Psychologist Clare Rowe condemns $5bn school funding scheme that labels normal kids as ‘disabled’

Schools are getting $5bn a year from taxpayers to support disabled students – but in many cases parents don’t even know their child is included, writes psychologist Clare Rowe.

One million Australian children are now considered disabled. In some states, that’s more than one in four kids – a number that should make us stop and ask, how did we get here?

This quiet explosion in disability figures is costing federal taxpayers $5bn a year in school-based payments. And the fastest growing category? “Social and emotional disability” – a catch-all for issues affecting behaviour, mood, or judgment.

A decade ago, just 4 per cent of students were classified this way. Today, it’s closer to 10 per cent.

And this has nothing to do with the NDIS. This is separate funding, channelled directly to schools. Parents don’t see a cent.

Schools can receive up to $43,000 per child under this scheme. Yet parents are rarely consulted. Many don’t even know their child has been labelled “disabled” by their school. And crucially, they have no say in how the money is spent.

In many cases, the funding attached to a child isn’t even directed exclusively to them. Instead, it’s pooled within the classroom to pay for a teacher’s aide who may spend much of their time managing other children with behavioural problems that don’t attract any funding at all.

In practice, this means a child’s diagnosis is sometimes being leveraged as a way of securing additional support for the teacher, rather than ensuring that child receives the tailored assistance their funding was meant to provide.

As a psychologist, I know there are children with very real and serious needs – autism, trauma, behavioural disorders, anxiety and depression. But I also know from clinic rooms that not every restless, distracted or defiant child is “disabled”.

Somewhere along the way, the definition has been stretched so wide it risks losing all meaning. That’s not just a problem for taxpayers, it’s a problem for the children who genuinely need support.

Child and adolescent psychologist Clare Rowe argues the definition of disability has now been stretched so far it risks becoming meaningless.

Because despite billions flowing into schools, outcomes remain dire. A recent survey found six in 10 parents weren’t even involved in creating Individual Education Plans for their children. Those who were described them as “superficial and rarely put into practice.”

Nearly half of teachers admitted they lacked the training to support disabled students. And most damning of all, more than 70 per cent of students with disabilities are excluded from activities at school.

If this funding was working, shouldn’t we be seeing the opposite? More inclusion, more tailored support, better-trained teachers, more empowered parents? Instead, what families describe are tokenistic plans, exclusion from camps and sports, and classrooms still struggling to cope.

So where exactly is the money going? Federal disability funding to schools has almost tripled in the past decade. Private schools alone now receive $2 billion annually under this scheme. Yet principals say they don’t have enough resources, and parents say their kids are falling through the cracks.

Clare Rowe says the current system of disability funding in schools looks generous on paper but isn’t adequately helping the students most in need of support.

For families, the experience is often one of frustration. They don’t want their child labelled without consent. They don’t want glossy paperwork that gathers dust. They don’t want schools chasing funding streams while failing to provide genuine support.

They want their child to feel included, to be understood by teachers, and to receive the right help at the right time.

Right now, we have a system that looks generous on paper but, in practice, leaves too many families disillusioned and too many children unsupported.

I don’t doubt that teachers are under immense pressure. Nor do I deny the complex needs that some students bring into the classroom. But surely the measure of success isn’t how many children we can categorise. It’s whether those children are actually thriving at school.

At the moment, the evidence suggests they aren’t.

The bigger question is this: Who is asking why, at a time when we know more about child development and psychology than ever before, our children are being diagnosed as disabled in record numbers? Who is questioning why, in a wealthy first-world country like Australia, one million children now carry a disability label?

As governments keep funnelling more money into the system, we should be demanding to know why the numbers keep rising and whether this reflects genuine need – or a culture that is pathologising childhood itself.

Where does this leave us? At a crossroads. We can continue down the path of medicalising childhood, where fidgeting becomes a disorder and schools are rewarded for inflating numbers.

Or we can return to some common sense – recognising genuine disability while also remembering that sometimes kids just need discipline, structure, and high expectations.

If we are going to spend $5bn of taxpayer money every year, parents deserve transparency and results. They deserve honest reporting about where the money goes, properly trained teachers, and real partnership with families.

Otherwise, we’re not funding solutions. We’re just funding labels. And that’s not only a waste of money, it’s a betrayal of the very children this system was meant to serve.

Got a story tip for us? Email [e-mail]