Tuesday, May 27, 2014

Is Autistic the New Normal?


What makes someone autistic?  What should we do about/with/for autistic people?  Can we, should we, get rid of autism?  How do autistic people feel about themselves and about society’s view of them?  What would it be like to be autistic?  If I’m not autistic, then what am I?  Am I normal?  Why does autism exist at all? 


Do you know anyone who has been diagnosed as autistic?  Or perhaps you know someone whom you suspect may be autistic, or you have a friend whose life is affected by an autistic person.  Given the subtle pervasiveness of autism these days, taking a closer look at how this disorder influences and is influenced by our scientific and cultural practices might tell us something interesting about ourselves.  I have been thinking about some of the different ways in which autistic people are portrayed, both by scientific researchers and in the media, and how this is or is not consistent with the personal experiences one might have with an autistic individual.  I am curious about the wide range of possibilities in how one can choose to interact with an autist, from treating them as a less-than-human case to be diagnosed and fixed, to engaging with them in an effort to learn how the world feels from their perspective.  This leads to questions about what it means to be normal, who sets the standards for normalcy, and whether or when it is right or fruitful to try and normalize others, like autists.  Let’s see how autism looks from two opposite perspectives – as a disorder that needs to be explained and fixed, and as a different way of being normal – while seeing how these perspectives do or could interact with one another.

Explaining and Fixing Autism

Autism spectrum disorder:  why does it occur, how can we test for it, and how can we prevent and/or cure it, or at least intervene to manage the symptoms?  Autistic behaviors include impaired social communication such as delayed or nonexistent language development and a lack of empathy toward others, as well as repetitive behaviors, obsession with sameness, oversensitivity, and in some cases specific high cognitive abilities.  Recent blog posts on autism tell us about all kinds of scientific discoveries that link biological, neurological, and genetic factors to autism.  Note how autism is assumed to be a deficit or defect that should be corrected.

This recent blog reports that mitochondrial deficits have been confirmed in children with autism.  These sub-optimally functioning mitochondria are in cells called granulocytes, which are an immune cell responsible for fighting infection in the body.  The authors suggest that the impaired functioning of these immune cells results in reduced cognitive functioning in autistic people.  It seems to be a general assumption within the research community that cognitive functioning is reduced for autists, as opposed to being perhaps a different style of cognitive functioning (as we will explore below).  There is also a strong desire to want to say that the impaired functioning of these cells causes autistic behavior, but as with studies that attempt to link genetic or neural patterns to autism, thus far we can speak only of correlations.

Another recent blog post warns that a prenatal screening test for autism might be around the corner.  According to the author, neuropsychiatric researcher David Cox, the approach is to look for differing protein fingerprints in the blood samples of autistic and non-autistic people; so far there is a blood test that is 80% accurate in detecting Asperger’s syndrome (the highest end of the autism spectrum disorder).  Next steps include improving the accuracy of this test and generalizing it for autism, which would make it available as a prenatal screening tool.  Let’s hope that the obvious ethical implications regarding whether a potentially autistic fetus should be aborted will be carefully considered in conjunction with the development of such a test!

Scientific research and ethical issues regarding autism are complexified by the fact that autism is such a wide spectrum.  While a severely autistic individual may require care and intervention to be able to survive, high-functioning autists may not desire to be either diagnosed or normalized.  When scientific research focuses on looking for deficits in autistic individuals – impaired cellular functions, compromised brain activity, unusual genetics – the message is that autism makes someone less than normal, a case to be prevented and fixed.  But what if the “abnormal” brain scan of a high-functioning autist with specific high cognitive abilities is actually indicative of an enhancement rather than a deficit?  How would scientific research on autism itself be enhanced by a shift in the attitude of the research community from approaching autism as a deficit, to viewing autism as a new kind of normal?



Autism as the New Normal

From the perspective of being its own sort of normal, autism is simply a different way of making sense of the world, and we can look upon it as an opportunity to discover new and interesting ways of being.  Just like any other people, autistic people have a variety of personalities and interests, suggesting that there is probably not one blanket intervention for helping them to better survive in our society.  What if we approached intervention in autism by looking for the “normal” within each autistic individual, supporting them to each achieve their own best normal?  A variety of recent blog posts support such a notion, or at least complexify this topic.  Ask yourself how these following viewpoints might be able to influence scientific research on autism.

As described on this blog for Coursera, a service that offers free online university courses, severely autistic 17-year old Daniel loves learning but is unable to attend a standard university program.  Amazingly, however, with extensive support from his parents and a teacher, who trained him to use a letterboard to give answers (as an alternative to speaking), and taught him to be an “expert close reader” by using periodic reading comprehension questions to keep his attention focused through long complicated works, he successfully completed six university level courses, including poetry, mythology, and literature.  “Dan loved learning and kept steering us toward subjects where he would be asked to compare ideas because connecting different pieces of information into knowledge made him feel, as he spelled to us, ‘less autistic’”.  Do all autistic people want to feel “less autistic”?  No, for example in her video “In My Language”, Amanda Baggs claims that learning to speak our language is a narrowing and constricting experience compared to her autistic self-expression.  However, for Daniel, being able to read and critically comment on his classmates’ 800 word essays, while also writing his own essays including logically constructed arguments, all in a community of fellow online students who acknowledged and appreciated him, helped him emerge from his sense of isolation. 

Emily Willingham is a developmental biology researcher, writer, and parent of an autistic child.  In her recent blog she explains how it makes a difference for her son whether autism is portrayed as a condition of suffering to be pitied, or as a way of being in the world with its own unique potential to achieve.  However, while “journalists seem increasingly to recognize that autistic people can view their autism as who they intrinsically are and that writing about autism as a universal negative dehumanizes and depersonalizes autistic people,” in autism research “what you won’t find is enough research that involves asking autistic people themselves about themselves, about what they need, what would support and help them most, what would help them learn and thrive and manage the deficits that come with their condition.”  While Willingham still uses the language of “deficit” in relation to autism, she does take the important step of including the autists themselves as important factors in the research about autism.

Finally, what does this mean for non-autistic individuals who might also be suffering in terms of navigating society successfully?  A recent blog post partially reproduced a letter from a woman in her 30s who was wondering whether her issues with depression and poor family relations might be explained or ameliorated if she could get an autistic diagnosis for herself.  She says about herself, “I have always felt like an outsider who never quite fits in.  From a young age, I’ve always felt distant from those around me.  I feel I have very little in common with people and that we are on different wavelengths”; however, she worries that she might be too high-functioning to be diagnosable as autistic.  But where exactly is this fuzzy line between a high-functioning autist and what we could call a low-functioning “normal” person?  How many individuals out there are lonely or depressed, or suffer from feeling different and distant from others?  Given the arguably general climate of anxiety and alienation in our current culture, perhaps what this suffering woman desires in seeking a diagnosis of autism is a sense of belonging, a new standard of normalcy by which to measure herself. 


So, has autism become a new kind of normal?  Yes, perhaps there exists a way to be autistic that is relevant for us to recognize and honor.  At the same time, we should not forget that the ultimate standard of normalcy by which we can successfully measure ourselves is our own.  Lest you think, however, that the moral of this story is that we should all pat ourselves on the back for being our own kind of normal, the implications of shifting to such a view are more extensive than self-affirmation!  Social beliefs, for example in normalcy, influence scientific practice in both overt and unconscious ways.  As we saw above for scientific research on autism, a belief that there exists a given standard of normalcy leads to the assumption that autism is about deficits that must be explained and fixed.  A shift in this belief to viewing autism as its own kind of normal will lead to reformulations of research questions and potentially exciting discoveries about the genetic, biological, and neurological markers that are affiliated with different ways of making sense of the world.