Shine On You Unsung Diamond: Why Syd Barrett's Story Wasn't a Tragedy

Was Syd Barrett really a tragic, drug-induced cautionary tale, or was he a neurodivergent artist who made a deliberate choice to step away from fame?

If you’re unfamiliar with the lore of the English rock band Pink Floyd, their very name was coined by the legendary musical genius, Roger Keith “Syd” Barret, a founding member and the creative energy behind their first two albums.  He was a highly respected member of the band, and I believe it was his unique creativity and originality that first set Pink Floyd apart. His influence cast a long shadow over the band's legacy, inspiring several songs—and even an entire album—centered around his time with them. The remaining members have repeatedly expressed how much he meant to them, both musically and personally.

Many people assume they know what happened to Syd Barrett, subscribing to the myth that he fell victim to an ‘LSD-induced psychosis’ and spiraled into a tragic decline, unable to grasp the fame that was right in front of him.

Let’s take a closer look at the most persistent myths about Syd Barrett and challenge them with a fresh perspective:

Myth #1: "Syd was a mad genius who just spontaneously and inexplicably went crazy right as his band was gaining traction."

Reality: He exhibited traits of neurodivergence long before fame and more likely struggled with the demands of the industry rather than with "madness" itself.

Myth #2: "Roger Waters and David Gilmour were rivals who pushed Syd out of the band out of jealousy."

Reality: While band dynamics are complicated, there’s little evidence that they conspired against him. Syd seemed to disengage all on his own.

Myth #3: "Syd lived out a sad, depressed life, rotting away in seclusion until his death."

Reality: His sister and those who knew him later in life suggest he lived peacefully, enjoying painting and cycling.

I’d like to challenge all of these myths, especially now that conversations around neurodivergence are gaining momentum and we’re beginning to better understand the mind and perspectives of neurodivergent individuals.

As a neurodivergent person and long-time Pink Floyd fan, I recently rethought this narrative after years of studying the band's history. Twenty five years ago, when I first discovered Pink Floyd, I didn’t yet understand these aspects of myself. Without that perspective, I accepted the mainstream story about Syd.

I hadn’t listened to Pink Floyd’s music in many years, but a few months ago started listening to their music again after my ex-boyfriend had been listening to their music a bit. I had always loved the early Floyd music especially, and admired the fun and whimsical, poetic music written by Syd. He was such an intelligent musician and he had an incredible sense of lyricism, melody, and harmony.

Like many neurodivergent people, I grew up feeling different, awkward, and out of sync with the world around me. That feeling of disconnection made me resonate with Syd’s music, but only recently did I start to wonder: was he really a tragic figure, or was he just misunderstood? Looking back, I now see Syd through a new lens: not as someone who 'lost himself,' but as someone who may have simply had no interest in entering an overwhelming industry that was never designed for minds like his.

Recently, on my long drives to and from work (90 km each way), I started using ChatGPT as a way to process my thoughts, explore creative ideas, and refine my perspectives on different topics.

During one particular chat, I found myself rethinking Syd’s story and questioning what really happened to him.

I’m not here to state absolutes, but rather to question the logic behind the common narrative. In my view, much of it simply doesn’t hold up.

Myth #1: "Syd was a mad genius who just spontaneously and inexplicably went crazy right as his band was gaining traction."

One of the most persistent claims is that Syd’s LSD use caused schizophrenia. However, there was never any documented diagnosis of this: only speculation based on his behavior. In the 1960s, the medical vocabulary and understanding of neurodivergence were far more limited, and people who didn’t fit societal norms were often hastily labeled as "crazy."

But here’s the thing: people don’t develop permanent psychosis from temporary drug use. Psychedelics like LSD can trigger transient episodes of psychosis in some individuals, but the idea that it permanently "breaks" people isn’t supported by strong evidence. During the 1960s, many people used these substances recreationally—how many of them were diagnosed as insane? While some cases have been documented, they are often oversimplified.

A crucial factor often overlooked in these discussions is the overprescription of antipsychotics at the time. Many individuals were perceived as "crazy" and heavily medicated with drugs like Largactil (Chlorpromazine), which can induce long-term cognitive and emotional dulling. While there’s no evidence that Syd himself was subjected to this, the widespread use of these medications reinforces how easily unconventional behavior was pathologized. This adds context to why people might assume his story fits into that narrative.

Several studies and articles explore the broader issue of misdiagnosis and overprescription:

"LSD Psychosis or LSD-Induced Schizophrenia?: A Multimethod Inquiry" (1983) examines how LSD-related psychosis is often mistaken for schizophrenia.

"Antipsychotic prescriptions rising much faster than psychosis rates" (2021) highlights how antipsychotic medication use has outpaced actual cases of diagnosed psychosis.

"New Paradigms of Old Psychedelics in Schizophrenia" (2022) discusses how psychedelics and schizophrenia have historically been misunderstood and how certain antipsychotic treatments can worsen cognitive symptoms.

Rather than proving that Syd Barrett "went crazy" from LSD, these discussions suggest a different possibility: that his behaviors were misunderstood, exaggerated, and projected onto a broader myth rather than assessed with nuance.

Neurodivergent individuals, particularly Autistic people, are often drawn to escapism as a way to cope with an overwhelming world. Whether through intense special interests, music, books, or even substances, many seek ways to momentarily disconnect from sensory overload, rigid societal expectations, or social exhaustion. Given Syd’s poetic and imaginative nature, it’s very likely that LSD was, for him, a form of exploration rather than self-destruction; an escape into a world that made more sense to his mind than the one he was expected to navigate. It seems far more likely that his LSD use was a symptom of his neurodivergence rather than the sole cause of any mental struggles he may have faced.

I suspect that Syd joined Pink Floyd simply because he enjoyed creating music with his friends. He may have been aware of Roger Waters’ ambitions for the band—after all, Waters has always been clear about his drive for success—but it’s likely that Syd didn’t fully anticipate just how overwhelming that level of fame would be for him.

In her interview, “Rosemary Breen on her Brother Syd Barrett,” his sister mentions that he was never interested in celebrity worship or in being famous himself. I can completely understand that. Personally, I would feel incredibly overwhelmed by the relentless scheduling, the constant attention that never truly shuts off, and the total lack of privacy. And that’s without even factoring in everything we now know about the corruption, crime, substance abuse, and blackmail that run rampant in the entertainment industry.

That life would be a nightmare, in my view. It would make sense for someone like Syd to see what was coming and decide to step away.

One of the most telling moments comes from an interview with Roger Waters, where he recalls a conversation with Syd at Top of the Pops. Syd, looking visibly uncomfortable, said, "John Lennon doesn’t have to do this." Waters, not understanding his hesitation, responded, "Syd, this is what we’ve worked towards for the last four or five years, to be on Top of the Pops and make a few quid. Buck up, boy! Let’s get on with it." But Syd never did "buck up:" from that moment on, he grew more distant.

This moment is often framed as Syd starting to spiral, but what if it was simply the moment he realized he didn’t want to go down that road? He had seen what fame required and he wasn’t interested. The fact that he was actively questioning the industry and comparing his situation to Lennon’s suggests awareness, not psychosis.

Waters even reached out to Syd’s family for answers. According to him, one of Syd’s brothers came to London, checked in on him, and later told Waters, "He's fine. He’s had some troubling times, but he’s actually fine." This statement directly contradicts the idea that Syd was completely lost or unreachable; it suggests that whatever he was going through, he was still himself, just choosing a different path.

Anecdotal evidence: I haven’t been able to find any official documentation of this (though I distinctly remember reading it in a book I owned about 20 years ago), but there was a rumor about Pink Floyd appearing on a television show where Syd deliberately acted erratic. According to the story, he would detune his guitar, wail on it nonsensically, and stare into space as if catatonic, but only while the cameras were rolling. The moment the show cut to commercial, he returned to normal.

That doesn’t sound like someone in the grip of psychosis. It sounds like someone performing madness, possibly as a way to make himself unappealing to an industry he wanted no part of.

Another possibility is that Syd simply became disillusioned with what the music industry was turning him into. In a discussion of his departure, one theory suggests that he "got sick of what the music industry turned him into." A producer who worked with him recalled, "He would do exactly the self-same show, almost ignoring what I had said for suggestions."

This paints a different picture from the idea that Syd was incapable of functioning: it suggests that he was actively resisting being shaped into something he didn’t want to be. While Pink Floyd was the only structured part of his life at the time, it seems he had a love-hate relationship with what it was becoming. He was deeply connected to his bandmates and the music, yet increasingly detached from the industry and the expectations being placed on him.

Looking at Syd’s early life, there are clear indications that he was always a deeply curious, creative, and passionate individual: qualities that align with what we now recognize as neurodivergence, particularly autism.

From a young age, he showed a strong interest in both music and art, playing the ukulele, banjo, and acoustic guitar before acquiring his prized electric guitar as a teenager. His artistic mind wasn’t limited to music: he was also a gifted painter, blending visual and musical creativity in ways that would later shape his unique style.

He was intensely focused on his passions, and this kind of hyperfixation and artistic immersion is common among neurodivergent individuals. The idea that Syd’s mind simply "snapped" ignores that he was always someone who lived deeply in his creative world.

His father’s passing when he was 16 had a profound impact on him. During this time, his mother supported his passion for music, even encouraging his band to practice at home. Rather than seeing this as a troubled, unstable youth, it’s far more accurate to see him as a sensitive, deeply creative individual navigating loss and change in the way that felt most natural to him.

Rather than seeing this as a tragic descent into madness, it makes more sense to view it as someone who wasn’t interested in playing the game anymore and deliberately checked out.

Myth #2: "Roger Waters and David Gilmour were rivals who pushed Syd out of the band out of jealousy."

I’m addressing this myth because a significant part of the mainstream narrative paints Roger Waters as an egotistical, slave-driving tyrant who forced the rest of the band into servitude to fuel his own rise to fame. But is that really fair?

A more realistic perspective is that Waters had the discipline and vision to keep Pink Floyd on track, ensuring their longevity in an industry where many bands burned out due to excess and lack of structure. The reality is that only the musicians who treated their careers like a job stood the test of time. While Waters' leadership style may have been intense, that doesn’t mean it was rooted in malice or personal ambition alone; it was likely a necessary ingredient in Pink Floyd’s success.

David Gilmour, on the other hand, is generally viewed more favourably by fans, but there’s still a degree of suspicion regarding his motives. The idea that he came in as a replacement for Syd, scheming to take his place, doesn’t really hold up when you look at the timeline. For a period, he and Syd played together, with Gilmour supporting rather than usurping him. It wasn’t a matter of him pushing Syd out: it was Syd himself who eventually disengaged and removed himself from the band.

Roger Waters is well known as a driven and disciplined musician, and his ambition played a crucial role in keeping Pink Floyd focused. Despite the stereotypes of the era, he did not tolerate drug use within the band. In fact, he eventually fired Richard Wright due to Wright’s cocaine addiction, which had prevented him from contributing creatively. His lack of involvement became such a problem that the band had to hire additional musicians to cover his parts.

Does this make Waters egotistical? Or was he simply a professional who understood that deadlines and discipline were necessary to keep the band on track? It wasn’t just Waters who felt this way: both David Gilmour and drummer Nick Mason also acknowledged that Wright was not a reliable member of the band at the time.

The way I see it, the facts are simple: Syd stepped away for his own reasons, and however the rest of the band processed it, they respected his decision and moved on without him.

I’ve seen claims that Syd was mistreated or even abused by the band, but I don’t buy it. If he were truly being abused, it’s hard to imagine they would have let him walk away so easily, without much of a fight.

Myth #3: "Syd lived out a sad, depressed life, rotting away in seclusion until his death."

This idea romanticizes and overdramatizes the brief period he spent with Pink Floyd; as if his sole purpose in life was to be famous. It also undermines his ability to make his own choices.

Given the lack of understanding of mental health and neurodivergence at the time, it’s very plausible that neither the band members nor even Syd himself fully understood why he felt different. But if we refer back to his sister’s interview, she makes it clear: he was happy. He was fully aware of what was happening with the rest of the band, and he was happy for them.

Syd Barrett also released two solo albums after leaving the band; a fact that directly contradicts the idea that he had gone mad. These albums are just as musically potent and sophisticated as the work he created while in Pink Floyd. How does someone supposedly suffering from psychosis create something so intricate and full of life?

Let’s do a thought experiment: If Syd were a contemporary musician who had never joined Pink Floyd, and instead released these same albums to a small but devoted audience, would anyone claim he had lost his mind? Today, many independent artists release their music online, garnering praise as visionary, avant-garde geniuses. I believe Syd would be seen the same way.

It’s only because of this misguided narrative—one that insists on framing his story as a tragedy—that he has been cast in such a way.

In reality, Syd lived a quiet but fulfilling life after leaving the band. He pursued painting, cycling, gardening, photography, and home renovation projects—a far cry from the image of someone "rotting away in seclusion." His sister, Rosemary Breen, emphasized that he was happy and content, and despite stepping away from the industry, he remained fully aware of what was happening with Pink Floyd. He wasn’t a lost soul: he was simply a man who chose to live outside of the limelight.

The members of Pink Floyd have mentioned that Syd seemed sad when reminded of his past with the band. But does that mean he regretted leaving? I don’t think so.

His family even advised the band members that reaching out to him only upset him, so they made the difficult decision to respect his space and leave him alone. That doesn’t suggest regret: it suggests that he had emotionally moved on, and revisiting that time was more painful than comforting.

It’s entirely possible—likely, even—that he simply missed creating music with his friends. Nostalgia and longing don’t equal regret. How many of us have looked back on a time in our lives, felt sadness or wistfulness, but still known we made the right decision? Syd was human. He may have felt sentimental about the music they made together, but that doesn’t mean he wished he had stayed.

The pressures of the industry were still there. The expectations, the fame; none of that would have gone away. If anything, it only intensified for the rest of the band. Maybe the sadness wasn’t about what he lost, but about what he had to leave behind in order to live the life that was right for him.

Far from being a forgotten recluse, Syd still had a connection to the world—whether through his art, his family, or simply the joy of doing things on his own terms.

The Lesson:

Why bring up this old story again in 2025? Because it’s still relevant, and an important discussion to have. Syd Barrett’s story serves as a clear example of how vastly different the perspectives of the neurotypical world and the neurodivergent experience can be.

Most people struggle to fathom that someone could willingly walk away from fame when it’s handed to them. To them, it just doesn’t compute—unless, of course, that person must have lost their mind. But as a neurodivergent person, it seems quite obvious to me what was happening with Syd.

And here’s the crux of the issue: Syd Barrett’s story is not a tragic case of a mad genius who couldn’t handle his own brilliance. He was an incredibly intelligent and creative individual who made a decision about what was right for him.

I find it frustrating to read the endless sea of comments online: "Poor Syd," "He missed out on so much," "He had so much potential." I don’t believe there’s any real truth to that sentiment. Syd didn’t miss out on anything: he simply lived his life in a way that was right and comfortable for him.

And that’s the lesson we should take from this:

If you feel different—if you don’t fit into what everyone else believes is "right" or "normal"—that doesn’t mean you’re broken. It simply means you see the world differently, and that is not just okay: it’s valuable.

Society programs us to believe that we must all fit into the same box, and if we don’t, we must contort ourselves to fit. I say NO. There is so much strength, beauty, and creative insight in neurodivergent minds. Yes, we face challenges, but we also have strengths that neurotypical people may never fully understand.

Syd Barrett had a beautiful mind, and he had the strength to step away before the industry could destroy him. Who knows how tragic his story would have been if he hadn’t had the self-awareness to walk away? His instincts told him that world wasn’t for him, and fortunately, he listened. I don’t believe his story is tragic in the slightest. It’s only seen that way because the world values fame, success, and visibility above all else. But those aren’t the things that most neurodivergent people value. For Syd, his story was a happy one, because he lived it on his terms.

I wanted to share this to encourage those who are just discovering that they are neurodivergent, or who are still learning to accept it. There is nothing wrong with you. You are not broken. You are exactly as you were meant to be. I hope you can embrace that, learn to accept yourself, and above all, have compassion for yourself. Reframing your story with this new understanding is life-changing.

tl;dr

Syd Barrett, the visionary behind Pink Floyd, is often seen as a tragic figure who succumbed to LSD-induced psychosis and faded into obscurity, but this narrative overlooks a deeper truth. Rather than a victim of madness, Syd likely exhibited neurodivergent traits long before fame and consciously chose to leave an industry that overwhelmed him. The idea that he was "pushed out" or lived in sorrow is a myth—his sister described him as content, spending his life painting, cycling, and enjoying his own path. His story isn’t one of tragedy, but of self-awareness and autonomy.

Photo of Syd Barrett with The Pink Floyd, 1967 — originally published in Hit Parader without a copyright notice; public domain in the United States. Image source: Archive.org via Wikimedia Commons.