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Autism

What if Everyone Were Autistic?

Personal Perspective: If we all were autistic, would we say more of what we truly want to say?

Key points

  • Autistic communication is often direct and truthful.
  • Many with autism struggle with heightened sensory experiences.
  • What is called "intense and restricted interests" is a hallmark of autism.

As a kid, I was told I had Asperger's syndrome (as an adult, that diagnosis was updated to autism). I believed Asperger's was a disease and hoped I could rid myself of it. I attended all skills groups, trying to learn how to act more like others suggested I should act. Yet, these provided futile. No matter how hard I tried to act "normal," there was always something different about me. I eventually gave up the pursuit and sought to focus on kindness over traditional social skills.

Along the path, I've gained respect for other autistics and the unique perspectives autism lends. I recognize that autism can present significant challenges and would never downplay that; nor would I ignore the role interventions can play in assisting someone in creating coping strategies.

Still, I have sometimes wondered what it might be like if, in some alternate universe, roles were reversed, and a majority of people were autistic. What would it be like if, in such a state, as much effort were placed into teaching neurotypicals the rules of autistic interaction as currently is spent teaching autistic people about neurotypical social norms (usually branded as skills)?

These are some changes I think would come about.

1. Would we lie less?

While autistic individuals are sometimes just as capable of lying as anyone else, research shows that most autistics value truth very highly (Jaarsma et al., 2012). Autistic communication is often direct and truthful. Teaching the reasoning behind white lies to share someone's feelings is sometimes a "skill" taught in social skills groups. There have been times when I have answered a question meant to have been an evasive/rhetorical question literally. And while, at that moment, I may have felt left out, I don't quite regret it. A friend once said, "Men socialize by insulting each other, but they don't mean it. Women socialize by complementing each other, but they don't mean it." Oversimple as it may be, I do think he has a point. People are rarely entirely truthful. What if we all were more honest?

2. Would we show deeper passions?

What is called "intense and restricted interests" is a hallmark of autism. We tend to fixate on one topic or subject. The stereotype of a passion for trains, numbers, or science does hold some truth. Yet, many of us have more nuanced interests, like a particular animal or historical period. Some people like to call these passions, others give these names like obsessions or preservative tendencies. What is the difference? What if everyone could find a niche of interest and focus on that? Think of the scientific, social, and artistic advances that could come of this!

3. Would we reflect more?

Although not all autistics seek silence and solitude, many struggle with heightened sensory experiences or, as some like to call these, "sensory issues." For myself, the greatest of these has been sensitivity to sound. In everyday households, TVs are kept on, sometimes even just for background noise. This has always been a difficult thing for me. I can't think straight with chatter in the background. What if everyone were more aware of the sensory information around them? What if everyone sought out a bit more silence?

4. Would we say more of what we want to say?

Similarly to their honesty, a common autistic social tendency is to be very direct. Sometimes, this is not considered "socially appropriate" in mainstream society. Yet, indirect communication carries its problems and fosters confusion. Sometimes, directness comes from an ability to decide what is "appropriate" in a given situation and what isn't. But who is to make that determination? Our society places many social rules out there that seem, in my eyes, to do little good. Some social norms can be harmful. What if everyone revealed more of what was on their mind?

Closing

Of course, this is just a thought experiment, and my hypotheses might miss the mark by a long shot. Still, I do believe that there is some room to celebrate neurodivergent communication styles. I appreciate the neurodivergent people in my life as well as the neurotypical people who have shown me patience as I translate between our worlds.

References

Jaarsma, P., Gelhaus, P., & Welin, S. (2012). Living the categorical imperative: autistic perspectives on lying and truth telling—between Kant and care ethics. Medicine, Health Care and Philosophy, 15, 271–277.

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