“Why Don’t They Just Try Harder?” (Myths About Choice & Motivation)
- Scott McDougal
- Jun 5
- 3 min read
When I was younger, I wanted to be a filmmaker.
I wasn’t just casually interested—I loved film. The storytelling, the visual language, the emotion it could stir in people—it lit something up in me. I had ideas, scripts, even a few short projects. But over time, I noticed a pattern: I couldn't stay with it. I’d start strong and then stall out. Over and over.
And I began asking myself, If I love this so much, why can’t I stay motivated?
That question eventually led to a much deeper one: What do I even mean when I say I “can choose” to do something? Is motivation a choice? Is follow-through a moral virtue—or something else entirely?

How Trauma and Neurodivergence Shape Choice & Motivation in the Brain (and Behavior)
We often talk about choice like it’s the ultimate equalizer: we all have it, and we all should use it. But if you've lived through trauma—or live with a neurodivergent brain—you know it’s not that simple.
When someone experiences trauma, especially early or ongoing trauma, their nervous system learns to prioritize safety over exploration or risk. Likewise, people with ADHD, autism, depression, or anxiety are wired differently at the level of neurochemistry and brain connectivity.
Some key differences:
The amygdala becomes extra sensitive to threat.
The prefrontal cortex (which helps with planning and motivation) can go offline during stress or overwhelm.
The dopamine system, crucial for motivation and interest, often doesn’t fire the same way in neurodivergent individuals.
So what might look like "not trying" from the outside is often someone’s nervous system or neurobiology running on a different rulebook.
"Lazy" Isn’t a Thing — It’s a Label for What We Don’t Understand
Let’s talk about the word lazy.
We throw it around like it means something concrete—like it's a personality trait or a diagnosis. But “lazy” isn’t real in the way gravity or a broken leg is real. It’s a label we slap on people when we don’t understand why they’re not doing what we think they should be doing.
But underneath that label, something real usually is happening:
Exhaustion
Executive dysfunction
Trauma responses
Depression or grief
Lack of internal safety
The word “lazy” flattens all that into a judgment. And when we do that—to others or ourselves—we lose the ability to see what’s actually going on.
The Myth of Equal Access to Choice
Yes, humans have agency. But the playing field isn’t level.
When your brain is in survival mode, or wired in a way that makes focus and motivation elusive, you might technically have the ability to choose—but you don’t have equal access to that ability in the moment.
Again and more clearly....everyone DOESN'T have the same ability to make a choice.
Think of choice like a light switch. Some people have easy access to it—just reach out and flip. Others have to climb a flight of stairs in the dark just to find the wall.
So when someone says “Why don’t they just try harder?” they’re imagining that light switch is right there for everyone. But for many people, it isn’t.
Why Compassion Beats Judgment Every Time
When we understand that the brain is influencing behavior—and that not everyone has equal access to motivation or self-control—we begin to shift from:
“What’s wrong with them?”
To:
“What might be blocking their ability to act right now?”
That shift isn’t just more compassionate. It’s more accurate.
What Actually Helps
There are ways to support people in reclaiming their ability to choose—without shame, and without force.
Some of the most effective tools:
IFS (Internal Family Systems): Helps people connect with the parts of themselves that feel shut down, afraid, or avoidant.
Mindfulness-based therapy: Trains the brain to pause, observe, and respond with more clarity.
EMDR and somatic work: Help the nervous system release stored trauma that’s hijacking motivation.
Small, doable actions: When big goals feel impossible, brushing your teeth or sending one email is enough to begin reshaping patterns.
Every little moment of safety or self-connection helps rebuild the brain’s access to choice.
Final Thought
If someone seems like they’ve “given up,” maybe they haven’t. Maybe their system is overwhelmed. Maybe their brain is conserving energy. Maybe they’re fighting a battle you can’t see.
Let’s stop asking “Why don’t they just try harder?” and start wondering, with curiosity and compassion: “What’s in the way of choice right now—and how can we make it safer to try?”





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