or no evidence that sugar causes behavioral or cognitive changes in children, and the claim that sugar straightforwardly drives ADHD-type symptoms is far too definite for the evidence base.
The section on “balancing your body’s yeast” is worse. It claims that candida imbalance and “dysbiosis” can produce ADHD-like symptoms such as fuzzy thinking and inattention, then suggests anti-candida diets, homeopathic or herbal candida remedies, and finding clinicians who recognize “systemic candidiasis.” That is not supported responsibly. Allergy guidance has specifically rejected the so-called Candida hypersensitivity syndrome as unproven. A consumer book should not be presenting this kind of speculation as a meaningful explanation for ADHD-like symptoms.
The supplement section has the same pattern throughout: broad claims, weak proof, and scattered safety warnings that do not fix the underlying problem. St. John’s wort is presented as something that some people with ADHD find helpful, yet a randomized controlled trial found it did not improve ADHD symptoms over 8 weeks. Valerian is described as helpful for sleep and said not to cause morning grogginess, but authoritative reviews say the evidence for valerian and sleep is inconsistent and its value for insomnia has not been demonstrated.
The vinpocetine section is especially careless. The chapter presents vinpocetine as relevant to ADHD because it may increase blood flow in the brain and dopamine levels, but this is exactly the kind of supplement that needed much stronger caution. FDA has warned that vinpocetine may cause miscarriage or harm fetal development and advises pregnant women and women who could become pregnant not to take it. A chapter encouraging readers to explore supplement treatment should not treat a product with that kind of safety warning as just another item in a list.
There is also a broader structural problem with the whole chapter: it talks about supplements as though careful shopping and professional advice are enough to make this category trustworthy. They are not. FDA does not approve dietary supplements for safety and effectiveness before they are marketed. So when the chapter advises readers to seek “reliable sources” and consult professionals, that does not solve the underlying issue that these products do not go through the same premarket review standard as medicines.
The environmental sections have the same evidentiary weakness. The chapter repeatedly suggests that allergens, dust, mold, pets, fragrances, plastics, synthetic fabrics, and building materials can worsen ADHD symptoms, often by causing “brain fog,” scattered thinking, or concentration problems. Some of these exposures can certainly affect health in general, but the chapter does not distinguish clearly between causing allergy symptoms, causing nonspecific discomfort, and worsening ADHD itself. It keeps sliding from “this can bother some people” to “this may aggravate ADHD” without showing strong evidence for that link. That leaves readers with a large set of expensive, disruptive, and often speculative interventions, presented with much more confidence than the evidence justifies.
Chapter 12:
This chapter is not a careful review of evidence. It repeatedly acknowledges that these methods “don’t have the extensive research that pharmaceuticals have,” but then presents them in a way that still encourages confidence. The neurofeedback section says the therapy has been “studied extensively for many years,” says it can improve impulsivity, hyperactivity, attention, sleep, and mood regulation, and suggests many people maintain gains for years. That presentation is much stronger than the best-controlled evidence supports. A 2025 meta-analysis found that probably blinded reports showed no significant improvement in total ADHD symptoms with neurofeedback, and its authors concluded that trials using probably blinded outcomes do not support neurofeedback as a stand-alone ADHD treatment. NCCIH also states that the evidence for neurofeedback in ADHD is mixed and notably weaker when more effectively blinded ratings are considered.
The section on Rhythmic Entrainment Intervention is worse because the chapter presents a proprietary method created by a coauthor, claims that “research has consistently shown” positive effects, and then sends readers to that coauthor’s own commercial and institutional websites for information and access. That is not a neutral presentation. It is a conflict of interest written directly into the chapter. The text then attributes a wide range of benefits to REI, including improved attention, reduced distractibility and impulsivity, better learning, improved mood regulation, improved social abilities, and increased language abilities, while also claiming there should be no side effects if the program is followed properly. Those are broad clinical claims, but the chapter does not provide robust independent evidence for them here. The broader literature on music and ADHD does not support this level of confidence: a 2023 systematic review found mixed effects depending on the form of music and task, and specifically reported that binaural sound reduced attention in people with ADHD in one included study.
The Tomatis and auditory integration sections are presented much too credulously. The chapter says these sound-based therapies can improve language, reduce sound sensitivity, reduce hyperactivity, increase attention span, and reduce distractibility, and it describes the results as often appearing within a few weeks and generally lasting long term. But auditory integration and Tomatis-style methods have a long history of weak evidence and exaggerated claims. A review on controversial ADHD treatments concluded there was no scientific evidence supporting sound training, including the Tomatis method, as a treatment modality for ADHD. More broadly, policies and evidence reviews have continued to state that evidence does not support auditory integration training as a clinical intervention. This chapter does not communicate that weakness clearly enough.
The binaural beats section has the same problem. It states that binaural beats are “known to help” increase attention span and improve memory, while also describing them as a common option people can just try from online producers and playlists. That overstates the evidence. The literature on binaural beats is inconsistent, and the ADHD-specific evidence is thin. The systematic review on music and ADHD cited above found a study in which binaural beats negatively affected sustained attention in people with ADHD. A broader 2023 systematic review of binaural beats also examined claims about brain entrainment and psychological effects because the evidence base remains unsettled. This chapter does not reflect that uncertainty when it tells readers what binaural beats are “known to help.”
The electrical brain stimulation section is also more confident than the evidence allows. The chapter says studies show tDCS, tACS, and tRNS seem to produce similar results, and lists increased attention, less impulsivity, improved cognitive flexibility, and improved memory. It also says in-office treatments “tend to offer better, longer-term results.” The actual evidence base is still limited and methodologically uneven. Earlier meta-analytic work found only limited evidence that a small number of rTMS and tDCS sessions improved clinical or cognitive measures of ADHD. More recent reviews are still trying to determine whether any benefits are reliable, and a 2025 review in adults was still framed as an evaluation of effects rather than settled proof. The chapter presents an emerging field as if its clinical usefulness is already established. On top of that, its regulatory discussion is outdated now: as of December 2025, the FDA had approved a home-use tDCS device for major depressive disorder, not ADHD.
The TMS section has the same problem. The chapter says people with ADHD “seem to experience improvements” in attention, hyperactivity, impulsivity, and co-occurring conditions, even though it also admits TMS is not FDA-approved for ADHD. Recent evidence remains mixed and limited. A 2025 systematic review and meta-analysis found that TMS did not immediately improve total ADHD symptom scores, while another 2025 meta-analysis reported a significant effect but explicitly cautioned that the sample size was limited. That is not a stable foundation for the chapter’s practical, consumer-facing guidance. The regulatory framing also needs much more care: FDA authorization for TMS has been for other indications, including major depression, migraine pain, OCD, and later smoking cessation, not ADHD. The chapter should have made the uncertainty and the off-label nature of this use much more explicit than it did.
The overall pattern in this chapter is consistent: it takes interventions with incomplete, mixed, or weak evidence and describes them in a way that makes them sound more clinically grounded than they are. It gives readers provider-finding advice, claims about expected benefits, time-to-effect, and durability of results, but it does not keep the strength of those claims aligned with the strength of the evidence. That is the central problem with this chapter. It is not simply discussing experimental approaches. It is presenting speculative or weakly supported approaches as though they are practical treatment options ready for ordinary consumer use.
Chapter 13:
This chapter openly tells the reader that most of these therapies “haven’t been adequately studied for their effectiveness for ADHD,” then spends the rest of the chapter encouraging them anyway. That is the central problem. The book keeps presenting speculative treatments as if they are plausible parts of a “multimodal treatment strategy,” even when the evidence is weak, mixed, or absent.
The acupuncture section is not credible. It treats qi, meridians, and “blockages” as though they are meaningful clinical explanations, then tries to soften that by saying there are “many theories” about how acupuncture might work. That does not fix the problem. Qi and meridians are traditional concepts, not established physiological structures. More importantly, the evidence for acupuncture in ADHD is not solid. NCCIH states that there is insufficient evidence to draw conclusions about the efficacy or safety of acupuncture for ADHD in children and adolescents, and a cited systematic review found only limited evidence. The book presents acupuncture much more favorably than the evidence justifies. 
The homeopathy section is worse. The chapter describes homeopathy’s core doctrine, “like heals like,” and repeats Hahnemann’s claim that the more diluted a solution is, the stronger the effects. Those are not scientifically established principles. The book then says the authors have “seen homeopathy work well for people with ADHD,” which is exactly the kind of anecdotal claim that should not be substituting for evidence. Major health authorities say there is no good-quality evidence that homeopathy is effective for any health condition, and NHS guidance explicitly says there is no evidence behind the idea that substances that cause symptoms can help treat them. A review focused on ADHD also found only little evidence for efficacy. This section is promoting a method whose basic claims are not supported. 
The manipulation-therapy section makes claims that are not supported by good evidence. It says some people believe misalignment and disrupted cerebrospinal-fluid flow can produce symptoms similar to ADHD, then presents chiropractic, osteopathy, and CranioSacral Therapy as plausible responses. That is a serious evidentiary problem. A systematic review found insufficient evidence to evaluate the efficacy of chiropractic care for pediatric ADHD. A Pediatrics systematic review concluded that the effectiveness of osteopathic manipulative treatment for pediatric conditions remains unproven because of the paucity and low methodological quality of the studies. The chapter presents these ideas as though they are reasonable clinical options for ADHD, but the evidence base does not support that level of confidence. 
The CranioSacral Therapy material is especially weak. The chapter presents “cranial rhythms” and adjustments of bones under the scalp as though this is a legitimate mechanism for improving ADHD-related symptoms. But pediatric guidance has stated that there is no evidence that craniosacral therapy has benefits beyond massage. The book gives readers a speculative mechanism and a provider directory, not reliable evidence. 
The sensory integration section is less overtly implausible than homeopathy, but it still overstates what is known. The chapter says many people with ADHD have some sensory processing dysfunction and describes sensory integration therapy as a common treatment route. The problem is that the American Academy of Pediatrics has specifically said that the amount of research on sensory integration therapy is limited and inconclusive. That is a much weaker position than the chapter’s practical, treatment-oriented framing suggests. 
The vision-therapy section is also misleading. It discusses behavioral optometry and the Irlen Method as though they are meaningful ways to improve ADHD-related attention, reading, and hyperactivity, and it repeats the idea that colored lenses or overlays can alleviate “scotopic sensitivity syndrome.” That is not supported by mainstream ophthalmology and pediatrics. The joint statement from the American Academy of Pediatrics, American Academy of Ophthalmology, and related groups states that scientific evidence does not support visual training, tracking exercises, behavioral vision therapy, or special tinted filters or lenses as effective treatments for learning disabilities, and says there is no valid evidence that children who participate in vision therapy are more responsive to educational instruction. The same guidance also states that visual problems are not the cause of primary dyslexia or learning disabilities. Studies on Irlen overlays have likewise found no demonstrable immediate effect on reading difficulties. The chapter presents these approaches as if they have a meaningful evidence base when major professional guidance says otherwise. 
Even where the chapter includes caveats, it still repeatedly nudges the reader toward weakly supported care. It does this by giving provider-finding advice, describing expected results, and normalizing mechanisms that are unproven or implausible. That is the recurring flaw across the whole chapter. It does not simply mention that these therapies exist. It presents them as serious treatment options for ADHD despite weak evidence, negative evidence, or no convincing scientific basis at all.
(Nate Tricowi)
April 3, 2026
This book really didn't have anything useful for someone with ADHD, and as a clinical researcher I strongly disapprove of including entire chapters of unresearched and homeopathic remedies that are suggested to readers based completely on anectdotes and generalizations with literally no support. We are already drowning in nonsense and useless advice, and I would classify this as misinformation. I would have liked to see that there were some redeeming qualities at all - even the sections on practical tips simply amount to telling the reader to get organized, when the target audience is people dealing with ADHD. Repeatedly the advice is "...develop a system..." when I was hoping to find help in developing a system. I already know that I need a system, so that advice feels like a joke. Also, portions of the book are dedicated to generic advice about being aware of emotions and other things that seem like they are copied from a book for persons with Autism. Yes, there is some overlap in symptoms and populations, but it's just so lazy and unhelpful. In general, the book seems to fail to be helpful, provides misinformation on therapies, and the only helpful thing it suggests I can tell you for free; find and work with licensed professionals in counseling and psychiatry that are experienced in helping persons with ADHD. Just do that. Don't waste money or time on this book, seriously.
July 29, 2024
Thorough, informative, and I learned so much about ADHD treatments that I had never heard of. Thank you.
Want to Read
April 24, 2025SM
October 9, 2025
A comprehensive and practical guide to ADHD. Some aspects of the book are written from an American perspective. Nonetheless, a great starting point to delve deeper into ADHD.
Displaying 1 - 5 of 5 reviews