Autism Myth of the Week – Empathy
April 10th, 2007We don’t have empathy. We can’t put ourselves in someone else’s shoes and understand what it is like from their point of view. We can’t see through someone else’s eyes.
Well, that’s what the experts say about us anyhow.
As I re-read the responses to What do you love about your autie, I’m struck by one thing – how often the autistic’s concern for others is cited as a positive quality (the comments to that entry are some of the coolest things I’ve read lately).
People talk about an autistic child teaching a younger sibling – which requires empathy, because if you can’t figure out that someone else doesn’t know something you know, you probably wouldn’t even try to teach something.
Others talk about how they know if family members are unhappy, and then they try to do something about it. Hmmm…that sounds empathetic to me.
A bunch of people wrote about how the autistic person in their life notices sadness in others.
Of course this isn’t all – read through the responses yourself and count the number of times where the autistic person being described would have to have empathy or would have to put themselves in someone else’s shoes. It is amazing that so many responses cited something that the experts say is missing in autistic people.
I know I’m not always the most sensitive person. But that hardly means that I don’t have empathy or that I can’t imagine myself in someone else’s place. In fact, much of my day, interacting with neurotypicals, I find I must imagine things through someone else’s eyes – a form of empathy. To be honest, I think neurotypicals do less of this than autistic people do, as most of the people around them most of the time think like they do. Neurotypicals don’t usually need to run with their translation system on full power.
My parents tell me how I would come home from school and talk to my brother about what I learned in school. I imagine it was fun to watch – my younger brother looked up to me greatly then (I didn’t realize how much until fairly recently) and I loved him. So my brother was very interested in what I was talking to him about, and I was very interested in him. Hardly the type of relationship that would happen without empathy.
Perhaps the tests and experiments measuring empathy don’t actually measure empathy? It is hard for us to understand many of the things neurotypicals do (just as it is hard for them to understand us). We also have different responses when confronted with, for instance, someone who is sad. For me, it is overwhelming, threatening to wash my being away, when someone I care about is upset. The only thing I can do is to freeze and look into myself. This isn’t because I don’t realize someone is suffering, it is instead because they are suffering. I feel the pain very deeply. A differing response to that pain doesn’t mean that pain isn’t felt! (One thing I’m glad I’m learning is that I can often do something after the fact to show that I care and that I realized the person was hurting – even if I can’t do it in “real time”, I can figure out a way of letting them know without having to be washed away – for instance, I might write them a letter later, letting them know that I want to be there for them)
I’m also not sure that neurotypicals always demonstrate great empathy. How much empathy does abuse demonstrate? What does it say about viewing other people as individuals? What does it say about neurotypical empathy when a neurotypical kid stands and watches an autistic kid being mercilessly teased by a bully? Clearly concern for the autistic kid isn’t that high on the list. Yet, the bully and the bystander have empathy – they aren’t autistic, after all.
I think this is a good point. We find in our autie son that empathy is not the problem, rather expression in a form that is neurotypical. He is profoundly empathetic to others and especially to our lack of understanding at times. He patiently continues to try to get through to us when we are simply to dense to understand. It is important that we NTs don’t misunderstand or misinterpret difficulty expressing feelings typically and call it something it is not. Also, we notice that our son feels and understands everything completely. When we treat him as though he were not there – something that is easy for people to do (especially those outside of our home) he is deeply hurt and frustrated. It is important for parents to realize that everything going on in our heads is going on in our children’s heads and maybe to a greater extent. They just can’t always get it out. Be patient and always presume intelligence!
There is nothing in this post that demonstrates any empathy on your part. Just another attack on those you call “neurotypicals”. If you want to show that you personally have empathy try changing the name of your blogsite – “NT’s are weird” .
Harold, for those who don’t know, has a bit of a history when it comes to autism – I encourage readers to look him up online before engaging him, and I remind everyone that I will not tolerate (or approve) posts that contain personal attacks, deserved or not.
That said, about the name of the site – it is meant as a form of humor. After all, NTs are weird to autistic people – just as I’m very sure we’re weird to them. I never considered being weird to be an insult. It’s a way of “turning things around” a bit and trying to be slightly provocative so that people see there are two sides to the experience of being autistic (not just the experience of being neurologically typical – NT – and interacting with autistic people), through humor.
When combined with the subtitle “The Autistic Perspective on Civil Rights” (which clearly isn’t humorous at all), saying that NTs are weird does tend to suggest that autistic civil rights activists have some hostility toward non-autistics. I was rather taken aback when I first saw your blog, although I soon realized that you intended the title as humorous.
I think your message would come across better, without the potential for misunderstanding, if you changed the title to “Everybody Is Weird.”
“Harold, for those who don’t know, has a bit of a history when it comes to autism – I encourage readers to look him up online before engaging him, and I remind everyone that I will not tolerate (or approve) posts that contain personal attacks, deserved or not.”
Your comments are unsubstantiated Joel. Don’t worry I won’t be back to challenge your prejudices.
Okay, I’ll bite. First, what did I claim about you that needs to be substantiated? Do you doubt that you have a history in autism?
The comment about attacks wasn’t directed at you, it was directed towards people replying to you – I wanted to remind others, including autistics, that personal attacks against you would not be posted. In other words, I was protecting you.
As for my prejudices, what exactly are they? That I think neurotypicals are weird? That I believe autistics have empathy? Okay, guilty as charged!
On a different subject, you might not want to assume the worst when reading what I write.
Recently I saw the documentary “the gender experiment”. There were brain scans done of people who showed a lot of empathy en also from people who show little empathy. With people who were was knew having a lot of empathy, in the middle of the brain it lighted up in the scan, were people with little empathy there wasn’t any sign of lighting up in the scans.
But what happened ? A man who had to do tests that involved showing empathy, clearly showed empathy although his scans were negative. He learned himself to become empathic, higly likely using another part of his brain.
I know of myself I was had little empathy when I was a young child (stories told by my parents from my earliest years confirm that) but later I developed empathy. Perhaps I have one problem, despite I developed a normal empathy (feeling it) I’m not yet able to show it a lot of the time. I’m not sure but I think that could be a problem for a lot of autistics, feeling empathic but not able to show it a lot of the time.
For parents of newly diagnosed autistic children, the statement that autistics have no empathy is possibly the most devastating among all things they read about autism. (The folklore of all nations has stories about people born unable to love, or renouncing their ability to love – what can be more scary?) I wish experts, before stating such serious things, first to check whether they are true.
Most of this comment is fairly obvious I think, but it is worth spelling out, no?
I find it is much easier to empathize with people who are similar to myself. People from the same culture and subculture, people in the same age group, people with similar likes, dislikes, and values, who have much of the same knowledge I have, similar experiences, similar abilities, and similar body language and habits. I think people who are similar to me also empathize with me more easily and respond to me in ways that are more suited to me, ways that I prefer and that are effective for me. They can detect my emotions and know what reaction to my emotions I would most welcome.
I have a really hard time figuring out what people in my parents’ age group are feeling. And even when I do figure it out, I am not sure what I should do, what response they would like. Even when I know what response they would like, I often don’t want to give that response, because it conflicts with my way of doing things. With my close friends (who are very much like me), however, being empathic and expressing it in a mutually preferred way is often easy.
This is really helpful for me to read. I love having a grown-up autistic view of autism. My three-year-old son cries very hard when his older sister and newborn baby sister cry. He is clearly very upset by them being sad – I don’t think you can be *that* echolalic with emotional responses! Kind of blows holes in that whole mirror neuron theory, doesn’t it?
I just stumbled onto your blog. It’s great. As a parent of autistics I totally agree with your comment about empathy. My kids melt at the sight of a crying baby and are often reduced to tears themselves. Frankly, I find my child’s empathy, time and time again, much more genuine than that shown by NTs.
As a parent of autistics I find it refreshing to read the views of autistic adults. It makes me less susceptible to the industry created by those that have pandered to parents who have not taken a step back to truly assess the implications of having an autistic child — FOR THE CHILD. One of the things that disgusted me after my kids were diagnosed was the volume of books by parents who waxed ad nauseum about how their child’s diagnosis was the end of the world for THEM, how they couldn’t believe the powers above did such a thing to THEM, and how THEY were such troopers for pulling through. Such rubbish. Every time I saw one of those books I thought “What’s junior gonna think of that book when he grows up?” My kids are pretty happy, I suspect, because I don’t prance around my house treating them like they’re a big clump of burden. Mind you, many parents of NT kids treat their kids like they’re a big burden, but aren’t lucky enough to have a diagnosis of autism to allow them to write about how burdensome child-rearing is.
When I tell people that I’m really fine with having autistic kids (yep, I have more than one!!), that I actually ENJOY my kids they look at me as if I’m deluded. It really pisses me off. Thanks for keeping it real. I wish more parents of autistics would take the time to read your blog and that of others who are autistic without getting defensive.
I think most NTs are less empathic and less aware and consider themselves more socially adept than they are. For “social skills” in many, these are more Anti-Social skills. A look of disgust in them is the best medicine. I know I should’nt be so negative but, hey-ho, there you go!
[...] And, ok, I’ll admit it: One can feel a certain amount of satisfaction in debunking one of those, such as the claim that autistic persons lack empathy. [...]
I wonder how you can title a blog “NT’s are Weird” and then dare complain about “abuse.” The term “NT” is derogatory, and if that’s your attitude, no doubt others pick it up and react. As someone who doesn’t have autism, I dislike being labelled “NT” as if the great divide were autism/”NT” or autism/normal. That paradigm puts “autism” as the defining characteristic, when in fact it’s only one characteristic among many that gives people individuality. It’s possible, I suggest, that someone with autism may have more in common with an “NT” than with another person with autism, just as I, an English Canadian, may have more in common with people from other ethnic backgrounds than my own. That said, autism is considered a handicap because children with autism need and deserve extra help in learning the skills necessary for successful adult lives, and, even as adults, people with autism may need extra help. It’s terrible when anyone abuses another person, and indeed, there are abusive people found in any group. I suggest, however, that you ask yourself whether or not your autism has prevented you from seeing what you’ve done to provoke a negative reaction from others (for example, the disrespect you show to “NT’s” in the title of your blog). Further, I suggest that if you need and expect extra help from so-called “NT’s” then respect is necessary, for nobody likes to help someone who despises him/her. I write as someone who’s spent two decades caring for people with autism. The attitude shown in your blog and in some of the posts here would provoke massive burn-out in every caregiver or parent I’ve ever met. Something to think about?
Anonymous, perhaps you should read the link under the title that is an explanation of the title.
As for provoking burn out in caregivers, perhaps that’s an issue we need to work on – why is the idea of autistic rights a “burn out” issue? Or perhaps you can comment on the entries you find so offensive.
What do I find so offensive? I think I expressed that already…the derogatory term “NT” and the attitudes that go with devaluing any human being. And yes, I’ve read your article. I just don’t agree with everything you write, that’s all.
I’m all for “autistic rights” and every other kind of human right….up to the point where other people are affected in a negative way. Because other people have rights too. For example, and I’ll make this personal, my stepson with autism wants the right to make adult decisions on his own. Yeah! I support that! Unless he makes decisions that impact on other people in ways they don’t like. And he does, often, because he has real trouble understanding, let alone caring, about how “NT’s” feel and what they need. There’s a basic decency that needs to be at work here. If someone identifies himself as having a handicap, and needs extra help, he should a) not devalue those who help him and b) not make “adult choices” that place too great a burden on others. In other words, it’s fine to expect extra help learning how to use the kitchen, but I expect that my extra help is not taken for granted, that is, my time is treated as valuable and not wasted with endless repetitions because someone chooses to not pay attention. I have a very finite tolerance for anyone setting my kitchen on fire, and even less of a tolerance for being lectured as to why I shouldn’t be upset about having my house almost burned down with my dogs inside. I find that stressful, and maybe I’m just a lowly NT to find that stressful, but there it is. If someone can’t or won’t pay attention enough to not set a house on fire, then he in my books he doesn’t have the right to use the kitchen, because others have rights too. Okay, this may sound like an extreme example, but in fact I’ve had my health/safety/livelihood often threatened by the spaced-out behavior of a person with autism. Did I say stressful? It’s like that old cliché about the tree falling in the forest with nobody around to hear the sound. The person with autism may not recognize the constant stress he causes in the lives of those who must be responsible for him, but he causes that stress anyway, and they feel that stress anyway. I should add that I took over years ago when the real mother couldn’t cope. I don’t give up because I believe in the human rights of my stepson, but I also think he won’t succeed in life until he begins to have a much greater appreciation of the rights and needs of others–and not just his special status. I suspect you don’t cause that kind of stress, but I’m certain this kind of blog doesn’t help people like my stepson. After having read a number of such blogs, he became quite belligerent about how I should be doing even more for him–and expecting even less–because he’s handicapped. And I say, lose the contempt for me, and gain some appreciation.