Thinking better about autism

Grant Macaskill is well aware that whatever you say about autism, the tone of voice in which you say it matters more. He articulates many judicious, careful, and helpful things in this lucid, learned, and wide-ranging volume. What matters more is the gentle, kind, but assertive voice in which he offers them.

The first challenge is to recognize the bewildering breadth of the condition and yet to identify some specific things to talk about. Macaskill charts a spectrum from those who need lifelong care to those who, in previous generations, would never have been diagnosed with autism in the first place. He understands the tyranny of the normal but extends that problematic sense of normalcy to neurodiversity itself. He speaks of challenges for people with autism: nonverbal communication and cues, subtle uses of language such as irony, the appetite for control (often through routine and system), and a tendency to be overwhelmed by sensory impressions, sometimes resulting in meltdowns.

Typical of Macaskill’s grace is the way he explores the question of whether autism is a disability. Neurodiversity and disability, it transpires, don’t have to be mutually exclusive categories. In some cases, difference is a better description than disability. For example, the capacity to detect, analyze, and construct systems is an asset to everyone. But simply talking up the positives can sometimes inhibit access to help and deny the experience of caregivers. It’s never simple or one-dimensional. In what could be a summary of the book, Macaskill asserts, “If we learn to think better about autism, we will learn to think better about everything else, too.”