No, Everyone Is *Not* A Little Bit Autistic

You’ve probably heard it. You might have said it. I think there are a few reasons people use it when someone shares they are (or think they might be) Autistic. Here's my read on the dynamics at play.

You're uncomfortable. And you know what? Good. Because that's where the magic happens! That's where you learn something. You change a behaviour. You confront your own internalised ableism. You grow.

You try to alleviate the discomfort and say this as a way of expressing "you're not alone" (empathetic, attempt to relate) or "don't feel bad you're Autistic" (yeesh, thanks, I don't). Or, you're trying to say "everyone's brains work differently", to which I say, well done! You've just defined neurodiversity.

There's one group of people who have moved into the spectrum and made themselves at home more than just a bit. This article speaks directly to them. The people who use "we're all a bit on the spectrum" as justification to describe their personality quirks as autism because they think it's cool, or worse, they've turned it into a grift as a content creator on the internet, profiting off disabled experiences they haven't lived.

Think about it like cosplaying a disability, like blackface, or cultural appropriation. I suspect the feeling is similar for people who see pieces of their culture coopted and diluted for profit, none of which they'll ever see. Autism is a neurodevelopmental disability. We don't get to take it off at the end of the day. Your penchant for storing your mugs by size and colour, or liking your favourite TV show a little too much, does not Autism make.

I'm not talking about people who have subclinical autistic traits but do not meet the threshold for diagnosis. I'm not coming for anyone doing the work to understand themselves, irrespective of where they are on that journey. Nor am I invalidating self-diagnosis – access to healthcare, let alone neuro-affirming care, is still costly and time-consuming, especially if you're a woman, person of colour, or really anyone other than a white boy who's super into trains. I'm addressing the people who are knowingly playing dress up and, in some cases, promoting harmful views about autism.

First, the spectrum doesn't go from neurotypical to neurodivergent, crossing into autism at some point along the way. The spectrum is autistic to autistic. It's also not a line¹ (but then we'll get into functioning labels and be here all day), so we'll cover that some other time.

In the words of Scotland's best comedian (and yes, she might be the only one I know, but I stand by the call) and fellow neurodivergent queer Fern Brady, her response to this comment is, "Yeah," eyeroll, "are we? We're not. Someone saying that to me actually delayed my diagnosis. For Autistic people, the way we hear it is, it's minimising this whole secret world of struggling with sensory issues and trying to cover it up, and never really knowing what people mean when they say stuff, and being in a constant state of cognitive dissonance because neurotypical people tend to not always mean what they say or say what they mean.”

My first thought when I encounter this sentiment is, "Talk to me when you've had an autistic meltdown and then tell me how fun and cool it is to have autism". You can't just take the superior problem-solving or pattern recognition skills, or the attention to detail that spots things other people miss, and leave the losing complete control of your nervous system because your brain absorbed too much sensory input and glitched out.

I think being disabled is cool, but it's usually only other disabled people who think so too, and it's not generally a club people are clamouring to join. Non-disabled people are usually trying their best not to see us at all.

And yes, I realise that I have entered a mirror universe where I'm actually making the argument that people should stop trying to make disability cool because honestly, it would probably do wonders for the stagnant disability rights movement. But not if it's led by non-disabled people with no understanding of what it's like to move through the world as a disabled person. It's a shameful perpetuation of something the disability community has faced immemorially – change that's done to us, not with us, or by us.

This is not a call to start fakeclaiming every Autistic creator on the internet. I follow a number of them who are doing genuinely good work to both collectively care for the Autistic community and educate allistic² (non-autistic) people on how to support us better.

One of the reasons people don't realise they're Autistic is that we assume the way our brain works the same way everyone else's does. I'm still discovering things about my autism, and content creators have sparked some of those realisations. When you hear someone describe an experience that mirrors yours, it can reframe whole parts of your life. There's something heartening about communities supporting each other in this way. In a world that feels increasingly disconnected, those moments of understanding, even if it is with strangers on the internet, are important.

When a performative caricature on social media shapes people's views of autism, it makes it harder for the rest of us to ask for support and have our needs taken seriously.

So no, we're not all on the spectrum. When someone shares information about their disability with you, try this instead:

How someone experiences their disability is individual, and so is the support they might need. I call it being consciously curious. There's curiosity for curiosity's sake; people don't owe you their life story or their medical record. Then there's curiosity with the intent to understand and provide support.

Many late-diagnosed Autistic people have felt deeply, fundamentally different their entire lives and not known why. Not in the way someone might feel like they don't fit into a particular social group. In a way that feels like they were built differently from everybody around them. Telling them that what they're feeling is something everyone experiences causes harm. It may delay or deny them the support and community they need. And speaking from experience, when you finally have a reason for why you've always felt out of step, I would never want to take that away from someone.