When Stevie Howson got his NDIS plan, it looked as though it had been written for someone else – an autistic person with challenging behaviours.

It included $3000 for speech therapy and $15,000 for behavioural support.

At the time he was an adult living in his own home and holding down a mainstream job.

What he actually needed and asked for was a wheelchair, physiotherapy and support at home due to his ­Ehlers-Danlos syndrome, a devastating connective tissue disorder that had robbed him of his mobility.

He had also asked for some therapy due to a late diagnosis of autism.

The 34-year-old from Armidale, NSW later found autism had been ­assigned as his “primary disability” and believes his plan was created by an ­algorithm, somehow “generated through automation”.

“I suspect what happened is that I received a template plan for autistic people,” Mr Howson said.

However the plan error happened; it should have been an easy fix. Instead it took three years for the agency to put it right, a battle that pushed Mr Howson to the brink of suicide.

Frustratingly, the NDIA had many opportunities to fix its mistake.

Medical professionals – including an independent occupational therapist chosen by the NDIA – agreed he did not need speech or behavioural therapy, he needed help with his ­mobility. Their views were ignored.

In subsequent meetings the agency never mentioned the independent OT’s report, and Mr Howson has never seen a copy of it.

He later found out through a Freedom of Information request that someone in the agency’s early intervention team had suggested resolving his matter back in November 2024.

However, her advice was overruled by the NDIA’s “TAPIB” Technical Branch, a faceless group of allied health professionals who give clinical advice to the agency.

“They didn’t see me, speak to me, or talk to anyone who had,” Mr Howson said. “I want to complain about the person who made the decision about me, but I don’t know who they are.”

In July, two weeks before the hearing date, the NDIA offered to settle his matter in full and increased the value of his plan by more than $100,000.

Ironically, at the start of the process Mr Howson was not asking for more money, just to be allowed to spend the money he had been allocated in his plan on things that would help.

The farcical process will have cost the taxpayer thousands of dollars. Meanwhile, Mr Howson is deeply scarred.

“I have lost years of my life to this appeal process,” he said. “I’ve lost years of my child’s childhood that I will never get back. The way that the NDIS is being run is not worthy of the trust of this parliament or the generosity of the Australian people who fund this scheme.”

He is now turning his attention to concerns around a new assessment tool that will do without the input of medical reports and instead rely on interviews done by people without medical backgrounds, trained by the TAPIB team.

A spokeswoman for the agency said it did not use algorithms in developing or approving plans, and a participant’s NDIS funding was informed through planning conversations and evidence provided.