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May 11 2023
What is it about ABA that is so harmful to Autistic people?

There are many things within this world that can cause controversy in minority communities. One less discussed in mainstream society, but of significant interest to the Autistic community is Applied Behaviour Analysis (ABA). Nothing sets Autistic Rights activists ready to march into battle quite like the normative violence of behaviourism.

So, what is ABA?

ABA is based on a school of psychological thought known as behaviourism. Behaviourism itself being a social science that uses observable behaviour to investigate psychological values of an organism. Behaviourism is in a lot of things that we interact with. In fact, if you own a dog, you have probably already encountered it.

ABA, then, is an applied version of this science. It uses functional analysis of an individuals behaviour to identify the function of a given behaviour with the intention of identifying target behaviours to be extinguished or reinforced.

This is done through the use of positive reinforcement (for example, rewarding a behaviour) and aversive techniques ranging from planned ignoring to the use of electric shocks. The aim of these techniques is to make an individual conform to societies normative standards of behaviour, which is why it’s relevant to Autistic individuals.

Many people state that Lovaas created it after his work on The Feminine Boy Project (Gay Conversion Therapy), which utilises the same techniques. Technically, this is true, although it would be more accurate to say that Lovaas took a technique that already existed and made it much more sadistic. Behavioural Analysis was, in fact, seen as early as 1947 within the context of animal behaviourism in Arkansas.

Lovaas was famously known for stating that Autistic people looked like humans, but were more akin to something sub-human that needed to be constructed into an acceptable form. It is unsurprising then that much of his work on ABA was informed by the sadistic practice of Gay Conversion Therapy.

Back to the point

History aside, ABA is a harmful practice, and it’s particularly offensive when we consider its use among neurodivergent people.

Our current society is built from the bottom up. The economic policies and cultural practices in many parts of the world are built on a foundation of colonialism. This has led to a prominent neoliberal attitude that individuals should be self-reliant producers of profit that adhere to certain standards of behaviour. These standards can be considered the basis of normativity, although more specifically we need to talk about neuronormativity.

What is so dangerous about neuronormativity is that it requires us to embody our neurology and experience of the world in very specific ways. Any deviation from a perception of ‘normality’ is seen as abberant and in need of correction. It has significant links to other forms of oppression, such as white supremacy and queerphobia.

How does this relate to ABA?

The purpose of ABA is to assimilate an individual into these neuronormative performances of behaviour. It does not take regard to whether this performance is comfortable for the individual, and it takes little account of the damage that the process of forced assimilation can have on a person.

Autistic people are monotropic. We have minds that prefer singular, hyperfocused attention tunnels. Our cognitive resources preferentially assign themselves to one thing at a time, building inertia that can make rapid transition between points of focus a traumatic experience.

This presents an issue when we consider that a neuronormative approach to the world is designed for a polytropic mind that can assign its cognitive resources across multiple streams of focus simultaneously without building too much inertia. ABA encourages Autistic people to live polytropically.

Why is this a problem?

Autistic people who are forced to behave and live polytropically are at risk of a phenomenon called monotropic split. This is caused because a monotropic mind can not regulate its attentional resources across multiple streams. Monotropic split can ultimately lead to a range of mental health concerns and even suicidality.

ABA creates this issue for many of the Autistic people who go through it.

This is why I view ABA as a tool of normative violence. It is an aggressive tool of forced assimilation that does not care for the harm it does. Many ABA practitioners will claim that ABA is no longer harmful, but while its goals remain to force conformity, it will create this issue of monotropic split.

In order to create happy and healthy Autistic people, we need to support them to be as independent as possible in the world while living in a way that is comfortable for them. This means allowing Autistic people to be interest-led, and to regulate their senses and emotions naturally rather than hide their struggles for the comfort of others.

I am not a fool. ABA won’t be ended overnight. It is a billion dollar industry that uses lobbying and misinformation to maintain its hold over stakeholders. In the short run, we have to focus on harm reduction efforts, which can range from supporting survivors to sewing the seeds of dissent amongst its practitioners.

We can not and will not stop speaking out against it. Slowly but surely, we can shift the power imbalance. However, we have to recognise that while the foundation of colonialism exists, practices like ABA will remain an issue for those who do not adhere to the cult of normality.

David Gray-Hammond 0 Comments
Apr 30 2023
Reclaiming Neurofuturism: Rhizomatic communities and the Chaotic Self

I have recently begun to explore the idea of the Autistic Rhizome as a futurist ideal of what the Autistic community could look like. In this concept, we explore communities that exist of networks with no single point of origin. They are interlinked but not dependent on one another for their existence.

You can read more about this here and here.

Co-existing with this idea is my concept of The Chaotic Self, which I first discussed in my book A Treatise on Chaos: Embracing the Chaotic Self and the art of neuroqueering. This idea position’s the Self as a fluid entity, constantly changing with each new interaction, making one’s identity as changeable as your hair colour.

What I would like to consider is the interplay between these two concepts.

If we consider the Autistic Rhizome, we are connected to one another either directly or indirectly. We are not independent of each other, but also do not rely on one another for our space in this rhizomatic network. What happens when we queer our neurology and alter our sense of Self?

As the Chaotic Self alters and grows, its relationship with the rest of the rhizome is altered. This affords it a different set of interactions and experiences, which in turn queers the Self further. Due to the interconnected nature of such a rhizomatic network, neuroqueer theory becomes farther reaching than ones own neurology. By queering ourselves, we are queering entire sections of humanity.

One could assume that at a certain degree of separation within the network, our reach is stifled, but as we queer ourselves, the relational change with our immediate environment transfers the process onwards to the rest of our community in somewhat of an u predictable manner.

Perhaps then, the argument could be made that if we want to alter society, we must first alter ourselves. When Walker (2021) tells us to “throw away the masters tools”, we must realise that we are the masters tools. Society has made us complicit in our own imprisonment. To throw away the tools means queering ourselves on a fundamental level. We must become different on an individual level and, in turn, alter the world around us.

As such, to embrace the Chaotic Self requires us to embrace the rhizome. We must recognise that any change to our own embodiment and subsequent relationship with the environment alters more than our inner world, it has knock on effects for the human collective, that itself is an ever-changing, amorphous entity.

Further Reading

Neuroqueer Heresies by Nick Walker

A Treatise on Chaos by David Gray-Hammond

I also recommend becoming familiar with the work of Delueze and Guattari for a broader understanding of some of the motivations behind this post.

David Gray-Hammond 1 Comments
Mar 30 2023
Stop blaming minority groups for mass shootings

There is a bitter irony as I begin to write this post. What many of you will not know is how I became a blogger. I wrote for an immensely popular outlet, I won’t name them, but they support Autism Speaks. I think just based on that, you can understand why I no longer write for them.

The very first article I ever published, my first outpouring of disdain at the violent hatred of the world we live in, was about people blaming mass shootings on mental health issues. To my surprise, it amounted to almost 20,000 views in 24 hours. Many felt very validated, but of course, the gun nuts of America jumped to the defence of guns. I assume they read the title and not much else.

So, here we are again. Over half a decade since that article was published. I feel it’s time to draw a line in the sand. The nonsense of the world we live in is taking too many lives.

Hearing about the mass shooting in Texas upset me. Not just because of the unacceptable loss of life, but because of the media reporting around the fact that the shooter was a trans person. I am aware that trans people live a life of near constant threats, and the focus on the shooters gender identity will not improve this.

But I am not Trans. I can’t tell you what this specific event is like because their are cultural privileges that I have, and they prevent me from understanding the reality of this particular shooting. I do, however, feel compelled to comment on the broader issue that this has once again highlighted.

Every time a mass shooting happens, it seems that the media will link it to a minority group. Somehow, there is always an underprivileged cultural subset that the salivating masses can turn their vitriol on. Mental health leads to mass murder, Autistic people are predators, Trans people are apparently indoctrinating children, and Black people are guilty of everything. The list of ridiculous accusations has gone on for so long that I won’t even begin to try and recite the whole thing.

Why does the world need to blame minority groups?

I believe this comes down to normativity and essentialism. When we consider the framing of minority groups in stories such as these, we have to consider that;

  • The world has been taught that there is one most “normal” sort of human. The right colour, brain, sexuality, gender, embodiment.
  • You are only worth as much as the body you are born into.
  • Those that fall out of cultural normality (read as; normative standards) are fundamentally less human than those that don’t.

So now we have a world of minority groups who are already traumatised beyond belief by the inhumane treatment of those with privilege beyond their own. We do become radicalised, to the extent (usually) that we will actively voice and enact dissent against the oppressive power structures of our normative world. Yes, some of us do take part in violence.

No, that doesn’t make us dangerous.

Think about it. Think about it really hard. Every country in the world has innumerable minority groups. In fact, if we measured minority as an identity itself, we would probably no longer be a minority, but instead a vastly diverse majority.

So we have a world full of minorities, and yet the vast majority of mass shootings outside of warzones happen in the US. I would venture a guess that even if you counted warzones, the US would still top the list. What is the variable that is being ignored? What can we change to make a difference.

It’s the guns.

Minority groups are not murderers. We are not the monsters you were taught to hide from as a child. Not once did I ask my mother to check for Trans people under my bed. The monsters are the lawmakers and lobbyists that keep gun laws in the US so lacklustre that a person can walk into a primary school with a semi-automatic and two pistols, ending three children’s lives, and the lives of three children.

The people who are responsible for this are the pro-gun cohort. They have the blood of those children on their hands. They have the weight of traumatised children and families that miss their loved ones. May it rest so heavy on their soul that they are forced to lay down their arms.

Stop blaming minorities for mass shootings. The problem is the guns.

David Gray-Hammond 1 Comments
Feb 2 2023
Neuroqueer theory and the advent of social DEcontructivism

Neuroqueer theory is the idea that one can subvert normality by expressing and embodying the Self in ways that break free from the constraints of colonial society. It is a liberational practice that is accessible to all. No matter your neurocognitive style, you can subvert the expectations of what it means to be a “normal human”. By engaging in neuroqueering, we subvert the very idea of what is meant by the word “human” and explore the infinite diversity of our species. The first step to this is to recognise the social construction of all identity. We have to recognise that the way we identify ourselves, and our sense of Self, is entirely built upon the interpretation and expectations of others.

This opens up interesting conversations about the scope of social constructivism and objective truth. If all knowledge that builds our identity is socially constructed, how can one be sure of who they are?

In my book A Treatise on Chaos I discuss the Chaotic Self, the ever growing, ever changing sense of identity that we possess. I recognise that through our experiences and ongoing learning, our identity is a moving target. As social knowledge changes, so too does our sense of Self. I am not who I was ten years ago, and I will be someone different in another ten years. This highlights the importance of neuroqueer theory in the philosophical discourse of epistemology.

Neuroqueer theory might be reasonably assumed to tie into social constructivism, but in a more accurate sense it’s social deconstructivism. Neuroqueer theory is the art of deconstructing knowledge and creating new understandings. It liberates us from past notions and inter-generational trauma by considering that humanities primary purpose (if there is such a thing) is to adjust paradigms given new information. To consider it in other words, humanity exists to evolve beyond the constraints of cultural normativity.

This in itself becomes somewhat paradoxical. If neuroqueerness becomes the new normal, is it still neuroqueer?

My suggestion is no. By viewing neuroqueer theory as belonging to the idea of social deconstructivism, it can remain neuroqueer provided that it still pushes people to deconstruct socially acquired ideas of normality. A post-normal society requires us to escape from satisfaction. It encourages us to question information, and approach life through a critical lens. For neuroqueer theory to work we must be critical of all assumed normality. It tells us that there is no liberation until we deconstruct societies marginalisation of all minority groups. Beyond that, we must dismantle the oppression of humanity by those that deem themselves to be the higher power of our perceived social hierarchy.

When one begins to delve into neuroqueer theory, you begin to dismantle all that you have held to be true. This means that social deconstruction is a painful process. Like all growth, it leaves you with an ache. It becomes necessary to embrace your existential pain and sit with it as you explore your own subjective truth. This, perhaps, is what people struggle with the most.

David Gray-Hammond 1 Comments
Dec 21 2022
The infinite and I: Exploring my Neuroqueer Self

Of recent, I have been somewhat hyperfocused on how people understand their own identity, and our individual sense of Self. I have discussed in my book The New Normal how the Self is socially constructed from our interactions with others and our wider environment. I think, however, it’s time to really zoom in (or perhaps, out?) on what the Self really is to me.

If being multiply neurodivergent has taught me anything, it’s that the variation of the human mind that exist are as numerous as the people on earth, but what of the Self? How many variations of me are possible?

First it is necessary to consider how my Self came into existence. It was constructed and scaffolded, not just by the people in my immediate environment, but by the conditioning that I have been exposed to in wider society. Society has given me structures based on false binaries, which I have had to deconstruct.

What has become clear to me is that I can become whoever I want to be. The Self is not a fixed point, it is a fluid and moving substance, more akin to a liquid than a solid. The Self that I am now, is not who I was 10 years ago, and is not who I will be 10 years from now. All things change, including me.

In that sense, each human life represents infinite possibility. Each person that exists has unlimited potential. By inflicting normative violence and attempting to mould another to who we believe they should be is to perpetuate trauma. We have to recognise that each time we hold something to be “normal”, we are likely projecting a piece of our own trauma onto another.

Conformity and assimilation has been weilded under names such as “unity” by those in power; but the true unity is in the radical queerness of subverting the social construction of reality. All things in human knowledge are socially constructed to some degree, we have a responsibility to constantly question what we hold to be true. There are infinite variations on the truth because the normative version of truth is in fact a mistruth.

We have been told that who we are, how we think, and how we express ourselves, needs to be in line with a collective truth. This is untrue, we are physical manifestations of infinite possibility. The oppressive structures of colonialism and normative culture rely on us forgetting that. Of course, because how do you control a population that knows it’s own endless possibility?

So, how do I understand my Self?

I am whatever I want to be, I am an ever changing and flowing river of possibility. Like any flowing substance, I calve a path through the landscape. That is why I have to be responsible with the course I take through life. It is not my right to cut through others and their landscape. I must calve through the oppressive structures of my own landscape, while elevating the voices of those for whom the landscape and structures are different.

We are multitude of drops forming an ocean, and we owe it to each other to create the tidal wave that washes the old world away.

David Gray-Hammond 0 Comments
Dec 20 2022
Rat Park: Addiction misunderstood

Johann Hari did a lot for the popularisation of the rat park experiment. This person’s now infamous Ted Talk flung open the conversation that perhaps, just maybe, addiction was not biological in origin. While this attempt to depathologise human experience was admirable, both sides of this argument miss a vital cornerstone that bridges so many gaps in our understanding of addiction.

Rat park suggested that the reason the rats preferred drug-laden water was because of the lack of a meaningful social environment. While I will argue that this certainly plays a role on the perpetuation of addictive behaviours, there is more to be considered.

There have been various retorts, but in my opinion, we need to discuss one thing in particular. We need to talk about trauma.

It doesn’t matter what kind of privilege you have in this world, trauma can set off a domino effect, leading you down a path towards addiction. I am yet to meet any addict who was not trying to hide from pain. Some might argue that not all addicts are traumatised, but I would respond by saying that we need to ditch the normative ideas of what trauma is.

Anything can be traumatic, trauma is relative to the Self, not the external observer.

So, yes, a lack of a meaningful social environment can play a big role in addiction, but I do not believe that is what pulls people into the grasp of active drug addiction. It is what keeps them feeling as though they have no way out. That in itself is a traumatic experience which leads to increased drug use.

This is why we need to constantly be aware of the structures and people that comprise our environments. These components are what scaffold us into active addiction. We respond to our environment, yes, but the factor from that environment that plays the largest role is trauma, not sociality.

David Gray-Hammond 1 Comments
Dec 17 2022
Queerness and me

Queerness. It’s a word that I hid from for over 30 years, and yet, as I type it, I find myself feeling a deep comfort. I have long known that the space between myself and “typical” society is far greater than the purported six degrees of separation. I have at times considered that gulf to be one of existential orders of magnitude. The concept of “alone in a crowded room” is not alien to me. Nothing much is alien to me, except perhaps (at times) myself.

Being Autistic is a core part of my sense of Self. I understand myself through the lense of Autisticness, I embody my neurology unapologetically. Of course, there is far more to my experience than being Autistic. I am also Schizophrenic. Some might pity me, offering me sympathy for my mental illness. Illness is a word that does not sit right with me.

Schizophrenic, yes. Unwell? If I was unwell, should it not be quantifiable? A value that can be measured by a body that lacks the homeostasis that allows it to function properly.

No, I am neurodivergent. That doesn’t mean I don’t suffer, but I believe we must externalise suffering into the environment. Suffering does not arise in the Self, it is a function of inhabiting a space that was not meant for you.

So where does queerness fit into this?

I have come to understand that there are boundaries between the typical and atypical bodiment of the self. These boundaries are man made structures. Social conventions waiting to be transcended. Much like the way I transcend the convention of neurotypicality, delving into divergent neurology, I find myself openly subverting all expectations placed upon myself.

Queerness, to me, is not about who I love. Who I feel attraction to is such a small part of my queerness. In my universe, queerness is the subversion of a reality that has been imposed upon me. If experiencing psychosis has taught me anything, it’s that reality is not a fixed point. While being Autistic has taught me that society’s truths about what is and isn’t “normal” are closer to the machinations of a propaganda machine than anything objectively true.

No.

I am Queer because I do not belong in normative society. My neurology has made it impossible to assimilate. My queerness manifests from the urgency of an existence that requires me to carve out and defend a space to exist in. The boundary I push is the need be contained. I permit myself to take up space. I permit myself to experience my reality.

In many ways, My queerness or perhaps, my neuroqueerness, has allowed me to bookmark a place in my own story, one in which I can let go of the self-hatred for my bodymind’s tenuous relationship with reality.

It is okay to feel what I feel. It is okay to think what I think. I am no more defined by the intrusive nature of my traumatised thoughts, than I am by the colour of my hair. They are a small part of a wider human structure. It’s okay for me to admit that my sense of Self is constructed from interactions with others. We all build ourselves from the words uttered about us and to us.

Queerness doesn’t feel strange to me. It’s a liberation from the chains of normative violence. It’s freedom to think and feel without the moral judgements imposed by society through me. It is freedom from policing my own existence. It is existential liberation.

David Gray-Hammond 0 Comments
Dec 13 2022
Neuroqueer: Dismantling our internalised ableism

This article was co-authored by David Gray-Hammond and Katie Munday

Trigger Warning: This article contains references to systemic and structural oppression, multiple marginalisation, and negative wellbeing and identity.

Ableism is prevalent in the wider world, but something that we often don’t consider is the ableist views we hold about ourselves. It is inevitable that after spending our lives surrounded by normative culture, we become conditioned to view ourselves as broken, deficient, or less than. Despite being able to share compassion with others, we still harbour overtly bigoted views towards ourselves.

We internalise the harmful things said to us by our peers and professionals – sometimes even partners and friends. We take them all in and think less of ourselves and we begin to believe that there is something wrong with us.

It is clear that our interactions with other people play a significant role in the development of our sense of Self. Our identity is constructed by interactions with people in our environment, as noted in the golden equation from Luke Beardon:

Autism + Environment = Outcome

When Autistic people are in an environment that constantly belittles and mistreats us for our Autistic embodiment, the materials that we can access to construct ourselves are often self-deprecating.

How does one dismantle a lifetime of criticism and negative views arising from those experiences? First we have to understand the impact that said criticism has had on our psychological wellbeing. We have to recognise the neutrality of human thought, we have to learn that not all thoughts we have are reflective of who we are. It is possible to have negative thoughts without judging them as an indictment on our character. Once we begin to do this we are able to replace the criticisms with authenticity; a refusal to be ashamed of our embodiment. Perhaps, then, this is where neuroqueering comes into play.

It’s important to note the privilege at play when people are safe to queer their neurology. Authentic embodiment of Autistic experience can cost people their lives and their freedom in the wrong environment. Whether we care to admit it or not, not all Autistics are born equal in this society. Many Autistic people are multiply marginalised, and experience more than “just” disability discrimination.

One might ask whether or not neuroqueering is a physical act, or something that can be achieved in the mind. Many of us are at peace with ourselves whilst not openly confessing our Autistic experience. This reflects more on the environments that we inhabit than how we feel about ourselves. We can be proudly Autistic whilst understanding that not all environments are safe to authentically embody those experiences.

We also have to consider the role that the pathology paradigm plays in the existence of neuroqueering. The pathologisation and medicalisation of Autistic experience is the driving force behind most (if not all) of the ableism that we experience day-to-day. The idea that people who do not fit cultural standards of “normal” are broken, has not only created the mistreatment we experience; it also necessitated the existence of a counter-culture- neuroqueering.

How does neuroqueering change our perception of ourselves?

Neuroqueering can involve leaning into our weirdness, regardless of other’s opinions. It can also be radical self-acceptance and showing love to the parts of our Self that others have mistreated and abused. Not only does this allow us to reclaim the narrative surrounding our existence, it also gives us permission to take up the space that we have been conditioned to believe we are not entitled to.

Neuroqueer theory teaches us that assimilation denies us access to ourselves, and thus, denies access to the communities (or environments) that will help us meet our need for connection. Only by being our authentic selves can we find similar others and share in reciprocal validation. Neuroqueering dismantles internalised ableism, and the oppressive structures that have been built in our minds by others. It is a practice which champions diversity whilst appreciating that many of us still need support.

Neuroqueering politicises the nature of disability, centering us as the individuals in control of our own lives. Control that many of us are denied for being authentically Autistic. It allows us to appreciate the aforementioned neutrality of our existence through the lens of pride, and the refusal to be ashamed. It recognises that reduced wellbeing is the result of systemic oppression, and a chronic lack of access.

David Gray-Hammond 1 Comments
Sep 27 2022
Neuroqueer: Authentic embodiment of mental health

This article was Co-Authored by David Gray-Hammond and Katie Munday

Trigger Warning: Discussion of mental health

It is a surprisingly contentious discussion to have, but the neurodiversity paradigm does not just apply to autistic people and ADHD’ers. Neurodivergent is a broad and inclusive term that applies to any bodymind that diverges from the neuronormative standards of a person’s given culture. This includes, but is not limited to;

Cerebral Palsy

Epilepsy

Down Syndrome

Traumatic Brain Injury

Learning Disability

Foetal Alcohol Syndrome

The list could go on for some time.

Something else that needs to be included on this list is the plethora of psychiatric diagnoses that exist, currently standing at over 300 in the DSM 5. It becomes apparent that there are far more than a handful of ways to be neurodivergent. Let’s not forget about the people who are multiply neurodivergent, existing in the overlap between multiple shared experiences.

This is what neurodivergence is, it is shared experience amounting to identity and culture.

Some of this shared experience is wonderful, there is a beauty to be found in neurodivergent communities. However, some of the experience is truly awful; the truth is that we (the authors of this article) would have to think really hard if we were offered a magic pill that would take away our negative mental health experiences. Things such as;

Intrusive Thoughts

Rumination

Paranoia and Anxiety

Incapacitating Depression

There is a balance to be found between “how much of this is me, and how much of this is something that is happening to me?”. There is a lot more to be said for the effect that our environment has on us.

So, how does one authentically embody the entirety of their neuropsychological experience?

We can embody our full-selves by accepting that sometimes, we need to step away, and allow space to exist with whatever we are feeling at the time. Feelings come and go, it is necessary to observe and acknowledge those feelings without judgement of yourself.

One of the main issues with this is that when you have mental health concerns, we have a tendency to judge that part of our lives as a wholly negative experience. Understandably, it can be very difficult to identify positives when the world focuses on perceived deficit and disorder.

Some of the positives we have found are;

Intense creativity

Self-awareness and introspection

Increased empathy

Intense positive experiences to offset the negatives

Greater attitudes of acceptance

In order to authentically embody our entire neurocognition, we first have to learn to co-exist with all of our experiences. This requires a level of acceptance that not everything will be wholly positive or negative. Self-acceptance is a radical notion, not necessarily in the traditional sense, more so in the way it changes our outlook on life. The boundary between neurology and the mind is so obscure that a change in one can alter the other.

Embracing our negative experiences is only a part of this. We are well aware of how harmful toxic positivity can be. Not everything is okay, and nor should it be, especially when experiencing trauma. We have to learn to co-exist with ourselves, that doesn’t mean we have to find enjoyment in every aspect of our inner and outer world. We need to show up for ourselves by giving our inner-self the same grace that we afford others.

Things aren’t always okay, but with a little self-compassion they can be better. It is an aggressively neutral thing, being neurodivergent.

David Gray-Hammond 1 Comments
Sep 4 2022
Autism, diagnosis, identity, and culture

For a long time now, we have heard the phrase “If you have met one Autistic person, you have met one Autistic person”. This saying is an oversimplification of the fact that Autistic people have a wide variety of experiences, privileges, and neurocognitive styles. The question I want you to ask yourself is this:

Why is every Autistic person different?

Let’s consider the traditional route of Autistic discovery. Many of us found out we are Autistic when we were referred for and then recieved diagnosis. This diagnosis is based on the criteria laid out in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (or, the DSM) now in it’s fifth edition and the recent recipient of a text revision.

Davies (2022) discusses in their book Sedated: How modern capitalism created our mental health crisis, how the DSM is constructed. Davies discusses that the roughly 370 “disorders” detailed in the manual are voted into the manual by committee consensus rather than by any neurobiological research.

What does this mean for the diagnosis of Autistic people?

It means that Autistic experience is reduced to a list of traits, decided on by professionals who really only see Autistic people when they are in distress. After all, why go to a psychiatrist when everything in life is perfect? It also means that the experiences that constitute a DSM diagnosis of autism are voted into existence by groups whose entire careers are built upon neuronormative ideals.

So, of course we are vastly different from each other.

Herein lies the real existential conundrum though. Autism doesn’t actually exist.

As I write this, I can feel you getting ready to hit that “unfollow” button, but stick with me for a second.

Dr. Chloe Farahar of Aucademy once said that autism doesn’t exist, it’s an abstract concept, the only thing that actually exists is Autistic people.

If autism isn’t a disorder, condition, or even a tangible and existing entity that can be observed and measured, then what does being Autistic mean?

Autistic people are a minority group. We are a group of humans with shared experiences and communication styles. Autistic spaces are shared culture, and “Autistic” is an identity. Our vastly different experiences and privileges make us individuals, but our shared culture and neurocognitive style make us Autistic.

Diagnosis in and of itself is a privilege, a privilege that is required to access support, and in turn, upholds the pathology paradigm that Autistic people are drowning in.

There is a false economy surrounding the word “autism”. The insistence of it’s existence is the thing that is used to force quack cures upon Autistic people. Millions are poured into the prevention of Autistic people and the abject attempts to exorcise the abstract entity of “autism” from Autistic people.

The truth is that you will never separate the autism from the Autistic person. You can not remove what doesn’t exist. The only thing that “cures” and “therapies” will do is traumatise us. Because without our Autistic identity, we would not be us.

To destroy the autism, you will destroy the person.

This is why language matters, and it is why we need to move firmly into the neurodiversity paradigm. It’s time to stop pathologising human experiences.

David Gray-Hammond 6 Comments
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