Epidemiology of Autism: One Autist's Thoughts of Possible Reasons Behind its Surge

In many of the news reports, popular culture and talk amongst families regarding autism, I have noticed a common theme: too many times people focus on the epidemiology, what causes it, how to “cure” it and other such things.  Now, as a hyperlexic and verbal autist I may have a biased opinion, but it is my contention what the epidemiology stage is not, quite frankly, where the autism community should be focusing its efforts at the moment.  Sure, it's an interesting puzzle; I should know, I'm an analytical autist, I love puzzles.  Still, I think the focus should be on neurodiversity and integration in general; how to deal with society.  Granted, I already spoke of this in my “War on Autism?” post, so I won't wax poetic about it now.  What I will talk about is my thoughts on perhaps why people like to try to find the cause or a cure.

Personally I think there are two reasons for this, the latter caused by the former: They think autism is a net negative on the person, and the parents of children with autism want some sort of justice; by having some cause, especially an environmental cause, there is a concrete injustice done, something they can fight.

First, let me assure parents that autism is not an inherent net negative: If there are any net negative effects it's due to how society treats us, not some defect in ourselves or otherwise.  The idea that we're somehow broken does us a disservice, even if you mean the best.  We're not broken, we're just different.  Yes, we have disadvantages in many areas compared to neurotypicals, but we also have advantages over them as well.  It's a tradeoff and an integral part of who we are as people.  If we can remold society so that autists and neurotypicals work together to produce a better life for both, that should be where our efforts are focused, not trying to find out what makes us who we are.  That can be an interesting puzzle to figure out together, once we are no longer ostracized.

Second, let's assume that the many epidemiological hypotheses are false: I'm not going to say for sure that any are false, but let's perform a thought experiment here.  We're going to assume, for the sake of argument, that genetics and genetics alone is the only cause of autism.  That doesn't mean you still can't fight for justice; that doesn't mean it's your fault that your child or your grandchild has autism.  We are not geneticists playing with DNA strands knowing what we'll do; we cannot fathom what the genetic cocktail will be when sperm meets egg to make a baby.  Your fight for justice now can be to make your child's life the best it can be, rather than trying to fight some possible cause.  Autism is a tough struggle, but I view it through the lens of a civil rights struggle.  It's something that develops in early childhood, if the child is not born with it outright.  It is a facet of one's identity, like nationality, race or creed.  It is something to be proud of.

Strongholds, Throne Rooms, and the Wilderness

In my experiences as a person with autism, I have found that there are certain areas and situations that strike me as certain archetypes. No matter the particular nuances of the situation, they ultimately fall into one of these three: The Stronghold, the Throne Room, and the Wilderness.

Everyone, no matter if they are on the autism spectrum or not, has a stronghold: a place where they go to retreat, to get away from all of their troubles and undo their stress for a time. For an autist, however, this stronghold is of even more importance. The world around them has so much more stress than a neurotypical's world, and a place where they have total control of their

The Throne Room is an area where an autist feels comfortable. This area need not be a particular physical location, but it usually is. The important thing, however, is that there is an air of acceptance; that they will not be ridiculed or shunned for expressing themselves. A throne room could then be a particular group of friends, or a topic of conversation that the autist has expertise in.

Finally, there is the wilderness; an alien land, both fascinating and frightening. Neurotypicals can experience the wilderness as well, but for an autist, it is a matter of everyday life; the sensory overstimulation can be maddening at times. Keep this in mind when you talk to an autist; they may not be consciously ignoring you, but simply trying to make sense of the world around them.

Hopefully knowing more about how the environments are seem to us will help neurotypicals understand how to approach conversations, which will, in the end, help everyone coexist in relative harmony.