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The tin can conundrum: the problem with “labels”

Most of us have probably heard the saying by now. “Labels go on tin cans, autism is a diagnosis”. It’s true, calling autism a label is inherently invalidating. Being Autistic is an identity, a culture. As Dr. Chloe Farahar of Aucademy explains, autism itself is an abstract concept, the only thing that exists is Autistic people. So why do we feel the need to separate out and diagnose people according to the way their brain works.

After all, this is the neurodiversity movement, are we not trying to end the medicalisation of different neurocognitive styles?

Let’s consider neurotypicality. You don’t get “diagnosed” as neurotypical. This is because people with neurotypical bodyminds are able to perform their cultures neuronormative standards. They are able to assimilate into society, and therefore are generally good and obedient profit machines that don’t upset the status quo.

Neurodivergent people, however, are somewhat of a wrench in the gears. We can not perform neuronormative standards, not comfortably anyway. We require the masters house to be dismantled and rebuilt. Here’s where the conundrum comes into play.

As Dr. Nick Walker explains in her book Neuroqueer Heresies, the master will never give you the tools to dismantle their house. In this case the masters tools look like a society that disables neurodivergent people, and uses that disability to pathologise neurodivergence by locking all of the support that might improve our lives behind a medical diagnosis. That medical diagnosis, in turn, is then used as a marketing tool where by people have to pay for diagnosis (in many countries), pay for support, and in fact the “autism label” is used to wack a premium on anything that might make our lives more comfortable.

Let’s not forget that the ABA industry pulls down millions every year by selling the idea that they can “fix” your “broken” child, converting them into a person who can perform to the neurotypical standard. “Indestinguishable from their peers” has become somewhat of a motto for those who want to see autism eradicated.

So how do we break out of this conundrum?

As Dr. Walker says, we “throw away the masters tools”. We find and bring the tools necessary to dismantle a society that oppresses us. In this case, the masters tools are diagnosis and the so-called “supports” that we find locked away behind it.

It may sound radical, but we need to work towards a world where diagnosis is no longer necessary. A neurocosmopolitan society where no one neurocognitive style holds power over another. It’s radical, and sounds deceptively simple, but it isn’t.

In order for this to work, we have to dismantle the structural oppression that our current economic systems wield.

We have to understand the intersections between different minority groups.

We need to work together to create a world that doesn’t value arbitrary values over the value of human life.

This probably won’t be achieved in our lifetime, maybe not in our children’s lifetimes, but it can be achieved. We just have to take the first steps in the right direction.

A direction that takes us away from the pathologisation of different minds.

So let me end by saying this. My name is David, I’m neurodivergent. It isn’t an illness, I don’t require fixing because I am not broken. I live in a world that doesn’t fit me well by design. I refuse to accept that world, and I hope to leave a better one than the one I was born into.

More on Zeno’s Paradoxes and the issues with Autistic to non-Autistic communication

As you may have noticed from my most recent blog post, I am somewhat down a rabbit hole at the moment. In my previous article I discussed Zeno’s paradox of plurality and how it applies to the dehumanisation of Autistic people and the double empathy problem.

Today I would like to consider another of Zeno’s paradoxes and how it applies to the double empathy problem.

This particular paradox was known as the Dichotomy Paradox. Essentially, it explains that when travelling from point A to point B, one must first travel to the halfway point between the two. To then travel from that point to the destination, you must travel half way again. This continues infinitely when travelling towards a fixed destination and thus Zeno argued that you can never reach point B.

When considering communication across different neurocognitive styles, one must also consider what the goal is. If we presume that the goal is “successful communication” then the double empathy problem tells us that this is very difficult due to the different styles of communication. Despite this, Autistic people are always expected to be the ones to put the emotional labour into communicating. This has been discussed by Rachel Cullen, a recording of a livestream with Aucademy featuring them can be found here and here).

We then encounter the dichotomy paradox. Neurotypicals remain a fixed point in the goal of successful communication, while we as Autistics are constantly expected to move towards the goal by accommodating their preferred communication styles. It is as if we are constantly reaching the halfway point, and never reaching our destination. No matter how well we accommodate neurotypical preferences, we are caught in an infinite regression of distance, not achieving the aim.

This to me, highlights the deeper issue of dehumanisation and objectification of Autistics. Neurotypicals (perhaps subconsciously, sometimes consciously) consider themselves the pinnacle of humanity, a goal that all should be striving for. We know from the existence of the various compliance based behavioural interventions, that Neurotypicals do believe this in many cases. Evidenced by the fact that it is considered “gold-standard” to teach Autistic people to hide their Autistic nature.

As Dr. Monique Botha mentioned in their recent seminar, there is a reason why researchers and professionals insist on person-first language. “I want to eradicate autism” sounds much less like genocide than “I want to eradicate Autistic people”. However, both of those statements mean the same thing. This is justified because whether or not they overtly see it, neurologically queer behaviour and experience is seen as non-human. Remi Yergeau argued this dehumanisation was due (at least in part) to a perceived lack of rhetoricity in their book Authoring Autism.

Autistic people are viewed as husks, mindlessly performing nothing, controlled by an abstract spectre called autism. This then is perhaps why so many neurotypical people insist on person-first language, and ignore our preference of identity -first language. Why would they take a step towards the all consuming spectre? Surely it is better to leave such a thing trapped in that infinite journey towards a goal that is never to be reached.

This, then, is the appeal of neuroqueering to me. When I embrace my neuroqueer self, I no longer have to be trapped in the infinite journey towards performative neurotypicality. I escape the dichotomy paradox by abandoning societal expectations, and being true to myself. True to what nature intended for me. I am Autistic, I am divergent, and that divergence is a thing of beauty.

We need to raise up our fellow Autistics, high above the dichotomy of neurotypicality and neurodivergence. We need to embrace a world in which these words are redundant in meaning because no one group has the power to oppress another; and when our fellow Autistics are lost in the dark, we need to shine our own light, and guide them back to the daylight.

Mental health and the neurodiversity paradigm

When considering the landscape of mental health, we also have to consider the normalisation of stigma and the dehumanisation of those who are struggling.

Since the advent of psychiatric medicine, mental health concerns have been described in pathological language. What if we used the language of the neurodiversity paradigm? How would it impact the wellbeing of those with lived experience if we recognised “mental illness” as a form of neurodiversity on a global level?

In my own personal experience, recognising my voice-hearing as neurodivergence has helped mitigate some of my distress. Knowing that my brain is different, rather than broken removes the pressure to fix myself, and instead has encouraged me to engage with talking therapies that are teaching me to co-exist with my personal experiences.

Don’t misunderstand me, there are still plenty of times when I feel broken. Such is the episodic nature of my mental health.

Reframing our mental health experiences as natural variation of minds, rather than sub-human errors in a computer may help many people by removing the self-blame that so many of us in the mental health community experience.

Rather than “you are broken and need fixing” we can consider the much more nuanced approach that there are infinite variations of the human mind, living in a world designed for one predominant style of brain. It seems natural to me that such a world would be incompatible with many people, and as such we experience suffering.

No longer do we take medicine to fix a broken mind, but instead to support our wellbeing in a world that causes our suffering.

Of course, we should mention access to diagnosis. Many of us miss out on our part in the neurodivergent community because our diagnosis is wrong or incorrect. While the general attitude in neurodivergent communities is that diagnosis is a privilege and not a requirement, we need to push to make sure that people acquire appropriate diagnosis in a timely manner. We need to make sure that it is an accessible option for all.

Eventually, however, I hope, a world will exist where diagnosis is a thing of the past. Where we can live in a neurocosmopolitan society such as that posited by Dr. Nick Walker. A world in which no one group has privilege. A world where we can all co-exist. A world a long way off perhaps, but still a world I will fight for.

Once we start realising that diagnostic criteria for ALL mental health is based on the neurodivergent person in distress, we have to become curious about what these neurodivergent minds would look like in a world that didn’t cause them to suffer. What a beautiful neuroculture we could build. A curious thought to say the least.

Neuroqueering the Neuroculture: Exploring our place in society through the neuroqueer lense

Recently I started talking about a concept I call neuroculture, by discussing the risk of harm to society if the prevailing neuroculture becomes homogenous (find that discussion here). In this discussion, I would like to explore our individual contributions to said neuroculture, and how we can effect change in a neurotypical dominated culture.

It’s no secret that neurodivergent people are actively oppressed by society. We live in a neuroculture that assumes anything outside of neuronormative standards is broken or sick. Neurotypicality has become the dominant culture, and with it, the pathology paradigm.

Despite this, largely on the Internet, smaller and more contained neurocultures are developing. These cultures are still largely homogenous, consisting mainly of a particular neurocognitive style. However, the advancement of the neurodiversity movement and an increased understanding of what is and isn’t neurodivergence is allowing people of many different ‘flavours’ of neurodivergence to come together. Thanks to this, there are now neurocultures developing that allow for the inclusion of multiple neurocognitive styles.

So now, we have two distinct neurocultures, the dominant neurotypical culture, and a neurodivergent sub-culture.

Here is where neuroqueering comes into the mix.

In order for society to survive, we need a fully inclusive neuroculture, that allows neurotypical and neurodivergent people to co-exist without any one group retaining more privilege than another. Effectively, a neurocosmopolitan society. In order for this to happen, the prevailing neuroculture needs to subvert and erase the neuronormative standards that hold us back in the pathology model.

Neuroqueer theory tells us that the best way to destroy neuronormativity is to intentionally queer our neurological processes. To put it another way, the mask must be fully destroyed, and we must act in a natural and authentic way, not the way that society expects us to act.

This will be difficult for everyone in the current neuroculture, but especially difficult for neurotypicals. Neuronormative standards come easily to them, and subversion of those standards has been stigmatised for a long time. Therefore, the neurodivergent led neuroculture needs to model the queering of societies expectations and roles. It is on us to teach the dominant culture that there is another way to exist.

By engaging in the act of neuroqueering, we ‘normalise’ the subversion of neuronormativity, and the more of us who do so, the more ‘abnormal’ society as a whole will become. Isn’t that a wonderful thought?

Of course it’s not a quick or simple process. Many of us are not privileged with the safety to just drop the mask completely. That’s why advocates and activists must work everyday, and change the neuroculture one small step at a time; until each drop becomes an ocean of change.

Society needs a cosmopolitan neuroculture to thrive.

Is Autopia possible? Realities of an Autistic homeland

At Aucademy we often talk of a perfect Autistic homeland, affectionately dubbed Autopia. Conceptualised as a place in which all Autistics can lead peaceful and comfortable lives, it sounds like a dream come true; but what are the realities of such a place? Is such a place even possible?

This evening I was discussing such things with a good friend of mine, and one thing became clear. Accommodating Autistics does not necessarily mean all disabled people are accommodated.

Let’s use the UK supermarkets “autism hour” as an example.

In the UK, many supermarkets have an hour a week where they reduce sensory stimuli, and encourage only Autistic people to attend to their shopping in order to reduce crowds. It helps, but there is a wider conversation about only doing this for an hour a week that needs to be addressed another time. We can, however, look at why this can’t be done all the time.

Lower lighting is great for Autistics with no particular intersections of other disabilities, but what of those with conditions of the eye that make seeing in dim light difficult? In our attempt to grant privileged access to one minority, we have removed access for another minority.

This really is the crux of the issue with creating Autopia. Autistic people live at many intersections of experience, and any attempt to accommodate everyone together, will likely marginalise another minority.

A true Autopia would require an individual approach, where each person’s living environment is adapted to there individual needs. It would require a bespoke design.

This however presents an issue with shared spaces. Autistic people represent a great deal of intersections with race, gender, disability, and so forth. The creation of a truly inclusive and safe space for Autistics would require more than sensory rooms and a living situation outside of the grasp of capitalism.

The complexities of creating shared space for all Autistics, both physically, and virtually, is still something that needs to be addressed.

Minority groups from all intersections have been telling us about the bigotry they face within our online community. Non-speakers getting attacked for their use of language when they have no access to Autistic spaces, black and trans Autistics having their experiences ignored and invalidated.

These are just a couple of examples of things that need to be addressed if Autopia is to ever become reality.

Whether we care to admit it or not, the Autistic does have unwritten rules, and some in our community react poorly when newcomers do not understand the nuances of our community. This in itself creates issues of accessibility.

This is personally why I adore neuroqueer theory. Should we not live a life true to our natural selves? We need to encourage Autistics to live authentic lives, not exclude them from our spaces.

This is not to excuse the intentional perpetuation of pathology paradigm views and bigotry, but a comment on the fact that we were all raised with problematic ideas of what it is to be Autistic. Was it not access to the community that helped us change those views, and embrace the neurodiversity paradigm.

There is no “one-size-fits-all” approach to a neurocosmopolitan society. That approach is provincialist in nature, creating privilege for some while marginalising others.

On the whole, I constantly see a great deal of positive growth and evolution from the Autistic community, but like any societal movement as it reaches maturity, the Autistic rights movement has some creases that need ironing out.

Autopia is a beautiful goal to shoot for. It’s time we came together and made it a reality for all Autistics. Together we can build a neuroqueer future, and on that basis, a neurocosmopolitan society.

Isn’t that something worth fighting for?

Autopia: The reality of accommodating Autistics

At Aucademy we have long talked about our vision of a perfect Autistic utopia, affectionately called “Autopia”. The vision is of a collective living scenario, away from the pressures of a world that puts neuronormative standards and culturally accepted neurotypicality, ahead of any neurocognitive type that does not fit into its restrictive box. We often imagine a world with sensory safe spaces, collaborative living arrangements, and a distinct lack of hierachy.

Such a world would be brilliant, and beautiful. However, the reality of creating a world where Autistics can live in peace and comfort as their authentic selves is more complicated.

As discussed in a previous article, we are at a transitional point for the world. The neurodiversity movement fights every day to ensure equitable and fair treatment of all neurodivergent people, but we are still some way off from a world in which no one is given privilege, and all can access the world comfortably.

What would such a world look like?

The world we wish to create is not as simple as safe spaces and collaborative living. It first must do away with the pathology paradigm. Currently, neurodivergence is treated as a medical issue, with any associated disability often being viewed through the lens of the medical model of disability. Converse to this we have the social model of disability.

Our first steps towards Autopia require us to understand the ramifications of the social model. Under this model, disability can be considered to be the result of oppression. Rather than arising from a medical deficit within the person, the social model suggests that we are disabled by a society that fails to give us equal access to the environment. Thus, this failure can be considered a form of oppression. In some cases the oppression is a direct thing, with those responsible intentionally refusing access to disabled people, in other cases the oppression is more indirect, caused by a lack of understanding that inadvertently perpetuates the oppression of the disabled person.

Ableism is also another consideration. Once society has effectively oppressed and disabled a person, it then discriminates against them. Many disabled people are forced out of the work force by such ableism, forced to survive off of whatever money their government decides is appropriate (often with little care as to whether or not that money is enough to survive on). People are judged by societies standard of what a disabled person should look like, and what they are capable of, with little interest in what the disabled person has to say about their experience.

Understanding the ramifications of the social model, and the ableism that follows societies oppression of those who do not fit into culturally accepted standards, allows us to start seeing the pathology paradigm that has kept the neurodivergent on a lower rung of the ladder for quite some time.

This is where the neurodiversity movement comes in, and where an understanding of the neurodiversity paradigm becomes paramount.

To create Autopia, we must do away with cultural neuronormativity, and accept that human minds are diverse and beautiful. We must understand that no single neurocognitive style is superior to another. Ultimately, we must create a world where words like neurotypical and neurodivergent become irrelevant. This bold new world would not need such words, because no one is considered “normal” or “typical”, and no one is considered “different” or “atypical”. It is a world in which we all simply co-exist. No one has privilege over another. The world and society at large are accessible to all.

Unfortuantely, such a world is quite some time away. There is a great deal of work to be done to achieve it. The current world we live in traumatises Autistic and otherwise neurodivergent people on a daily basis. For more reading on how society harms Autistics, please see the Creating Autistic Suffering series housed on this blog, the series is authored by myself and Tanya Adkin.

To achieve Autopia, we must challenge our beliefs and thoughts. Society has done a good job of forcing the pathology paradigm on us. Now is the time to unlearn those lessons.

Neuroprovincialism, neurocosmopolitanism, and the liminal nature of the neurodiversity movement

Before I start, I highly recommend reading Dr. Nick Walker’s book Neuroqueer Heresies alongside this blog article. In particular, the chapter on Neurocosmopolitanism. It has heavily inspired this piece, and it would not exist without it.

Liminality is essentially the point of transition between two states. If one were to walk from the living room to the hallway, the doorway would represent the liminal point between the two rooms.

The neurodiversity movement then, can be considered the liminal point between neuroprovincialism and neurocosmopolitanism.

Prior to the neurodiversity movement’s creation, the world can be considered largely to have fallen under provincialism. There is no equity, cultural neuronormativity was the standard by which everyone was measured, all that fell outside of that standard was considered deviant, or broken. The pathology paradigm ruled our viewpoint. It was a narrow-minded world lacking the sophistication of an equitable society.

The future that the neurodoversity movement ultimately works towards, is what can be considered a neurocosmopolitan society. In such a society, no single neurological identity is considered standard. Terms like “neurotypical” and “neurodivergent” cease to be relevant, because the world recognises and actively celebrates the diversity of minds. We are still a long way from that future, but change is happening.

Thus, the neurodiversity movement can be considered the liminal point between the two. It serves as a doorway between two different worlds, one in which autistic and otherwise neurodivergent people are pathologised, oppressed, and hated, and another where we are treated as equals, seen as a fact of life, and not something to be fixed or eradicated.

When we consider liminality, doorways between places, we have to consider whether that doorway is suitable for all people to use.

Some will choose simply not to pass through the liminal space. Many of us are terrified of the unknown, and stay with what is familiar, no matter how detrimental. Some will leap forth, embracing a new state of existence. But what of those for whom the door is not designed?

It is known that the neurodiversity movement still has work to be done when it comes to fully including particular minority groups. Often non-speaking members of the movement find themselves talked over, although many are working to reduce that. BIPoC individuals have long been the victims of provincialist societies racism and oppression, and sadly such prejudice and bigotry can still be found in various movements for societal change.

Simply put, it is vital for us to ensure that the doorway can accommodate all who wish to pass through. If the neurodiversity movement can not serve as an appropriate liminal space for all, then a neurocosmopolitan society will be impossible to achieve.

Each of us contains inherent prejudice, passed down from the old society. If we wish to move through this liminal place, and emerge into the light of a new world for all, we must dismantle the thinking of yesteryear.

Dismantle the egotistical side of ourselves that centres all conversation around the ‘me’, and extend our viewpoint and attention to include every voice. We all have something to say, but we don’t all have the privilege of a platform.

The first step to building any doorway, is to design one that all may use should they wish.

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