When ABA Makes the News for the Wrong Reasons: A Message to Parents

Recently, The New York Times published an article that was painful to read, but unfortunately not completely shocking for many of us in the ABA field. The article described children being kept awake so clinics could continue billing, abuse by undertrained staff, and the growing influence of private equity in autism services. For parents who are already nervous about choosing the right therapy setting for their child, an article like that can feel terrifying.

As a BCBA, a local agency owner, and the mom of an autistic child, I want to say this clearly: you are right to ask hard questions. You are right to be cautious. You are right to expect better. Your child deserves care that is safe, ethical, affirming, individualized, and rooted in respect.

ABA has a complicated history, and I do not think we do the field any favors by pretending otherwise. There are parts of ABA’s past that were harmful, coercive, compliance-based, and focused on making autistic children appear less autistic rather than helping them live safer, fuller, more autonomous lives. That history matters. Families should not be asked to ignore it. Autistic adults should not be asked to “move on” from it. Providers should not become defensive when people bring it up.

For too long, some ABA programs prioritized obedience over communication, still bodies over regulated bodies, eye contact over connection, and compliance over consent. Some children were taught, directly or indirectly, that their “no” did not matter. Some were pushed past their limits in the name of progress. Some were treated like a collection of behaviors instead of whole human beings. That is not the kind of ABA I believe in. It is not the kind of ABA I want for my own child. And it is not the kind of ABA we practice.

The field has changed in many good ways, but it has not changed enough. There are still companies that hire staff too quickly, train them too little, and place them with vulnerable children before they are ready. There are still clinics where billing, productivity, and growth are treated as more important than clinical judgment. There are still agencies where the people making decisions are far removed from the children receiving services. And yes, there is a very real concern about what happens when private equity enters a field built around children with disabilities.

When profit becomes the loudest voice in the room, children lose. Staff lose. Families lose.

Quality care takes time. Training takes time. Supervision takes time. Building trust with a child takes time. Supporting a family through hard moments takes time. Ethical ABA cannot be rushed, mass-produced, or scaled endlessly without consequences. I believe many of the worst stories we hear in this field happen when businesses grow faster than their values, faster than their training systems, and faster than their clinical oversight. That should scare all of us. But it should also push us to demand better.

At Learning Beyond The Spectrum, we are a BCBA-owned, local agency, and that matters. It means the decisions we make are not being handed down by investors who have never met your child. It means clinical quality is not an abstract concept on a spreadsheet. It means the people leading the company understand what it means to sit with a child during a hard moment, support a parent through fear, train a new technician, and make decisions that put a child’s dignity first.

Our first line as a company is always the best interest of the kids. Not billing. Not growth. Not convenience. Kids first.

That is why our staff are trained to become Registered Behavior Technicians before they run sessions independently. We do not believe that someone should be handed a vulnerable child and a binder of programs without meaningful training, supervision, and support. Children deserve adults who understand behavior, communication, assent, trauma-informed care, reinforcement, regulation, and neurodiversity-affirming practice. They deserve adults who know that behavior is communication. They deserve adults who are trained to ask, “What is this child trying to tell us?” instead of “How do we make this stop?” They deserve adults who understand that progress should not come at the cost of safety, dignity, or identity.

When I talk about neurodiversity-affirming ABA, I mean ABA that respects autistic people as autistic people. We are not trying to erase autism. We are not trying to make children indistinguishable from their peers. We are not teaching children that their natural ways of moving, communicating, playing, or experiencing the world are wrong.

We are focused on skills that matter. Communication. Safety. Self-advocacy. Emotional regulation. Daily living skills. Play. Flexibility. Independence. Meaningful participation in family and community life. We care about whether a child can ask for help. We care about whether a child can say no. We care about whether a child feels safe with us. We care about whether families feel supported. We care about whether the goals we are teaching actually improve the child’s life, not whether they make the child easier for adults to manage.

That distinction matters.

This is also personal for me. I am not only a BCBA and an agency owner. I am also the mom of an autistic child who attends an ABA clinic that is independent of mine. That clinic was, until recently, owned by a private-equity company. So when I say that parents deserve transparency, I mean it as a provider and as a mother.

I know how vulnerable it feels to trust other people with your child. I know what it feels like to wonder whether the people working with your child truly understand them. I know what it feels like to care deeply about whether your child is respected, heard, and safe when you are not in the room. That experience shapes how I run our company. It shapes how I think about training. It shapes how I talk to parents. It shapes how seriously I take the responsibility of caring for someone else’s child.

I know the stories in the news are frightening. They should be. But they are not the whole story. There are many of us in this field working hard to do better. There are BCBA-owned agencies, autistic professionals, neurodiversity-affirming clinicians, ethical supervisors, compassionate RBTs, and small local providers who are trying to move ABA forward in the right direction.

Many of us are making very little money compared to large, nationwide, private-equity-backed companies. And we would not have it any other way. Because this work, when done well, is not about building a massive company as quickly as possible. It is about building trust. It is about helping a child communicate for the first time. It is about supporting a parent who feels overwhelmed. It is about celebrating progress that may look small to the outside world but means everything to a family. It is about protecting childhood while teaching meaningful skills. It is about making sure every child in our care is treated like a person first.

If you are a parent reading the recent headlines and wondering whether ABA is safe for your child, I encourage you to ask questions. A good provider will welcome them. Ask who owns the company. Ask how staff are trained before working independently with children. Ask whether staff are required to become RBTs. Ask how often BCBAs are present and directly supervising. Ask how the clinic responds when a child says no or shows distress. Ask whether goals are focused on meaningful life skills or simply compliance. Ask whether parents are included in treatment planning. Ask how the clinic defines progress. Ask what they do to protect your child’s dignity, autonomy, and emotional safety.

If a provider seems annoyed by your questions, that tells you something. If they cannot clearly explain their training, supervision, and values, that tells you something too. You are not being difficult. You are advocating for your child.

ABA can have a bright future, but only if the right people lead the way. The future of ABA cannot be built by organizations that see children as billable hours. It cannot be built by companies that undertrain staff and overschedule children. It cannot be built by systems that silence autistic voices or dismiss parent concerns. The future of ABA has to be ethical, compassionate, neurodiversity-affirming, trauma-informed, and child-centered. It has to be led by people who are willing to acknowledge harm, change practices, listen to autistic people, train staff well, and put children before profit.

That is the future I believe in. That is the future we are working toward. And that is the kind of care your child deserves.

If you read the article and felt scared, I understand. I was too. But please know this: there are providers who care deeply. There are clinics where children are respected. There are agencies where training matters, ethics matter, and your child’s voice matters. There are many of us trying to build something better.

At Learning Beyond The Spectrum, we believe ABA should never be about control. It should be about connection, communication, safety, independence, and quality of life. Your child is not a number. Your child is not a billing code. Your child is not a problem to fix. Your child is a whole person, deserving of respect, joy, support, and dignity.

That belief is where our work starts, and it is where it will always stay.