NTs Are Weird

When it comes to suffering, or at least to those who suffer, autistics are hardly unique. There are two myths that commonly get attached to those who suffer:

1. If someone else isn’t actively indicating that they are suffering, their suffering isn’t “deep”.

2. If someone is actively indicating they are suffering, they are just “whining”.

I see both of these among autistics (and others who suffer) very frequently. Both have an interesting premise behind them: “Their suffering isn’t deep or real.” Note that this isn’t the conclusion, but the premise - these two statements would not make sense without accepting that premise.

The reality is that different people respond to suffering, pain, and other negative things differently. I’m not a “you create your own reality” type of person, so I’m not going to say this is because of poor or good self-image, positive/negative thinking, or anything like that - I believe these terms (and others like them) are used to abuse people who are already suffering, by making people think suffering is their own fault - when often it is not..

But people do respond differently to different situations. There are literally millions of reasons for this (it’s actually similar to sensory perception in a way - a sound I crave very well may be a sound that is painful to another, but it doesn’t change the nature of the sound, nor make it either person’s “choice” or “fault”). But someone who responds to suffering in a quiet way is simply responding in a quiet way. That doesn’t negate their suffering.

I do wish that I didn’t have to scream at the dentist, in what feels to me like a gross overreaction to pain. But I do. If I don’t, no other form of communication I’ve found seems to be appropriate as far as the dentist is concerned - I must not “really” be in pain if I’m not screaming. We shouldn’t have to play these games! We should have a right to having others take our suffering seriously without the need for “acting”.

Likewise, something someone thinks is minor might elicit a huge reaction from me - not one of “acting”, but a real, genuine, and obvious reaction. Rather than arguing about whether or not my reaction is “appropriate” or “overreaction”, why not try to help? Why not try to see what bothered me enough to make that reaction, before simply dismissing my reaction as inappropriate or too big?

I believe that understanding this is a key to interacting with autistic people. Just because I don’t show suffering in an “appropriate” way does not change the nature of my suffering. It is amazing the number of anctedotes about autistic people “overreacting” but later to be discovered to have incredible suffering, such as a broken bone, toothache, or other “legitimate” problem. Perhaps it would be wiser to just accept that when someone shows signs of suffering that something is wrong!

Likewise, I can’t judge the effect of something on someone else on the basis of my own reaction. Something that causes great pain or grief in me may be something that is trivial to someone else - and vise-versa. That doesn’t invalidate anyone’s pain, it simply means that we are different.

So, if you see someone suffering, just try to give them the benefit of the doubt that they just may have a reason for it - before you assume it is overreacting. And, likewise, don’t assume tht suffering isn’t there just because someone doesn’t respond in the “typical” manner.

Autism ain’t:

• - Different from Asperger’s
• - Just another word for “geek”
• - Something that makes us superior
• - A horrible condition
• - A prison sentence
• - A guarantee of loneliness
• - Another word for “unemployable”
• - Worse than death
• - A reason to pity someone
• - A made-up excuse to get our way
• - Completely different, needing different advocacy than other disabilities
• - More stigmatizing than anything else
• - The end of someone’s life

There are probably tons more. Feel free to add them as comments.

I got through reading a bunch of comments to a news story, regarding whether or not people with disabilities should be able to be part of society (the “main” society, not some sub-part hidden behind walls). In the end, it was clear: there are two views. The first is that the human race has a duty to everyone to at least try to find a place for people that allows inclusion, not segregation, from society. The second is that this duty only exists while it isn’t upsetting or inconvenient. This second view is often justified on the basis of “safety”.

I am constantly amazed how non-violence acts can be treated as if they were violent, simply because someone says, “Well, they do scare me, and I have a right to not be scared.” Actually, no, you don’t have a right to not be scared. You do have a right to be safe, although that right isn’t a guarantee. Sometimes there is a difference between true safety and the perception of safety (in fact, people confuse “safe” with “familiar” - that is why flying on a plane feels unsafe to some people, why some city people feel uncomfortable in the woods when they hear an animal at night, or why another person might reach up to lock their car door when someone of another skin color is standing on a corner nearby). In other words, we (as people) get this wrong a lot of the time (we probably get it wrong most of the time). Unfortunately we typically can’t see that our own fear may not be based in reality - and so our feelings of fear, rather than an objective measure of safety - become the standard. Ironically, using this standard often misses true danger, while discriminating against people who are not a danger at all.

Listen closely the next time someone wants to keep someone from participating in society - how long does it take before “safety” is brought up, and is safety brought up in a logical, objective way or is it brought up in the context of feelings, stereotypes, and “personal experience” that can’t be argued against without bringing the discussion to a personal (rather than logical) level?  Certainly there are times and places where people must be segregated, but I’ll bet that the next time you hear this in the context of disability, you’ll see feelings of safety, not real safety, as the real issue.

And note: I’m not confusing “participating in society” with “participating exactly the same way as others do in society”. Clearly that wouldn’t be any more acceptable than the things I’m talking about here.

One of the most pervasive thoughts about autism is that autistics are “concrete” thinkers, who can’t think “abstractly”. The idea that concrete, and a lack of abstract, thought is a core trait of autism is directly contrasted by my life experience and the life experience of many other autistic people.

Edsger Dijkstra wrote “The Humble Programmer” in the October, 1972 edition of Communications of the Association of Computing Machinery. While the entire article is quite fascinating to read (the best quote is that, by the end of the 1970s, computer software systems “will be virtually free of bugs” - a prediction which has clearly not yet come true), it contains some interesting thoughts on abstraction: “We all know the only mental tool by means of which a very finite piece of reasoning can cover a myriad of cases is called ‘abstraction’; as a result the effective exploitation of his powers of abstraction must be regarded as one of the most vital activities of a competent programmer. In this connection it might be worthwhile to point out that the purpose of abstraction is not to be vague, but to create a new semantic level in which one can be absolutely precise.”

In other words, it’s possible to think precisely about something without understanding all the details of subprocesses - and this is a very vital skill. This is done every day by pretty much everyone, including autistic people. The key part of abstraction, however, isn’t that it is thinking about things at a “higher level”, but rather that it still requires precision.

I suspect what autism researchers mean by “abstract thought” isn’t the precise thought that Dijkstra describes, but rather a less-precise for of thinking than true concrete OR abstract thought. While this type of thinking is also essential (sometimes we don’t know enough to be precise at any level, but still have to operate in the world and make precise decisions based on that imprecise understanding), it is not quite “abstract” thought. It’s inductive thought (in contrast to deductive thought).

I’ll save for other blogs the question on whether or not autistic people are good or bad inductive thinkers. I will note an observation that many autistic people I know, myself included, desire a precision and exactness, a perfection, in many of our daily tasks. And this desire for perfection certainly can get in the way of basic living.

But one thing is for sure: we don’t have the degree of difficulty with abstract thought that “conventional wisdom” about autism seems to indicate that we have. Lacking abstract thinking abilities certainly would not explain the overrepresentation of autistic people in the field of computer programming, a field which requires exceptional abstract thinking skills.

I’ve been ranting about behavioral treatment of disability (in general, not in the “

For the first time in about 10 years, I was asked to go with someone to a bar for a drink at the end of the day.

I think for NTs (neurotypicals), especially single male NTs, this probably happens more often than once every 10 years, and it probably isn’t exactly noteworthy.

For me it is. I am at a technical conference right now, and met some other attendees yesterday (I introduced myself to them - something else I’m very bad at doing). I decided to introduce myself based on the fact that I saw someone who looked like he wanted to meet someone (really - don’t ask me how I knew, since this surprises me when I can actually do it too), so I did the standard professional conference greeting - I told him my name, asked his, and then we asked each other where we work. We talked a bit that evening.

As we talked, a few others joined us. At the end of the evening he said, “I’ll find you tomorrow, we can go have a drink” to all of us, to which I and everyone else agreed. That said, I didn’t expect to see him again - that’s what normally happens. So I was quite surprised when I saw someone waving at me at the end of the day, went over there, and figured out it was the same person and he figured out what bar he wanted to go to downtown.

Of course I went with him (he was genuinely happy to have someone else to go with, and I think the fact I knew a bit about the town - I used to live here - helped reassure him about his safety) and the others, and had a decent time (in a loud bar - once again I can’t tell you why it wasn’t a problem, as normally it would have been).

Sometimes I think we, as autistic people, just assume we won’t like something and don’t risk it - or we assume that we aren’t good at something. Yet in this case, I suspect the person I introduced myself to yesterday wasn’t particularly good at this either, and was very happy to get a chance to meet someone else - just like I was. He does the same kind of work I do, for the same type of workplace, so we had quite a bit of things to talk about, and I’m sure that helped. It was a great decision, one that worked out well for me, and one that helped me enjoy my time here. It’s also something that I’m not supposed to be able to do, and that, to be frank, I’d normally say I wouldn’t be good at doing.

Sometimes it’s a good thing to enjoy something you can’t enjoy, to do something you can’t do. Our abilities (and lack of abilities) can change from one minute to the next - I’m in an area that I’m comfortable in (I used to live here), at a place where I’m immersed in my profession (which is also a perseveration), in an environment around others who are immersed in my profession, who hold very similar jobs to the one I hold. So I have the skills to interact here. Now if you threw me into another country, or another conference with not computer people but people like, say, accountants, I probably wouldn’t be able to manage nearly as well. As it is, I feel I’m doing pretty well. And I get to violate some stereotypes about autistic people - that’s never a bad thing, either.

Jerry Lewis recently (last weekend) offended many with his usage of the word “fag”.

He’s also offended (for years) many of the people the Muscular Dystrophy Association claims to want to help: Actual people with Muscular Dystrophy.

Any bets which group will get the first apology? Will it be (A), a minority that deserves to be respected but which is not the primary group the organization claims to help (homosexuals)? Or, will it be (B), the group the MDA claims to want to help (people with Muscular Dystrophy)? For some reason I suspect (A) will get their (deserved) apology well before (B) will.

It would also be nice if the gay rights group involved asked for an apology on the behalf of all those who Jerry Lewis has insulted and harmed, not just gay people. But I do understand that they aren’t a disability organization.

I’m not saying that Jerry shouldn’t apologize for using the word fag. He should. But even more, he should have apologized years before for his continued actions which harm and undermine the disability community. Check out The Kids Are All Right for more details about the offense (and other harm) he’s caused the very people that he “helps”.

If you hang around autistic communities long enough, you’ll hear from someone who has recently taking the MBTI who wants to know how common certain MBTI types are among autistics. They’ll usually be INTPs or INTJs themselves, and they’ll assume nearly all autistics are, too (or even claim it is impossible to be anything else and autistic).

While making any assumptions about other autistic people’s personalities is unwise, unsupported by science, and not likely to be proven or disproved via any survey that doesn’t correct for selection bias, that isn’t my problem with this type of discussion. My problem with this type of discussion is that, eventually, the word “introvert” gets thrown out, with the MBTI definition of introvert, as, basically someone who doesn’t gain energy from being around other people.

This is a different definition than the English speaking world’s primary definition of “introvert” - the standard definition is typically, “prefers solitude over human contact much of the time.” Energy has nothing to do with it.

If the creators of the MBTI called the extrovert/introvert indicator something else, perhaps “Gets Energy from Socializing/Loses Energy from Socializing”, I’d have no problem with the MBTI. But they didn’t. They redefined introversion in a way that actually has consequences for autistic people. Because of this definition, you’ll hear autistic people talk about how “all autistics are introverted.” That’s a problem because it causes people to believe that autistic people are happiest, most comfortable, and generally better off if they are alone.

That ignores the reality of misery for many autistic people. Many autistic people, unfortunately, lack the quantity of social interaction that they would like. If you participate in these very same autistic communities that talk about MBTI, you’ll hear plenty of people talk about wanting a significant other, being lonely, or feeling excluded. In fact, this is probably one of the biggest problems in autistic peoples’ lives.

There are also autistics who are extremely social. I love spending time with friends, and don’t think my life is complete when that is missing from my life. I’ve met other autistics who love going to parties, love meeting new people, and are happiest when there are tons of people in the room. But, one thing that is common with much of autism is that we do get worn out when we are sensorily overloaded and when we are using our conscious mind to do many of the things neurotypicals do with their unconscious mind. So, when we’re in a loud, noisy room with lots of people talking, we get overloaded - it is very taxing on our auditory system. In addition, many of us are constantly thinking about things, analyzing things, that a neurotypical apparently just “gets” (I say apparently because I’m trusting that neurotypicals are actually being accurate when they say things like figuring out what emotion someone is expressing comes naturally, when many of these things have had very little scientific study - they are simply taken for granted instead).

But these extroverted autistics still like socializing. Yes, after they socialize, they’re going to sleep. Sometimes they’ll be so overloaded other things will happen, much less pleasant than sleep. But that doesn’t eliminate the drive towards extroversion.

Anyone that has watched kids knows that they love to play over almost any other activity. In fact, “play” is one of the defining things about childhood. Yet, despite this being a key part of a child’s life, a key desire, and a key element of who kids are, it can be exhausting. Parents often joke about how well their kids will sleep later while watching them play particularly actively. Yet, there is truth in that humor, the child very likely will be exhausted by the end of the day. But that doesn’t remove the desire to play, anymore than the idea that autistics get worn out by socializing removes our drive to socialize.

Sure, there are autistics who don’t particularly want to socialize. There are neurotypicals who feel the same way. Is there a higher percentage of autistics who fit this category than the percentage of neurotypicals who are truly introverted? I don’t know. But what I do know is that the MBTI isn’t the way to find out, and that whatever tool is developed to figure this out, we need to remember those of us who are extroverted autistics. There are few universals with autism, and introversion is certainly not one of the few absolutes.

In aviation, there’s a phenomenon known as “pilot induced oscillation,” or PIO for short. PIO occurs when a pilot attempts to correct for some (typically) minor flight disturbance in a way that actually increases the disturbance. For instance, a pilot might be trying to level out his plane at 10,000 feet above sea level after a climb. In doing so, he might slightly overshoot the 10,000 foot mark, so he lowers his airspeed to lose a bit of altitude. If he drops too much altitude, he then has to make another correction to get back to altitude, which he might again overshoot, causing yet another correction, etc. When each correction is a bit larger than the last one, it creates a set of corrections which continue to grow until either the pilot stops providing the “correction” or the plane has a structural failure. This NASA page has links to a video showing a very graphic example of a pilot induced oscillation during the landing of an F-8 fighter (fortunately the pilot was able to recover from the oscillation). Sadly, sometimes pilots are unable to recover from these oscillations (NTSB accident report on American Airlines flight 587, which crashed as a result of PIO).

People that don’t fly planes may be more familiar with the concept of “overcorrection” of a road vehicle. The scenario is typically: 1) A person accidentally allows one side of a vehicle to go off the roadway. 2) When the person notices this, they steer sharply back onto the roadway. 3) The vehicle then leaves the opposite side of the roadway, due to the overcorrection. 4) The person responds with an even more violent steering motion to return the car to the roadway. Unfortunately, this often causes the car to roll.

The solution to pilot induced oscillation - and also overcorrection - is simple: slow down the movements. Rather than making a rash correction to return the plane to the right altitude, slowly reduce the descent and then slowly climb - there is rarely a good reason to need to do this quickly. In the American Airlines accident, letting go of all the airplane’s control surfaces would have prevented the crash. With PIO, often the thing that starts the continuous set of corrections is relatively minor and could be ignored with little consequence to the flight. Pilots are actually taught about this today, and practice in simulators to avoid this unintentional oscillation - they learn that most of the time slow and deliberate movements are better than large, quick ones. Most drivers education courses teach the same concept - if your car tires go off the road, slow down, and very carefully and slowly, after thinking about it a bit, re-enter the road; Don’t just turn the wheel sharply to get back on the road!

So, what does this have to do with autism? I’m not entirely sure. But I can talk about what it has to do with this autistic.

I feel emotions very strongly. It affects me very deeply when my friends are upset, when someone is upset at me, or when I see someone in pain. I have a strong desire to be liked, and to be accepted. When those things don’t happen, it affects me greatly.

I’ve learned over the years however to be very careful and deliberate in my response to these emotions. Part of it is because showing a strong emotion often causes the other person to also show a strong emotion, which then causes me to show a stronger emotion, etc - a pilot induced oscillation. Eventually the emotion overwhelms me and I simply cannot cope with it. This is why, for instance, when some really close friends - almost family - moved across the country, I was unable to tell them interactively how much I’d miss them, and how sorry I was that they left. I knew that would cause them to say something similar, which would intensify my emotion, and eventually would threaten to wash away my being in the emotional tide. So, instead, I made a strong effort to show nothing - despite this being an incredibly strong emotion inside me. When I was alone, I was able to write a letter and let them know, in writing, non-interactively, how much I would miss them. It gave me a chance to make that slow and deliberate action to express myself, not the quick reaction that would overwhelm me.

Even good emotions do the same thing. Sometimes a friend helps me in some way, or does something that I really appreciate. While I’d love to let them know how happy I am that they care about me, it’s an incredibly intense emotion, and I’m not sure I can withstand it becoming even more intense. So I might not show excitement or happiness, despite being incredibly happy or excited.

There’s also a dark side. One of the things abuse taught me, wrongly, was that my emotions are wrong. When an abuser hurt me, and I responded by showing that pain, that seemed to increase the abuse. Another part of me felt that showing no emotion was the only way I could possibly have any victory over the abuse - that I, despite incredible pain, didn’t show any sign of that pain.

Fortunately today the abuse is much less of an issue. But the strength of the emotions, and even the worry about how positive emotions may become too intense, still scares me. So I still dampen my emotions. Sometimes I let my guard down, and that’s becoming more common today. Sometimes I’m able to bathe inside a positive emotion, without feeling overwhelmed. Those are wonderful times. But even when I don’t do that, it doesn’t mean I’m not happy or am unaffected by a situation. Of course the same is true when I don’t show evidence of a negative emotion, either.

Sometimes I wish my friends and family knew some of the things I feel. I know I’m not always giving signs, sometimes showing a distant tolerance, for instance, instead of the incredible interest inside of me. Or I might seem unaffected by a friend who is sick or moving, when I’m in fact very affected. I suspect this limitation of our external expression of emotion is a reason that some autistics are wrongly considered to not feel. I imagine it looks, when we are presenting a “level” emotional expression, that we aren’t experiencing great joy or sadness or whatever else. I can say, however, that’s not what it feels like to me. Just maybe some of our supposed lack of emotion is in reality our technique to control our own pilot induced oscillation.

An “insider” just forwarded me a message from the Evidence of Harm mailing list.

Out of all hate and strawman arguments I’ve seen, this really takes the cake. Part of the message:

Of course, this could be said of the ND population as well. The
argument that they are not “diabled, just different thinkers who are
capable of functioning in society, but choose whether they want to
change or learn appropriate skills to function in society”. Then
expect the American people to agree to pay for your one to one
support, incontience products, shelter, or food for your choice to not
overcome adversity. Expect the rest of the world to accomodate your
reality, or suffer the consequences of your lack of
self-control…ummm. Expect parents of young children, responsbile
for bringing them up, to agree to do nothing, which includes
encouraging better choices, accepting responsibility of your actons
versus blaming a neurologial “difference” and giving full
opportunities to become a functional member of socity, because it is
who the child is…yet admit adults who had no interventions need
support, assistance and accomodation.

“ND” refers to “neurodiverse”, which is redefined by some to mean “anyone who doesn’t buy into the mercury causation theory. A few autistic adults have spoken up publicly about this theory - because we believe it to be false, and because we obviously feel quite strongly about autism issues, being people directly affected. These adults are called the “neurodiverse” as an insult by some in the mercury causation camp.

This paragraph constructs a strawman, a prototypical “neurodiverse”. In this strawman, the neurodiverse:

1. Claim that they are not disabled

2. Claim that they are different thinkers

3. Claim that they are capable of functioning in society

4. Claim that they want to be able to choose whether or not they are to learn “appropriate skills to function in society”

5. Expect the American population to pay for 1-to-1 support, incontinence products, shelter, food

6. Expect the population to pay for the services in (5) because of a choice to not “overcome adversity”.

7. Expect everyone to accommodate us *OR* be willing to accept their lack of self-control

8. Expect parents to do “nothing” for their kids (not encouraging good choices, accepting responsibility for actions, or becoming a “functional” member of society)

9. Blame neurological difference for negative actions

10. Claim that adults without prior interventions need support, assistance, and accommodation.

Wow! We really should pull all adult services except for chelation! Okay, maybe not.

Let’s look at these:

#1 - Most of us claim to be disabled, including those of us against the mercury causation theory. We just don’t see disability from a medical viewpoint (and that goes for physical disability as well).

#2 - She is right, we do claim to think differently!

#3 - Yes, we also claim to be able to function in society, with proper supports. Our “functioning” might not look like someone else’s functioning, we may not pay taxes, or whatever else, but, yes, we should have a place in society even if it isn’t the same place an NT might have. That said, many of us do share many of the same places in society as NTs do (even those of us who haven’t been chelated or treated with biomed!).

#4 - We also agree that we should learn skills to function in society. Where we disagree is on what “appropriate” is (it’s not things like “eye contact”) and whether or not all skills needed to function with only NT supports (yes, NTs get supports, they just aren’t seen as supports - most NTs don’t grow or slaughter their own food, for instance) are able to be taught to everyone. Not everyone will be able to, for instance, refrain from screaming when overloaded - no matter how much teaching they get. That doesn’t make it a choice.

#5 - I’m sure the European “neurodiverse” don’t expect America to pay for supports. That said, yes, having basic shelter, food, sanitation, and the support necessary to live a full life is a human right, one that should be provided by governments, just like education and medical care. It should not be based on the moral judgement made of a person. In addition, some of us pay for these things out of pocket, and pay the government in taxes. Personally I don’t consider an adult who needs Depends, and gets them, to be a deadbeat.

#6 - Oh, the “overcome adversity” myth. Not every “adversity” can be overcome, nor should every adversity be overcome. An example is someone who can walk short distances, but at the expense of energy levels the rest of the day. We have a wonderful invention today, the wheelchair, which is designed for that person (among others)! Rather than overcoming their adversity, it is just as ethically valid for them to use a form of locomotion that is appropriate to them. In addition, the problems autistic adults have are generally not laziness.

#7 - Most of us do expect a reasonable accommodation. No, I don’t expect you to smile if I suddenly run across the room and bite you. But I do expect that if I give you a reasonable alternative that you’ll have the consideration of me to employ that alternative. Yes, reasonable. It’s the same expectation people who use wheelchairs have - the ability to access society. Just, in our cases, there happens to be a lot of prejudice against the supports we need, like support persons, good sensory environments, explanations of procedures, clear rules, and predictable schedules. Not to mention not having things like screaming being assumed to be “violence” (sadly even among autistics we fight this - I know of two prominent autistic-run organizations who steadfastly refuse to say screaming is not violence and can even be unintentional in some people).

#8 - I’ve lost count of the times when I’ve suggested, to parents, discipline for an autistic person who is clearly in control of their behavior, yet chooses to misbehave. The key is that it must be a choice for the kid - punishment of uncontrollable behavior is not helpful. I don’t know ANYONE who says parents shouldn’t parent. But perhaps the people who believe the “neurodiverse” don’t want parents to parent could name a name or two?

#9 - Oh, yes, we blame neurology for everything. If that’s the case, can I blame my autism for my great job, and the fact I pay taxes? (Actually I do think it helps) Cool. But there are things that are autism-related which cause me difficulties or cause other people to dislike my actions. It’s not inappropriate to say those are a result of autism, nor is that the same as denying responsibility for my actions.

#10 - I do claim that adults need supports, even if they haven’t had “interventions”. I did have “interventions” (but, OMG, not biomed ones! That must explain it!). So did some of the more “severely” autistic people I know (some even had - gasp - biomed interventions).

So, she’s built a strawman of people who don’t think parents should parent, who think that we have the right to choose antisocial behavior without consequence, who don’t have any limitations other than those we *choose* to not overcome, and who blame every bad thing in their life on autism (strange, but I’ve seen some parents of autistics do that).

I’m just glad I haven’t run into the person described by the strawman. I’ve only run into a few hundred autistic adults, many of whom doubt the mercury theory, believe ourselves to be disabled, desire increased support, and want to see autistic kids raised appropriately. Fortunately some parents (probably most - I think most parents are intelligent enough to make some good decisions) feel the same way.

I just wish that I people wouldn’t be advocating to take others’ human rights away simply because the person targeted doesn’t want to be chelated.