IT HAS BEEN estimated that we encounter more than a thousand numbers an hour. From speed limits to page numbers and the price of bread to the billions transferred to the banks, numbers provide a backdrop to daily life that most people process without effort.
But when you have dyscalculia, a condition that impairs the ability to understand numbers, everyday tasks can present a real challenge.
Sabrina Dent, from Cork, was diagnosed with dyscalculia as a child. “I have difficulty with numbers and number order, so things like reading an analogue clock is difficult, as are tasks like reading and dialling phone numbers,” she says.
“I am bad with distances, so I have a tape measure and use it much more than most people do. I also can’t count change. I hand the lady a handful of change and take whatever she gives back to me.”
Although many of us profess no love for maths, we routinely perform calculations without really thinking – such as working out if there’s time to press the snooze button again or which coins you need for the parking meter.
People with dyscalculia, who lack an intuitive grasp of numbers, can struggle to perform the arithmetic involved in even seemingly simple tasks such as these.
“It’s a deficit,” says Dent. “The question is, how large a deficit is it going to be? It’s always going to be there – you’re just plugging the hole to the best of your ability.”
Dent grew up in New York where her dyscalculia was spotted at an early age.
“I was lucky; I went to an extremely progressive school in New York that didn’t have grades. The teachers worked with me at my pace. If I had been in a public school, I can’t imagine what my experience would have been like, even with a support system.”
Despite being first identified in the 1970s, there is still relatively little known about dyscalculia.
Máirín Barry, a lecturer on special education needs at the UCD School of Education, says more research is needed to understand the condition in Ireland.
“We’re probably where dyslexia was 30 years ago in terms of our understanding of dyscalculia,” she says.
“The priority was literacy – to get everybody literate and able to leave school with the ability to read and write. Now we’ve turned our attention to this area.”
About 6 per cent of people are thought to be affected with dyscalculia and the earlier it is recognised, the better.
“The most specific diagnosis would be through an educational psychologist,” says Barry. “If it’s diagnosed at a younger age, we can help to develop number sense through the use of materials.
“Parents can help children learn about numbers with activities like pairing socks and setting a table: putting out one knife, one fork and one plate for everyone.”
Without learning support, numeracy problems can be reinforced at school. “Traditional teaching methods, while very effective at developing calculation skills if you have a good rote memory, tend not to develop good understanding of maths,” says Barry.
“This continues through the system and you end up with people who in their daily lives agonise over how to pay a tip or how much material to order.”
By the time you’re an adult, dyscalculia can be hard to spot as it is compounded by other factors, such as maths anxiety and poor teaching methods.
Research in the UK has shown that adults with numeracy problems – of which people with dyscalculia are one group – are significantly disadvantaged.
By the age of 30, those with low numeracy have lower employment prospects, earn less, are more likely to suffer from physical and mental illness and are more likely to get in trouble with law.
Brian Butterworth, professor of cognitive neuropsychology at University College, London, and an expert in dyscalculia, says the biggest challenge for dyscalculia is getting wider recognition for the condition.
“Kids who can’t learn arithmetic are regarded as being stupid. But they’re not; they’ve got this rather selective deficit.
“Recognition would mean that sufferers would have access to specialised help, just as sufferers from dyslexia do.
“Specialised help would raise their mathematical competence and make them more able to cope with the demands of a numerate society.”
Barry says that without greater awareness of dyscalculia, diagnosis and support is difficult.
“An acknowledgement of its existence is creeping in in Ireland, but there’s no formal approach. It is very frustrating because people have a very strong sense it exists, but it’s hard to approach because each individual’s experience would be compounded in different ways.”
For Dent, dyscalculia has affected every area of her life, from personal finance to her choice of career.
“I make straightforward investments and I have a straightforward household budget – I bundle services to suppliers because it’s easier to deal with one set of numbers,” she says.
“At college I was really interested in science, but couldn’t take the courses I wanted to because I couldn’t do the maths part. Now I work in visual design.
“It’s unfortunate for bright people to have opportunities closed off to them without the correct support.”
However, she says technological developments have helped enormously. “I used to spend my life running around going, ‘Does anybody have a calculator?’ and now Google will do maths for me,” she says.
“And while it is difficult for me to log into my bank’s online banking, it’s actually a fantastic thing. For years and years I struggled to balance my chequebook – being able to see my balance online is terrific.”
The National Adult Literacy Agency (NALA) can provide advice and support for people worried about their numeracy skills, freephone 1800-202065