Autism Barbie? I’m Not a Fan

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This month, I heard about the new Barbie who was introduced, and she has autism.

At first, and for many, this new doll seemed to be an amazing idea. After all, she potentially can open discussions with neurotypical children about their neurodivergent peers that may act a bit differently than they do. That’s positive, right? So, if that’s the case, why did this doll evoke such a deep feeling inside of me, not one of elation, but rather one of disappointment and frustration?

I understand the excitement over a doll that looks like a child, and so many Barbies have helped open the door to different conversations. For example, my husband is a type one diabetic, and when we experienced a Barbie with a glucose monitor and a pump, sure, I thought it was very cool. If my daughters were of Barbie-playing age, I probably would have purchased this for them so they could better understand their dad and his condition. It was also a good way to normalize the disease and teach children about treating an illness.

I would be remiss not to mention that this topic has come up before, and I didn’t speak up about it. A few years ago, Mattel introduced a Barbie with Down Syndrome in collaboration with the National Down Syndrome Society (NDSS). At first blush, I liked this idea a lot. Personally, working with individuals with intellectual and developmental disabilities (I/DD), so many of my clients felt included by seeing and playing with a doll that “looked like them.” But as time went by, I started examining the doll a bit more closely, and I was a tad disappointed. To me, this looked like a larger Barbie with slanted eyes (they’re described as “almond”). However, the disability world was lighting up with excitement, so I chose to focus on the positive: the idea that the people I cared about felt seen, and that inclusivity seemed to be becoming a priority.

All of these dolls mentioned are part of the brand’s “Fashionistas” line, which works to go beyond a “one-size-fits-all” approach. This is an aspect I fully support. But now, we have a Barbie with autism. You might be wondering: what makes Barbie autistic? Well, she has eyes that look slightly off-center because children with autism often don’t make eye contact. Um, OK. She also has joints in the wrist and elbows that bend because people with autism stim by hand flapping. Hmm, well, not everyone, but OK. Also, this Barbie comes with headphones so she can filter out noise. She also has a communication device. Alright, here is where I call it a day. I have to say something!

No two people with autism are the same! Some make eye contact, some don’t. Some have other stims. Some have none. Some use communication devices, and others don’t. In my opinion, this is a Barbie that is using autistic paraphernalia. In my mind, this is placing stigma where none exists.

I understand that children want to see themselves in Barbie. They want a doll that looks like them so they can be included. But how does this doll do that? Any Barbie can hold an iPad or have poseable arms. I had Barbies with posable hands when I was a kid! A child with autism looks like any other child, and I think this is what upsets me the most; we’re differentiating between children, and we are creating the very opposite of integration – we’re segregating youth.

I want a world where a child with autism is accepted just like any other child. I mean, really, how different is hand flapping from nail biting? How different is carrying a communication device from carrying a cell phone? To me, it really isn’t that different. Children with autism are just children!

My family asked me how I would approach this subject. To be honest, I would not have produced a Barbie with autism. I don’t think there is any one doll that can capture or do justice for the autism community. Instead, I would focus my time and energy on having real conversations and educating others about autism and how they can be an ally for people they care about, so we can avoid these blanket and generic assumptions in the future.

I know my take on this is probably very different from most disability advocates and family members. But I prefer to see a world where neurodivergent children are included thoughtfully. They don’t need to look different; they need to be accepted for who they are—and as a society, we need to do better.