Of Persons and (apparent) Paradox

Psychology Today recently published an article entitled, The Girl With a Boy’s Brain, about 24-year-old neuroscience graduate student Kiriana Cowansage.  No, it’s not an article about a transgendered person, but rather a female who is described as having Asperger’s Syndrome.  I was intrigued to read such an article because while AS females most certainly exist, most writings that mention autism in any form are primarily focused on boys and men.* And this article almost isn’t an exception—look back at the title. 

Yes, the subject of the article is female, but why describe her as having a “boy’s” brain?  Brain variation in general is an equal-opportunity phenomenon, and while certain kinds of variation are certainly more common in a particular gender, the theory that autism represents a kind of “extreme maleness” is controversial and unproven.  And despite the observation that autistic females may seem more like nonautistic males than nonautistic females do, on average, consider the possibility that perhaps attempting to “gender” the autistic brain and demeanor according to nonautistic normative observations is simply incorrect. 

In fact, it could very well be that many comparisons which attempt to define aspects of autistic neurology as anomalous or pathological are nothing less than misguided.  University of Montreal psychiatrist and autism researcher Dr. Laurent Mottron notes, “You don’t say a dog is ill or dumb because it cannot climb a tree. You’d only say that if your vocabulary of description is that of a cat.”

This is not to say that autistics are not human—however, it is to say that there is, perhaps, a critical need for those in the practice of trying to delineate personhood to realize what it means to recognize all kinds of potential minds.  As Dr. Mottron advises, “People are afraid of this because they don’t want to seem to be rejecting autistics as not human, but we have to overcome this fear and say that humanity is composed of heterogeneous people.” (emphasis mine)

This is important, and this is where this discussion crosses paths with futurist speculation (or, you might say, transhumanism)—since transhumanists are frequently concerned with making sure that recognition of rights and sentience is not limited to the existing human population.  However, while this is a noble effort and will probably improve the quality of life for such creatures as apes, dolphins, elephants and (eventually) sentient robots, it is crucial to avoid insisting that recognized minds “look” obviously and typically human (per recognized-at-the-time cultural norms).

If anyone needs proof as to why this is necessary, they need only look at history and observe that all too recently, even “mild” gender-variant behavior (let alone homosexuality) was considered to be evidence of a disorder—this article excerpt from 1973 describes boys with gender-variant behavior as “deviant” and notes that early effeminate behavior should be examined, considering that “gender identity or behavior problems are implicated for a significant proportion of adult transsexuals, transvestites, and homosexuals”.

Notice how it isn’t even stated that there’s anything wrong with being transsexual, transvestite, or homosexual—these things are simply and implicitly accepted as things that are obviously pathological.  Many articles written today about autism display a similar implicit assumption, and while some people certainly do have issues that should be addressed, it certainly must be noted that the implicit assumption itself is problematic. 

In dealing with people as in dealing with politics, addressing problems on an issue-by-issue basis (such as providing a person with speech therapy, or with treatment for anxiety) makes a lot more sense than defining a platform position and adhering to it (as in, defining “autism” as a horrible monolithic entity and claiming it needs to be “wiped out") even when reality seems to demand otherwise.

So, as far as articles concerning autism go, “The Girl With A Boy’s Brain” certainly could have been worse.  It didn’t imply that “obviously”, nobody could ever be happy as an autistic person, and it did not mention cure, or end on the familiar, nauseating note along the lines of, “As we learn more and more about the brain, we draw ever closer to, hopefully, finding a cure for this devastating condition”.  Nevertheless, I did wince here and there as the article described people with AS as “sufferers” and referred to the subject of the article as “inhabiting the magical world of a child” (as if “logic puzzles and whimsical drawings” are somehow the exclusive province of children!). 

And the article’s ending, while not the stereotypical trumpeting of hope for a cure, was vaguely misleading in the manner that it conveyed Ms. Cowansage’s longing to interact in a “connected” manner such as that of the rats she observes in her lab work.  Loneliness or desire for companionship is by no means an exclusively autistic phenomenon—there’s plenty of mainstream advice out there, frequently aimed at young students, that indicates that feeling disconnected is very common in humans.

Again, on the positive side, the article did bring to light some of the common but less frequently mentioned realities that many of us on the spectrum experience—such as detail-oriented perception and cognition, intense and focused interests, and the fact that we can indeed display and feel a range of emotions despite stereotypes to the contrary.

I am also encouraged that the article quoted Ms. Cowansage (at the age of 9) as asking her mother, “Does everyone see, hear, smell, taste, and feel exactly the same thing when they perceive the same object?” This question is one that rings very true for me, considering that I remember wondering whether “red” looked like “red” (the way I saw it) to everyone at around the same age.  Theory of Mind, anyone?

But then, the article also describes Ms. Cowansage’s ability set as “paradoxical”.  I am somewhat ambivalent and perhaps slightly leery about the use of the word “paradoxical” here, since it could just as easily be applied to a nonautistic person’s ability set.  Why is is paradoxical for someone to be facile in science and drawing but poor at keeping up with square dancing and listening comprehension, when it isn’t considered paradoxical for someone to be good at holding a two-way conversation but poor at logic puzzles or communicating effectively over e-mail?  Paradox is, apparently, in the eye of the beholder, and the beholder is inarguably (though generally not knowingly) biased.

The media still has a very long way to go, apparently, before autistic people are written about in a maximally balanced manner.  However, it is at least encouraging that some people are recognizing that no, not all of us on the spectrum are male, and that yes, we understand that other people have minds, and that no, we are not schizoid or sociopathic, and that yes, we are capable of learning, having feelings, and leading happy and productive lives. 

But it would be even more encouraging if brains like mine (and Ms. Cowansage’s) could be recognized as our own and not the result of some sort of neurological gender-bend—particularly when gender itself is a concept that is becoming ever more fluid.  As expedient as it might be to define the “different” according to how they deviate from an observed norm, it must be recognized that taking this approach could result in the reality of a “different” person being minimized and assumed less complex than it actually is.