The journalist and author Andrew Solomon (author of the truly excellent and personally recommended Noonday Demon) has written a long piece for New York Magazine entitled The New Wave of Autism Rights Activists in which he paints us a picture of the heavily fractured tripod of autism activism.
Its far, far too long for me to summarise but I will try and give a very brief overview of how Solomon sees these three groups:
There are in reality three sides in this debate: those who believe autism is caused by environmental toxins (especially vaccines) and should be cured by addressing those pollutants; those who believe it is genetic and should be addressed through the genome; and the neurodiverse, who believe that it is genetic and should be left alone. These camps are blatantly hostile to one another. Gerald Fischbach, the scientific director of the Simons Foundation, one of the largest private funders of autism research, says, “I’ve never seen an advocacy community as intense and demanding. The mercuries get livid when people talk about genetics. The geneticists get furious when people talk about environmental toxins. And these activists get angry at both.”
That is a fairly accurate picture although not without it faults (ND’s believing autism should be ‘left alone’….not sure about that – and Solomon does qualify that statement later on)
I don’t really want to talk that much about Solomon’s piece. Its very, very good overall in my opinion. What I _do_ want to talk about is my reaction to it and how my slightly changed view of what ‘neurodiversity’ means to me is.
Ever since I had a large public disagreement with certain people last year about how I and other parents on the Autism Hub allegedly advocated (this disagreement led me to ‘outing’ myself as a manic depressive, handing over ownership and control of the Autism Hub and taking time away from blogging for a week or two), I have been thinking off and on about ‘neurodiversity’ as a practical construct.
I will come clean and say that Andrew contacted me for a statement about what I thought about neurodiversity as someone both neurologically different and also parent to someone neurologically different. That I didn’t make it into the final piece is testament to his skills as a journalist and my own growing ambivalence regarding neurodiversity. I started off by saying:
I felt that I had a good handle on the meaning of neurodiversity – to me it was simple: the diversity of neurology or, to lengthen that out to a truly epic state of pedantry, the many differing states of being that could be neurologically encompassed.
and I still do think that. I also said:
…what neurodiversity was, was a concept that could be embraced by people who valued difference and respected those who were different. It didn’t matter to me that those who embraced the concept were parents or professionals or autistic people or blind people or bipolar people or any mixture of the above. The important thing was that here was a group of people who were saying that being different wasn’t bad. That it (whatever ‘it’ happened to be for you) was a state of being worthy of respect in its own right. It is vital to me that my child grows up to think of xyrself as a person who is entitled to respect.
Beyond that, I am unsure what – if any – of the other things associated with neurodiversity apply to me. I am not ‘anti-cure’. I agree with Alex Plank who states in the article:
Alex Plank, who founded the Wrong Planet Website, which has over 19,000 members, says, “Since no cure exists, I don’t have to be opposed or for it. The thing now is to deal with the autistic people who are already on this planet.
What I want to do is raise my child to a point where xe can advocate for xyrself. If there was a cure invented tomorrow I would want xyr to able to ask the question xyrself: ‘Do I want this?’. This is because, as a parent, just as it is not my right to make xyr not autistic, it is neither my right to keep xyr autistic against xyr own wishes. I am a parent first and advocate second. Let me go even further. If a cure was discovered tomorrow I would not advocate against it. I would try and debate its use as something that should be used with extreme caution but I would not advocate against it point blank.
I come from a viewpoint that views a cure for autism as something that should not be necessary, not as something that should not exist.
What I mean by that is that I do not think it should be _necessary_ for someone who was autistic to be made not autistic in order to enjoy their life. I see plenty of autistic people clearly enjoying their lives and who they are. I want to see respect, tolerance and caring to come _first_ – not only after someone has been ‘cured’. This is (to me) at the root of the recent issue involving Alex Barton. One argument is that because Alex is autistic this is only to be expected. I disagree with that totally. I think that Alex was/is worthy of respect whatever his neurology. Its the same reason I don’t really like the heavy NT bashing that goes on at some ASD forums – two wrongs never make a right.
I also come from a belief that science is important. I therefore recognise that we cannot pick and choose what science we like and what we don’t. Science is either valid or it isn’t. So, when a scientist writes a _good_ paper that states MMR doesn’t cause autism I have to (by definition of science) agree with it. Likewise however, if a scientist writes a _good_ paper that states that Facilitated Communication is not valid, I have to accept that also. I do think that some neurodiversity activists are guilty of picking and choosing what science they like and saying its good and vilifying science that they don’t agree with. Which is fine if the criticism is valid. But not if it isn’t.
If a scientist works on a cure for autism should he be stopped? No way. To me, that’s pointless. If science is interested in a subject they’ll do it. Not always in the best interests of humanity I grant you but all the same – the debate about what to do with the results of said science are more practical than simply trying to stop it.
So, I’m not sure if I am ‘ND’ anymore. Or maybe I’ve just re-interpreted what I think being ‘ND’ means for myself. I don’t know.
Edit: Missed a bit
The closing of Andrew Solomon’s piece is a bit of a dichotomy.
Severe autism is a ghastly affliction that should be cured
I’m afraid that I entirely disagree with Andrew there. They key word is ‘should’. To me, the sentence would be more representative of my own personal definition of ‘nd’ if it read:
Is it important to cure ‘severe’ autism or look more carefully at how the rest of society operates around ‘severely’ autistic people?
.
However, it seems as though Andrew was reading my mind when he wrote:
It is unproductive to rail against the incurable; if you can learn to love it, that’s your best chance of happiness. For some people, the love is self-evident; for others, it is acquired through struggle; others cannot do more than pretend to it. Though neurodiversity activists can get in the way of science and sometimes wrap themselves up in self-important, specious arguments, they also light the way to such love—a model of social acceptance and self-acceptance that has the capacity to redeem whole lives.
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