Lately, I’ve seen more and more programs advertising something they call “trauma-informed ABA.” On the surface, it sounds hopeful. After all, who wouldn’t want therapies to be gentler, safer, and more humane for children who have already experienced adversity?

But here’s the reality: ABA can never be trauma-informed. No matter how many times it is rebranded, no matter what rewards are substituted, no matter how softly the language is phrased, the foundations of Applied Behavior Analysis are incompatible with what trauma-informed practice requires.

I’m going to break down why, with research, science, and lived experience, because children’s lives and dignity depend on us telling the truth.

ABA’s Foundation: Compliance Over Humanity

Applied Behavior Analysis (ABA) was created in the 1960s by Ole Ivar Lovaas. His goal was not to support autistic children in thriving authentically, but to make them “indistinguishable from their peers.” That history is not incidental; it reveals the system’s DNA.

Behavior is broken into discrete, observable units. These units are then labeled as either “desirable” or “undesirable.” Through reinforcement and extinction, children are trained to comply with the “desirable” behaviors, regardless of their internal state or needs.

At its core, ABA views human differences such as stimming, avoiding eye contact, and sensory needs as errors to be eliminated.

By contrast, trauma-informed practice is built on six principles (SAMHSA, 2014): safety, trustworthiness, peer support, collaboration, empowerment, and cultural/historical/gender issues.

Where ABA seeks control, trauma-informed care seeks safety. Where ABA defines success as compliance, trauma-informed care defines success as regulation and healing.

These two systems cannot be reconciled.

Trauma Is Stored in the Body — and ABA Works Against the Body

Research in neuroscience and psychology has shown that trauma is not just a memory but a physiological imprint. Bessel van der Kolk writes in The Body Keeps the Score (2014) that trauma activates the autonomic nervous system, driving fight, flight, or freeze responses. These responses are automatic survival mechanisms — they are not conscious “behaviors” a child chooses.

But ABA reduces these nervous system responses to observable behaviors to be extinguished. A meltdown is treated as “noncompliance.” A freeze response — shutting down, going still — may be viewed as “success” because the outward behavior stopped. But the child is still dysregulated internally, still trapped in survival mode.

Suppressing outward signs of distress does not equal safety. In fact, it deepens trauma. Children learn that their bodies’ survival signals are wrong and must be ignored in order to receive approval.

That is not healing. That is conditioning.

Extinction Is Inherently Traumatizing

One of ABA’s central tools is extinction: removing reinforcement until a behavior decreases. For example, ignoring a child’s attempts to escape a demand until they stop protesting.

Extinction is not trauma-informed; it is trauma-inducing. Research has shown that extinction triggers extinction bursts— escalations in distress behaviors before suppression (Lerman & Iwata, 1995). In plain terms, this means children’s cries, screams, or attempts to flee intensify before they collapse into compliance.

To call this “trauma-informed” is to ignore neuroscience: Bruce Perry’s work shows that repeated activation of stress responses without regulation sensitizes the stress system, making children more reactive over time (The Boy Who Was Raised as a Dog, 2006). Extinction teaches children that their communication is useless, eroding trust and safety.

The False Promise of “Positive ABA”

Defenders argue: “We don’t punish anymore. We use positive reinforcement. We let kids choose their rewards.”

But reinforcement and extinction are two sides of the same coin: they manipulate behavior externally rather than supporting regulation internally.

Self-Determination Theory (Deci & Ryan, 1985; Ryan & Deci, 2000) shows that external rewards undermine intrinsic motivation. Even when a child “chooses” their reinforcer, the core message remains: you are acceptable only when you comply.

This is the opposite of trauma-informed care, which emphasizes empowerment, unconditional safety, and respect for autonomy.

ABA and Masking: A Hidden Wound

Another documented harm of ABA is the reinforcement of masking — suppressing autistic traits to appear “normal.” Research shows that masking is linked to increased anxiety, depression, and suicidality in autistic adults (Hull et al., 2017; Cassidy et al., 2018).

When ABA rewards eye contact, suppresses stimming, or demands “quiet hands,” it teaches children to abandon their authentic regulation strategies. Trauma-informed care would never force a child to abandon coping mechanisms; it would validate and support them.

ABA cannot be trauma-informed when it requires children to erase themselves to be accepted.

Gaslighting Through Rebranding

Perhaps the most insidious harm is the way “trauma-informed ABA” gaslights parents, educators, and policymakers. By softening language — calling extinction “planned ignoring” or compliance “readiness skills” — ABA convinces caring adults that harm is help.

But new packaging doesn’t change the system’s foundation. If the goal is still compliance and the methods are still reinforcement/extinction, then it is still ABA. And it is still incompatible with trauma-informed care.

What Trauma-Informed Support Really Looks Like

If ABA can’t be trauma-informed, what can?

True trauma-informed support means:

• Recognizing behavior as communication of unmet needs.
• Prioritizing co-regulation and nervous system safety over compliance.
• Supporting sensory needs instead of suppressing them.
• Empowering students with unconditional belonging, not conditional approval.
• Honoring lived experience and cultural differences rather than erasing them.

This isn’t ABA with a new label. It’s a fundamentally different philosophy: one that values dignity over data, connection over control.

Final Thought

ABA was built on control. Trauma-informed care is built on safety. These are not compatible foundations. You cannot take a system designed to extinguish behaviors and retrofit it into one designed to nurture healing.

No matter how many new names it takes, no matter how many colorful reinforcers it uses, ABA still teaches children that their worth is conditional and their survival responses are wrong. That message is trauma in itself.

ABA cannot be trauma-informed. Not now. Not ever.

Because our children don’t need better compliance systems, they need better compassion.

References (selected)

Cassidy, S., et al. (2018). Suicidal ideation and suicide plans or attempts in adults with Asperger’s syndrome. Lancet Psychiatry, 1(2).

Deci, E. L., & Ryan, R. M. (1985). Intrinsic Motivation and Self-Determination in Human Behavior. Springer.

Eisenberger, N. I., & Lieberman, M. D. (2004). Why rejection hurts. Trends in Cognitive Sciences, 8(7).

Hull, L., et al. (2017). “Putting on my best normal”: Social camouflaging in adults with autism spectrum conditions. Journal of Autism and Developmental Disorders, 47(8).

Lerman, D. C., & Iwata, B. A. (1995). Prevalence of the extinction burst and its attenuation during treatment. Journal of Applied Behavior Analysis, 28(1).

Perry, B. D., & Szalavitz, M. (2006). The Boy Who Was Raised as a Dog. Basic Books.

Ryan, R. M., & Deci, E. L. (2000). Self-determination theory. American Psychologist, 55(1).

SAMHSA. (2014). SAMHSA’s Concept of Trauma and Guidance for a Trauma-Informed Approach.

van der Kolk, B. (2014). The Body Keeps the Score. Viking.

Vincent, C. G., & Tobin, T. J. (2011). SWPBS and exclusion by race/disability. Journal of Emotional and Behavioral Disorders, 19(4).