I'm not a violent person in general. People who know me well have remarked on my placid nature. But I have a darker side: there's a reason my mother told my wife to watch out for my temper...
Showing posts with label Autism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Autism. Show all posts
Monday, 9 September 2013
Stimming Survey - Your Community Needs You!
Fellow autistic blogger autisticook needs your help -- yes, that means you -- to collect as many examples of stims as humanly possible, so please take the time to head on over there and do your bit. Many thanks!
You can find the survey here along with her request to spread this far and wide.
You can find the survey here along with her request to spread this far and wide.
Saturday, 7 September 2013
Happy Flappy Tappy Aspie
My project at work went well yesterday. Really well. So well that I got excited -- this happens when I'm pleased with what I've produced. Now, the thing about getting excited is that, as with most emotions, I feel it mostly as a set of physical effects.
Excitement starts with a tense feeling building deep inside. Not the heavy, paralyzing tension of anxiety but a light, bubbly, tension of anticipation that spreads out. Up my neck to my head, molding my features into a broad smile. Down my legs making them jiggle and my feet tap. And along my arms until it reaches my fingertips and gives me the urge to flap. By this point I guess I must be awash with endorphins and fireworks are going off in my brain!
I'm still working on quashing my learned inhibitions against the more attention-drawing stims that resulted from teasing at school. So I bounced lightly away from my desk with my hands twitching slightly as I contemplated the forthcoming pleasure of flapping them. I might even have skipped a little -- I can't remember. As I passed through the door into the stairwell I gave myself to the sensations and my hands started flapping involuntarily.
Oh, the euphoria of the release I felt! After so many years of suppression it felt incredibly good to ride the wave of emotion and allow my body to express itself naturally, even though it was in private. This was something I decided recently: I would work on overcoming my inhibitions so that I can be more myself. Because being true to myself makes me happy.
A happy, flappy Aspie -- I wouldn't want to be any other way. You see, for autistic people stimming is a way of modulating sensory input -- which includes the effects of emotion -- and helps greatly in coping with many situations, both good and bad. It helps with concentration because it frees the mind to focus on something else rather than the sensory stimulus. Suppression -- the building of barriers and inhibitions as a result of pressure through disapproval, teasing or bullying -- can be harmful. Without stimming it is that much harder to cope with emotional or stressful situations. Without stimming we are denied a means of expression as much as if our mouths were taped shut or our hands bound.
Freedom of expression is a fundamental human right. Don't deny that to autistic people just because the way we express ourselves is not your way.
I'd like to thank the online Aspie/Autistic communities for providing me with a sense of belonging, of support, so that I have begun to feel confident about expressing myself naturally and honestly. On the subject of stimming there's a short article about it from the BBC here, and a great blog post over at autisticook that has an illuminating survey of different stims.
Thursday, 5 September 2013
If It Looks Like A Duck...
Who am I?
That's a question to which I struggle to find an answer that satisfies me. Oh, there are no shortage of answers: I'm Ben, I'm a husband, I'm a 40 year old, I'm a programmer, I'm an Aspie... But these are only labels. Some can conjure stereotypes: in the case of programmer that might well be of a pale-skinned, glasses-wearing, high-IQ social misfit with poor personal hygiene, no girl/boyfriend, the muscle tone of a blancmange and a diet of pizza, soda and Twinkies. As with most stereotypes there are elements that broadly fit and others that are way off. The imprecision nags at me like a label in the back of a shirt.
Tell me about yourself.
I won't deny that I do describe myself as above -- the labels, not the stereotype! But with limited time, space, or both, I can't keep on supplying descriptive tags until I feel I've completed the picture. Where does that leave me? Well, people have to fill in the gaps from their own observations and that depends on how I appear to them.
I can tell you that I care very much for my wife but that obviously didn't show to a group of doctors recently who were urgently treating her for an allergic reaction that caused her tongue and throat to swell. I think they were expecting me to appear agitated and fuss over her but I remained calm -- fussing or panicking would not have helped either of us, so I sat there out of the way and let the doctors get on with treating her. That's what I judged to be the most helpful course of action, and because I care I wanted to act in the way that I thought would benefit her the most. They asked my wife whether I cared about her because I appeared cold and unemotional.
But you don't look <adjective>.
Some people set great store by their belief in their powers of observation: seeing is believing. And when they're told something that is at odds with what their own eyes have seen they are inclined to disbelieve it. In this case of the doctors -- maxilla-facial surgeons and registrars -- even with a passing knowledge of autistic behavior they didn't believe my wife when she told them I do care about her but I'm not expressive: I didn't look like I cared. You just can't win sometimes.
It quacks like a duck, therefore...
If I tell you that I'm 5'11" and 210 lbs, stockily built, physically strong and bearded you will have a particular image of me. You might expect certain traits that correspond to that image: stereotypical masculine traits such as:
It's a platypus?
Conan-Doyle wrote in Sherlock Holmes "when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth". And the truth here will have to wait until I have eliminated the impossible. You see, I can't accurately answer the question with which I opened this essay. I don't know how to describe who I really am: I'm as reliant on labels as everybody else. To myself I am just me -- I know what that means but the collection of thoughts, feelings, behaviors and physical matter doesn't have a name. Any words I or others use are an approximation, a simple sketch of the reality.
René Magritte in his famous painting La Trahison des Images (The Treachery of Images) captured this perfectly. As the caption on the picture states, "Ceci n'est pas une pipe" -- "This is not a pipe". The realization for me of the literal truth of that statement was profound.
And finally...
I hope I've not left you disappointed that I didn't answer my own question. Instead I wanted to explore what identity means and how my perspective cannot be translated to anybody else without losing fidelity. All anybody else will ever see is an imperfect reflection through my words and their eyes.
That's a question to which I struggle to find an answer that satisfies me. Oh, there are no shortage of answers: I'm Ben, I'm a husband, I'm a 40 year old, I'm a programmer, I'm an Aspie... But these are only labels. Some can conjure stereotypes: in the case of programmer that might well be of a pale-skinned, glasses-wearing, high-IQ social misfit with poor personal hygiene, no girl/boyfriend, the muscle tone of a blancmange and a diet of pizza, soda and Twinkies. As with most stereotypes there are elements that broadly fit and others that are way off. The imprecision nags at me like a label in the back of a shirt.
Tell me about yourself.
I won't deny that I do describe myself as above -- the labels, not the stereotype! But with limited time, space, or both, I can't keep on supplying descriptive tags until I feel I've completed the picture. Where does that leave me? Well, people have to fill in the gaps from their own observations and that depends on how I appear to them.
I can tell you that I care very much for my wife but that obviously didn't show to a group of doctors recently who were urgently treating her for an allergic reaction that caused her tongue and throat to swell. I think they were expecting me to appear agitated and fuss over her but I remained calm -- fussing or panicking would not have helped either of us, so I sat there out of the way and let the doctors get on with treating her. That's what I judged to be the most helpful course of action, and because I care I wanted to act in the way that I thought would benefit her the most. They asked my wife whether I cared about her because I appeared cold and unemotional.
But you don't look <adjective>.
Some people set great store by their belief in their powers of observation: seeing is believing. And when they're told something that is at odds with what their own eyes have seen they are inclined to disbelieve it. In this case of the doctors -- maxilla-facial surgeons and registrars -- even with a passing knowledge of autistic behavior they didn't believe my wife when she told them I do care about her but I'm not expressive: I didn't look like I cared. You just can't win sometimes.
It quacks like a duck, therefore...
If I tell you that I'm 5'11" and 210 lbs, stockily built, physically strong and bearded you will have a particular image of me. You might expect certain traits that correspond to that image: stereotypical masculine traits such as:
- self-confident
- independent
- hard
- thick-skinned
- aggressive
It's a platypus?
Conan-Doyle wrote in Sherlock Holmes "when you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth". And the truth here will have to wait until I have eliminated the impossible. You see, I can't accurately answer the question with which I opened this essay. I don't know how to describe who I really am: I'm as reliant on labels as everybody else. To myself I am just me -- I know what that means but the collection of thoughts, feelings, behaviors and physical matter doesn't have a name. Any words I or others use are an approximation, a simple sketch of the reality.
René Magritte in his famous painting La Trahison des Images (The Treachery of Images) captured this perfectly. As the caption on the picture states, "Ceci n'est pas une pipe" -- "This is not a pipe". The realization for me of the literal truth of that statement was profound.
And finally...
I hope I've not left you disappointed that I didn't answer my own question. Instead I wanted to explore what identity means and how my perspective cannot be translated to anybody else without losing fidelity. All anybody else will ever see is an imperfect reflection through my words and their eyes.
Tuesday, 3 September 2013
Getting Hired
I wrote a piece a couple years ago about my experiences with Aspergers and how it has affected my work. But what I didn't go into much detail about was the process of getting a job in the first place. This article is to address that deficit.
I'm going to start by saying that I wasn't diagnosed at the time I attended the interviews mentioned here -- I'd not even heard of Aspergers Syndrome -- but as far as I'm concerned the only effect of that was that I had no reason to ask for or expect any accommodations. I'm pretty much the same now as I was back then -- more experienced certainly but not really any more comfortable with certain situations -- except that I now have a reason that explains the way I've always been.
After dropping out of university in 1994 I finally had an idea of a direction in my life. Up to then I had always been rather passive and had gone along with my parents and teachers when they suggested what my next steps ought to be... which was how I ended up studying Natural Sciences at the University of Cambridge. Once I got over the idea that I needed a degree and realized that my special interest would suit me to a career in programming the next step seemed straightforward: get a job in that field.
Well, it wasn't straightforward at all. I bought copies of the computer press such as Computer Weekly to search the recruitment pages. I was looking for an entry level position as a C programmer -- I knew I could program but had hardly anything to put on my resumé to demonstrate experience. I was self-taught, having learned Basic first and then C, and in my degree course we had been taught the rudiments of Fortran. I had written a C program during a summer work placement to drive lab equipment and capture data, but that was only 8 weeks and not exactly commercial development.
I was persistent. I sent off application letter after letter and got back acknowledgment slips and occasionally refusal letters, month after month. I took a part-time unpaid voluntary job with a local charity doing editing and layout for publishing to keep my hand in with some kind of computer work -- it was a new startup and there was just the guy running it and one other volunteer. The guy had posted an ad in a local shop and I phoned him; he came to see me for an informal interview, which was nerve-wracking. I felt incredibly nervous despite being in the familiar environment of my own home but it seemed he was desperate for any help and was more interested in selling the job to me than treating me as a candidate. Despite my nervous stuttering and poor interpersonal skills I got the job: it wasn't something I was interested in pursuing career-wise but it did give me a taste of what an interview felt like.
I realized I had been totally unprepared this time around and would have to work on the impression I made if I was ever to get started in my chosen career. Finally after about four months of fruitless applications I was offered an interview. This time I did my homework: I asked my dad, who worked as a Chief Executive, for advice to learn as much about the structure of interviews as I could. The last time I'd been involved in any kind of competitive interview was after I applied to university and although I'd been successful that time I suspected that my academic record played a large part. Well, it turned out that it was my academic record that had given me my chance this time too -- being gifted academically did have some practical benefit.
I dressed carefully in suit and tie despite ties and buttoned collars having always made me feel physically uncomfortable. Luckily as long as the collar's not tight I can stand it for a few hours and that mode of dress is expected at interviews, at least for professional positions in the UK. It's about first impressions: the interviewer expects that the candidate will demonstrate a smartness of appearance so you have to meet those expectations the first time they lay eyes on you.
I borrowed my mum's car and drove myself to the interview. This was in the days before sat-nav or Google Maps so I'd gotten a street map of the city and plotted my route on the map, studying it in detail so that I felt comfortable about navigating the 50 or so miles. I managed to find the place with little difficulty, which surprised me a little given my previous experiences with navigation, parked in one of their visitor's bays and followed the signs to Reception. I was a little early because I'd given myself a good margin in case of delays. I approached the desk feeling intensely nervous but my desire to finally get a job allowed me to overcome my fear and I introduced myself to the receptionist, stating that I was there for an interview with a certain person. The receptionist was entirely friendly and professional which helped (they must see any number of nervous candidates so I guess with hindsight I didn't seem unusual). I was told to take a seat and wait for the person who would come an meet me before we went for the interview.
After what seemed like ages because I was so keyed up, but was in reality no more than ten minutes, the manager arrived and introduced himself. I remembered to stand up to meet him and to shake hands, and then he led me into the offices to the interview room. He asked me to sit and offered me a tea or coffee: I declined. I figured that no offense would be taken from my refusal and I really didn't want to contend with a pressing bladder in my nervous state. He was relaxed but professional in his manner: he must have been experienced at conducting interviews as it all felt very fluent.
He started by asking about my education and I responded, consciously reminding myself to speak clearly, not too fast, and to make eye contact (or at least a point above his shoulder). I seemed to get away with it and as far as I could tell I didn't come across as either staring intensely or avoiding his gaze entirely. I couldn't hide my nerves and was aware that I was fidgeting with my hands but I guess it wasn't excessive because it didn't appear to attract his attention. Without ever touching on any technical aspects the interview wound to a close, having been mostly about my educational experiences, why I had left university, and what I had been doing since then. He offered me a tour of the offices and then led me back to Reception where he bid me goodbye and said that they had other candidates to interview and they would be in touch.
I left, walking back to the car, thinking about what had just happened and wondering how it had gone: with my lack of interview experience I didn't know whether it had gone well or badly. I took off my tie and unbuttoned my collar to much relief before driving back home where my parents asked me how it went. What could I say? I didn't know. I settled down to wait for a response which arrived in the mail a couple of days later: they thanked me for my time but I had not been successful. I was disappointed but not excessively so: I had resigned myself to a long battle before I would be successful but never had any doubt that I would succeed.
Over the next two months I had another three or four interviews dotted around the country that went the same way before I encountered something a little different. This one was a small software company based in Surrey, some 200 miles from my home in Lancashire. I traveled down by rail, taking a window seat so I could spend the journey watching the scenery pass by instead of having to avoid the gazes of my fellow passengers -- I don't enjoy public transportation but there wasn't another option. Arriving at my destination I realized that I didn't know how to get to the street where the office was located but I had the presence of mind to ask a cab driver for directions. I walked along as directed and although it turned out to be further than expected making me a little warm and uncomfortable in my suit and tie I persevered and found the place.
I was used to the routine at Reception by now and it all went as expected, taking the offered seat gratefully as a chance to rest before my ordeal. I didn't have long to wait before my interviewer arrived and escorted me to his office. In a change from my previous experiences there was another person present already; he was introduced as a Project Manager, my interviewer also being a Project Manager. After briefly covering the familiar ground of my education I was pleasantly surprised to be asked to complete a short written programming test, and was shown to another room where I could complete it in private. I was told that they would return in 15 minutes and see how I had managed with it.
I say I was pleasantly surprised; in fact I was overjoyed to have finally been given a chance to demonstrate my skills. I don't remember the details but there were a number of short questions about the C programming language and an algorithmic problem to solve. I had completed the test several minutes earlier than the 15 minute deadline and when the first Project Manager entered to see how I was doing I told him that I'd finished and handed him the completed answers. That concluded the interview process for the day and after a brief, conventional wrapping up it was over and I left on my long journey home.
I had a positive feeling this time around which turned out to be justified as I received a phone call shortly after arriving home offering me a second interview! Well, I was overjoyed even though I reminded myself that I still had to pass the second stage and it was likely to be tougher. I had known that if I was just given a chance to show my skills I could get there. It was two weeks before my second interview date and my dad offered to drive me down there -- I guess with hindsight he had more confidence about the outcome than even I did: lucky again to have been adopted by such supportive people.
I needn't have worried. After lunch together I left my dad to head off to the second interview: I knew where I was headed this time and arrived in a much better state. The same Project Manager met me in Reception and we moved on to his office where I was introduced to the Operations Director. Apparently I had aced the test -- the best (and quickest) result they had ever had on it -- and had decided to make me the offer of a job there and then based on that showing. In my relief I think I forgot to feel my usual nervousness as it was replaced by pleasure and excitement. I didn't accept immediately: I said I'd like time to consider which I thought was rather brave of me. What if they'd withdrawn the offer? But I didn't think about any of that -- I didn't want to appear desperate and I wanted to talk it over with my dad first. They were perfectly accepting of that -- and I think it was a wise decision of mine given my lack of experience in that kind of situation.
Well, I hooked up with my dad and told him my good news... and then found out he had been looking at ads for rental places. One step ahead of me as usual: I would never have even thought about that. We returned home and I phoned to accept the offer. We then discussed when I could start: having no current job where I had to give notice I told them I could start as soon as I had somewhere to live down there. Just like that I was about to up sticks and leave home for what would be the last time. My dad took care of all the rental arrangements -- I wouldn't have known where to start -- and also helped me buy my first car. And that was that: I had finally reached my goal and gotten my first job in programming.
I recognize now that I faced a number of obstacles in getting that first job.
I'm going to start by saying that I wasn't diagnosed at the time I attended the interviews mentioned here -- I'd not even heard of Aspergers Syndrome -- but as far as I'm concerned the only effect of that was that I had no reason to ask for or expect any accommodations. I'm pretty much the same now as I was back then -- more experienced certainly but not really any more comfortable with certain situations -- except that I now have a reason that explains the way I've always been.
After dropping out of university in 1994 I finally had an idea of a direction in my life. Up to then I had always been rather passive and had gone along with my parents and teachers when they suggested what my next steps ought to be... which was how I ended up studying Natural Sciences at the University of Cambridge. Once I got over the idea that I needed a degree and realized that my special interest would suit me to a career in programming the next step seemed straightforward: get a job in that field.
Well, it wasn't straightforward at all. I bought copies of the computer press such as Computer Weekly to search the recruitment pages. I was looking for an entry level position as a C programmer -- I knew I could program but had hardly anything to put on my resumé to demonstrate experience. I was self-taught, having learned Basic first and then C, and in my degree course we had been taught the rudiments of Fortran. I had written a C program during a summer work placement to drive lab equipment and capture data, but that was only 8 weeks and not exactly commercial development.
I was persistent. I sent off application letter after letter and got back acknowledgment slips and occasionally refusal letters, month after month. I took a part-time unpaid voluntary job with a local charity doing editing and layout for publishing to keep my hand in with some kind of computer work -- it was a new startup and there was just the guy running it and one other volunteer. The guy had posted an ad in a local shop and I phoned him; he came to see me for an informal interview, which was nerve-wracking. I felt incredibly nervous despite being in the familiar environment of my own home but it seemed he was desperate for any help and was more interested in selling the job to me than treating me as a candidate. Despite my nervous stuttering and poor interpersonal skills I got the job: it wasn't something I was interested in pursuing career-wise but it did give me a taste of what an interview felt like.
I realized I had been totally unprepared this time around and would have to work on the impression I made if I was ever to get started in my chosen career. Finally after about four months of fruitless applications I was offered an interview. This time I did my homework: I asked my dad, who worked as a Chief Executive, for advice to learn as much about the structure of interviews as I could. The last time I'd been involved in any kind of competitive interview was after I applied to university and although I'd been successful that time I suspected that my academic record played a large part. Well, it turned out that it was my academic record that had given me my chance this time too -- being gifted academically did have some practical benefit.
I dressed carefully in suit and tie despite ties and buttoned collars having always made me feel physically uncomfortable. Luckily as long as the collar's not tight I can stand it for a few hours and that mode of dress is expected at interviews, at least for professional positions in the UK. It's about first impressions: the interviewer expects that the candidate will demonstrate a smartness of appearance so you have to meet those expectations the first time they lay eyes on you.
I borrowed my mum's car and drove myself to the interview. This was in the days before sat-nav or Google Maps so I'd gotten a street map of the city and plotted my route on the map, studying it in detail so that I felt comfortable about navigating the 50 or so miles. I managed to find the place with little difficulty, which surprised me a little given my previous experiences with navigation, parked in one of their visitor's bays and followed the signs to Reception. I was a little early because I'd given myself a good margin in case of delays. I approached the desk feeling intensely nervous but my desire to finally get a job allowed me to overcome my fear and I introduced myself to the receptionist, stating that I was there for an interview with a certain person. The receptionist was entirely friendly and professional which helped (they must see any number of nervous candidates so I guess with hindsight I didn't seem unusual). I was told to take a seat and wait for the person who would come an meet me before we went for the interview.
After what seemed like ages because I was so keyed up, but was in reality no more than ten minutes, the manager arrived and introduced himself. I remembered to stand up to meet him and to shake hands, and then he led me into the offices to the interview room. He asked me to sit and offered me a tea or coffee: I declined. I figured that no offense would be taken from my refusal and I really didn't want to contend with a pressing bladder in my nervous state. He was relaxed but professional in his manner: he must have been experienced at conducting interviews as it all felt very fluent.
He started by asking about my education and I responded, consciously reminding myself to speak clearly, not too fast, and to make eye contact (or at least a point above his shoulder). I seemed to get away with it and as far as I could tell I didn't come across as either staring intensely or avoiding his gaze entirely. I couldn't hide my nerves and was aware that I was fidgeting with my hands but I guess it wasn't excessive because it didn't appear to attract his attention. Without ever touching on any technical aspects the interview wound to a close, having been mostly about my educational experiences, why I had left university, and what I had been doing since then. He offered me a tour of the offices and then led me back to Reception where he bid me goodbye and said that they had other candidates to interview and they would be in touch.
I left, walking back to the car, thinking about what had just happened and wondering how it had gone: with my lack of interview experience I didn't know whether it had gone well or badly. I took off my tie and unbuttoned my collar to much relief before driving back home where my parents asked me how it went. What could I say? I didn't know. I settled down to wait for a response which arrived in the mail a couple of days later: they thanked me for my time but I had not been successful. I was disappointed but not excessively so: I had resigned myself to a long battle before I would be successful but never had any doubt that I would succeed.
Over the next two months I had another three or four interviews dotted around the country that went the same way before I encountered something a little different. This one was a small software company based in Surrey, some 200 miles from my home in Lancashire. I traveled down by rail, taking a window seat so I could spend the journey watching the scenery pass by instead of having to avoid the gazes of my fellow passengers -- I don't enjoy public transportation but there wasn't another option. Arriving at my destination I realized that I didn't know how to get to the street where the office was located but I had the presence of mind to ask a cab driver for directions. I walked along as directed and although it turned out to be further than expected making me a little warm and uncomfortable in my suit and tie I persevered and found the place.
I was used to the routine at Reception by now and it all went as expected, taking the offered seat gratefully as a chance to rest before my ordeal. I didn't have long to wait before my interviewer arrived and escorted me to his office. In a change from my previous experiences there was another person present already; he was introduced as a Project Manager, my interviewer also being a Project Manager. After briefly covering the familiar ground of my education I was pleasantly surprised to be asked to complete a short written programming test, and was shown to another room where I could complete it in private. I was told that they would return in 15 minutes and see how I had managed with it.
I say I was pleasantly surprised; in fact I was overjoyed to have finally been given a chance to demonstrate my skills. I don't remember the details but there were a number of short questions about the C programming language and an algorithmic problem to solve. I had completed the test several minutes earlier than the 15 minute deadline and when the first Project Manager entered to see how I was doing I told him that I'd finished and handed him the completed answers. That concluded the interview process for the day and after a brief, conventional wrapping up it was over and I left on my long journey home.
I had a positive feeling this time around which turned out to be justified as I received a phone call shortly after arriving home offering me a second interview! Well, I was overjoyed even though I reminded myself that I still had to pass the second stage and it was likely to be tougher. I had known that if I was just given a chance to show my skills I could get there. It was two weeks before my second interview date and my dad offered to drive me down there -- I guess with hindsight he had more confidence about the outcome than even I did: lucky again to have been adopted by such supportive people.
I needn't have worried. After lunch together I left my dad to head off to the second interview: I knew where I was headed this time and arrived in a much better state. The same Project Manager met me in Reception and we moved on to his office where I was introduced to the Operations Director. Apparently I had aced the test -- the best (and quickest) result they had ever had on it -- and had decided to make me the offer of a job there and then based on that showing. In my relief I think I forgot to feel my usual nervousness as it was replaced by pleasure and excitement. I didn't accept immediately: I said I'd like time to consider which I thought was rather brave of me. What if they'd withdrawn the offer? But I didn't think about any of that -- I didn't want to appear desperate and I wanted to talk it over with my dad first. They were perfectly accepting of that -- and I think it was a wise decision of mine given my lack of experience in that kind of situation.
Well, I hooked up with my dad and told him my good news... and then found out he had been looking at ads for rental places. One step ahead of me as usual: I would never have even thought about that. We returned home and I phoned to accept the offer. We then discussed when I could start: having no current job where I had to give notice I told them I could start as soon as I had somewhere to live down there. Just like that I was about to up sticks and leave home for what would be the last time. My dad took care of all the rental arrangements -- I wouldn't have known where to start -- and also helped me buy my first car. And that was that: I had finally reached my goal and gotten my first job in programming.
I recognize now that I faced a number of obstacles in getting that first job.
- No degree. I know for a fact that some firms do not even consider candidates without a degree or equivalent, and it is nearly always listed as a requirement in the ad. The fact that I had gained a place at Cambridge counted in my favor here even though I never graduated: just getting into a prestigious university makes you stand out.
- No experience. This one's a biggie -- recruiters look at previous positions held in order to match candidates to openings. No previous jobs means no matches. It's not so much of an issue for entry-level jobs but there aren't too many of those, and then the lack of a degree comes into play.
- Poor interpersonal skills. This is the ASD-related obstacle on my list and its effect is variable. It won't stop you getting that first contact or interview but then it can have a detrimental effect on the interviewer's impression of you as a person. The unfortunate fact here is that these people are looking for somebody to work with them, and -- skills aside -- they will favor the candidate whose personality fits best into the existing team.
Tuesday, 27 August 2013
Studying Conversation
Partly as a result of my anxiety therapy I have been paying special attention to conversations recently, both those I have been involved in and others that I've observed, to learn more about their structure and the behavior of the participants. This has involved paying more attention than I would normally as well as trying to watch people, which I have found to be difficult for a number of reasons.
That first part, focusing on what the people are saying instead of considering my own responses, has had three effects: I find I am better able to recall details of what has been said, I interact less because the time I take to build a response means that the conversation has usually moved on, and it takes considerably more energy to maintain the level of concentration which leaves me feeling tired.
The aim of watching people was to try to observe non-verbal signals. Now, I didn't expect this to be easy but it was worse than I had anticipated: in the nearly forty years of my life I have managed to gain no more than a very basic knowledge of body language. I can recognize smiles. I can sometimes pick up when somebody is angry or upset. But that's about it: how do you look for signs when you don't know what they look like? It's not like people are holding up little flags. So if there are any signals that people use when they're conversing they're lost on me. It's like the patterns that flowers have that only show in UV light which bees and other insects can see but humans can't: if you can't see anything there you can't begin to interpret it.
The one thing I did think to try to watch was people's direction of gaze... which involves looking at their eyes... in other words, eye contact. This is a common issue for those on the Spectrum: it's difficult to strike a balance between obvious avoidance and staring. I tried it out on my wife, concentrating on her eyes while she spoke, and she told me it was intimidating and off-putting because I was staring so intensely. After that I decided not to try it out on others. Besides which, I rationalized that it would probably distort the behavior I was trying to observe in the first place!
My limited observations did allow me to hypothesize up to a point. I identified a distinction between functional conversation where the aim is to convey or acquire information, and small talk which doesn't appear to fulfill any purpose. I tentatively suggested that it was a mechanism for establishing and maintaining social bonds, which my therapist agreed with. I have little or no problem with functional conversation because there is a purpose to the exercise. Whereas small talk... feels pointless. Do I really want to go around commenting on the weather to people? Why?
I guess a large part of my problem is that I don't really understand social bonds (maybe I've just identified my next area of study). No real conclusions yet from all this: even with a focus for my observations I have not been able to gain much insight. But then this is a very common area of difficulty for those on the Autism Spectrum.
That first part, focusing on what the people are saying instead of considering my own responses, has had three effects: I find I am better able to recall details of what has been said, I interact less because the time I take to build a response means that the conversation has usually moved on, and it takes considerably more energy to maintain the level of concentration which leaves me feeling tired.
The aim of watching people was to try to observe non-verbal signals. Now, I didn't expect this to be easy but it was worse than I had anticipated: in the nearly forty years of my life I have managed to gain no more than a very basic knowledge of body language. I can recognize smiles. I can sometimes pick up when somebody is angry or upset. But that's about it: how do you look for signs when you don't know what they look like? It's not like people are holding up little flags. So if there are any signals that people use when they're conversing they're lost on me. It's like the patterns that flowers have that only show in UV light which bees and other insects can see but humans can't: if you can't see anything there you can't begin to interpret it.
The one thing I did think to try to watch was people's direction of gaze... which involves looking at their eyes... in other words, eye contact. This is a common issue for those on the Spectrum: it's difficult to strike a balance between obvious avoidance and staring. I tried it out on my wife, concentrating on her eyes while she spoke, and she told me it was intimidating and off-putting because I was staring so intensely. After that I decided not to try it out on others. Besides which, I rationalized that it would probably distort the behavior I was trying to observe in the first place!
My limited observations did allow me to hypothesize up to a point. I identified a distinction between functional conversation where the aim is to convey or acquire information, and small talk which doesn't appear to fulfill any purpose. I tentatively suggested that it was a mechanism for establishing and maintaining social bonds, which my therapist agreed with. I have little or no problem with functional conversation because there is a purpose to the exercise. Whereas small talk... feels pointless. Do I really want to go around commenting on the weather to people? Why?
I guess a large part of my problem is that I don't really understand social bonds (maybe I've just identified my next area of study). No real conclusions yet from all this: even with a focus for my observations I have not been able to gain much insight. But then this is a very common area of difficulty for those on the Autism Spectrum.
Saturday, 17 August 2013
Financial Disaster Area
I screwed up again. Nothing new there: it's a regular occurrence. This time I paid three bills twice, but luckily I've got the money in my account to cover it. Finances and me are not a felicitous combination: left to my own devices I will forget to pay bills, lose track of my balance and go overdrawn. Why should this be? I studied math to university level, I was an A student at school and won a Gold Award in a national mathematics competition, I've been working as a software developer for most of my adult life: I am completely comfortable with numbers and higher mathematics.
So... it's not the numerical or arithmetical aspect that gives me trouble. It's executive function (EF). Or rather executive dysfunction, specifically as it relates to planning and working memory. I've tried to manage household finances over the years but I always come unstuck, losing track of what's paid, what's due and how much money remains in the account. I've tried using written accounts, spreadsheets, internet & mobile banking and still I fail to keep on top of it.
Of course the household budget is not the only area where I suffer these or similar problems, but it is the most serious. I can't multi-task - I am only able to concentrate on doing one thing at a time, which can be a limitation in the kitchen when I'm trying to toast bread at the same time as frying bacon. I've lost count of the number of times it has resulted in burnt toast since I forgot about it being under the grill until I smelled the burning! And at work I have problems with meetings - I sometimes forget about the meeting until after it has finished, or get confused about what day it is scheduled. And this is with a reminder on my PC: without one I am totally at sea.
Grocery shopping is another problem area (even without the associated sensory issues and the severe discomfort caused when they reorganize the shelves, but that's a whole other subject). I have a routine - no surprise there - where I make a list first, sorted according to the store layout. I pick up the items in list order, and I still miss one or two items as often as not.
It's a curious, sometimes frustrating state of affairs. I can hold down a full-time job, I can drive, I even run a darts competition in my local pub. But I can't live independently. There are key areas where I need assistance that center around running a household: finances, laundry, cleaning, maintenance. I know that I have the skills to perform these tasks, which is the most frustrating part. I just lack the organization to do them consistently in a timely manner. I've tried, I really have. I've lived on my own for periods when I was a student as well as when I first moved away from home permanently to take up a new job. And every time it has been the same end result: things fall apart after only a few weeks.
It's a benefit of being married that I have somebody else in the home whom I can rely on to do the organizing, to balance the books, and to remind me when jobs need doing. As I said to my wife only this morning, I don't know what I'd do without her.
So... it's not the numerical or arithmetical aspect that gives me trouble. It's executive function (EF). Or rather executive dysfunction, specifically as it relates to planning and working memory. I've tried to manage household finances over the years but I always come unstuck, losing track of what's paid, what's due and how much money remains in the account. I've tried using written accounts, spreadsheets, internet & mobile banking and still I fail to keep on top of it.
Of course the household budget is not the only area where I suffer these or similar problems, but it is the most serious. I can't multi-task - I am only able to concentrate on doing one thing at a time, which can be a limitation in the kitchen when I'm trying to toast bread at the same time as frying bacon. I've lost count of the number of times it has resulted in burnt toast since I forgot about it being under the grill until I smelled the burning! And at work I have problems with meetings - I sometimes forget about the meeting until after it has finished, or get confused about what day it is scheduled. And this is with a reminder on my PC: without one I am totally at sea.
Grocery shopping is another problem area (even without the associated sensory issues and the severe discomfort caused when they reorganize the shelves, but that's a whole other subject). I have a routine - no surprise there - where I make a list first, sorted according to the store layout. I pick up the items in list order, and I still miss one or two items as often as not.
It's a curious, sometimes frustrating state of affairs. I can hold down a full-time job, I can drive, I even run a darts competition in my local pub. But I can't live independently. There are key areas where I need assistance that center around running a household: finances, laundry, cleaning, maintenance. I know that I have the skills to perform these tasks, which is the most frustrating part. I just lack the organization to do them consistently in a timely manner. I've tried, I really have. I've lived on my own for periods when I was a student as well as when I first moved away from home permanently to take up a new job. And every time it has been the same end result: things fall apart after only a few weeks.
It's a benefit of being married that I have somebody else in the home whom I can rely on to do the organizing, to balance the books, and to remind me when jobs need doing. As I said to my wife only this morning, I don't know what I'd do without her.
Friday, 18 January 2013
Teasing Trouble
I find teasing very hurtful; this is a consequence of being unable to read people. I have to take everything I am told at face value, take it literally, because I am unable to determine intent based on anything other than the words spoken. I have to rely on people's honesty.
This means that whenever anybody says something about me I have to assume that it is their honest opinion of me. Because teasing involves negative comments - criticism or accusations - that paint me in a bad light, that suggest the speaker thinks ill of me, I experience feelings of betrayal that cause me great pain. My trust in that person is compromised.
An example: I have a close friend, somebody I used to work with, who is like a sister to me. Yet there are people I see socially who persist in teasing me by suggesting that there is a sexual attraction or relationship between us. As a married man I have an unshakeable loyalty to my wife - strong loyalty like this is not uncommon in Aspies - not to mention the implied insult to my friend. Knowing that behavior like that would be unthinkable to me - such impropriety - I am forced to conclude that these people are being deliberately malicious.
I fail to see their motivation, unless it is to cause me hurt. Yet when I challenge them they just say that they are "only teasing" and lay blame on me for not humoring them, for not joining in their childish games. They appear to assume that I can distinguish between this teasing and serious talk. Am I supposed to feel flattered that I can pass to this extent? Would they "tease" somebody in a wheelchair about their more obvious disability? I believe that less visible psychological conditions like autism, because they're not obvious like many physical conditions (I prefer not to refer to disabilities - we may be defined by society at large in terms of our impairments but I would rather focus on our abilities than dwell on those things that are difficult or impossible to achieve through accident or the roll of the genetic dice), are considered less real, less valid, as if these people believe that we could choose to think and act in a way they consider "normal".
Small-mindedness; unthinking, petty, vindictive cruelty. And for no better reason than their own amusement. I may be no saint myself but at least I would not intentionally cause someone pain. I would feel remorse and apologise if I was brought to understand that I had unwittingly done so. I would not try to pass it off as "only teasing": I would feel as hurt because I had hurt them.
Teasing. It is in the same vein as bullying in my book. And I have no truck with either.
Tuesday, 8 November 2011
Not Guilty
Just when you think you're getting the hang of acting "normal" something happens to bring you back to reality with a bang. I got wrongly accused of doing something bad the other day - the details don't matter. It was something I would never dream of doing; nevertheless I stood accused of it.
I reacted naturally, which is to say I failed to make eye contact, I displayed "inappropriate" facial expressions such as smiling, I didn't respond immediately. All this was taken to be a display of guilt by my (neurotypical) accuser. What can you do in such a situation? The more I protested my innocence the more I was told that I was "acting guilty".
I'm an honest person: I feel too uncomfortable to contemplate lying. Besides which, I find it hard enough to remember the details of what did happen, never mind trying to remember some invented scenario. Being accused like that and then not being believed - having my response taken to be evidence of deceit - was deeply hurtful.
My accuser in this case was somebody who prides themselves on being a good judge of character, on having great empathy. But there was no sign of any of that when dealing with me. Their instinctive reading of non-verbal cues led them totally astray when faced with somebody on the autistic spectrum. I'm led to believe that this subconscious empathy as displayed by most neurotypical people relies on the person being observed also being neurotypical and reacting in a "normal" way. They can't read the signals correctly if there is any deviation from this - their unconscious assumptions fail to hold true. The trouble is that with the assumptions being unconscious, there is no realisation that they even exist.
It's been said before elsewhere, but neurotypical people lack empathy when dealing with autistic people. They don't often notice when we feel anxious or threatened, they misinterpret our feelings based on our behaviour. They seem to have an off-the-peg, one-size-fits-all model of human behaviour, while I (I can't speak for other people on the spectrum) build a bespoke model for everyone I know.
Generalizations don't work with outliers - it's true of all statistical models. And in statistical terms, people on the autistic spectrum do fall outside the normal range when it comes to behavioural traits. That's "normal" as in an average across a population. I'm quite aware that I have some areas where I fall within normal bounds; others, especially relating to social skills, where I'm well outside.
I strongly resent my natural reactions to an accusation being taken as signs of guilt or evasion. I don't think I should have to conform to neurotypical standards of communication to be believed. Where was the vaunted empathy of this person in my case? I'd call it a spectacular failure. Did they end up enlightened? No. I just got a dismissive "you're weird". They weren't willing to take the time to analyze and understand me - time that autistic people have to take if they want to interact more fully with neurotypical people. I don't think I'm wrong to feel angry about this.
I reacted naturally, which is to say I failed to make eye contact, I displayed "inappropriate" facial expressions such as smiling, I didn't respond immediately. All this was taken to be a display of guilt by my (neurotypical) accuser. What can you do in such a situation? The more I protested my innocence the more I was told that I was "acting guilty".
I'm an honest person: I feel too uncomfortable to contemplate lying. Besides which, I find it hard enough to remember the details of what did happen, never mind trying to remember some invented scenario. Being accused like that and then not being believed - having my response taken to be evidence of deceit - was deeply hurtful.
My accuser in this case was somebody who prides themselves on being a good judge of character, on having great empathy. But there was no sign of any of that when dealing with me. Their instinctive reading of non-verbal cues led them totally astray when faced with somebody on the autistic spectrum. I'm led to believe that this subconscious empathy as displayed by most neurotypical people relies on the person being observed also being neurotypical and reacting in a "normal" way. They can't read the signals correctly if there is any deviation from this - their unconscious assumptions fail to hold true. The trouble is that with the assumptions being unconscious, there is no realisation that they even exist.
It's been said before elsewhere, but neurotypical people lack empathy when dealing with autistic people. They don't often notice when we feel anxious or threatened, they misinterpret our feelings based on our behaviour. They seem to have an off-the-peg, one-size-fits-all model of human behaviour, while I (I can't speak for other people on the spectrum) build a bespoke model for everyone I know.
Generalizations don't work with outliers - it's true of all statistical models. And in statistical terms, people on the autistic spectrum do fall outside the normal range when it comes to behavioural traits. That's "normal" as in an average across a population. I'm quite aware that I have some areas where I fall within normal bounds; others, especially relating to social skills, where I'm well outside.
I strongly resent my natural reactions to an accusation being taken as signs of guilt or evasion. I don't think I should have to conform to neurotypical standards of communication to be believed. Where was the vaunted empathy of this person in my case? I'd call it a spectacular failure. Did they end up enlightened? No. I just got a dismissive "you're weird". They weren't willing to take the time to analyze and understand me - time that autistic people have to take if they want to interact more fully with neurotypical people. I don't think I'm wrong to feel angry about this.
Monday, 26 September 2011
Walking In My Shoes
I just read a post, On Sensory Empathy by Rachel Cohen-Rottenberg, that got me thinking: do people in general only consider the emotional aspect when they talk about empathy?
I believe that inferring another person's emotional state based on what they say and how they act is the easy part - even I can do it to a certain extent. What is difficult is experiencing sensory stimuli as another person experiences them. When I listen to somebody speak I see a wonderfully rich progression of images - to a large extent my understanding of language is wired through the visual part of my brain. It's difficult to describe because it's not like watching video with the volume switched off - the images may be fleeting or they may persist, they may combine and evolve, they may be concrete or abstract. The images are the meaning to me - rather than going from sounds to words-and-phrases to meaning I go from sounds to word-and-phrase-images to meaning. How can somebody who experiences language in what I would consider to be a less rich manner ever properly understand - empathise with - my sensory experience?
And how could they understand the physical discomfort and pain that some stimuli can cause unless they can find some analogue, some equivalent within the realm of their own experience. I can tell people that I can't stand to hear a certain sound, breaking glass for instance. They don't know why I can't stand it, how it feels for me to hear that sound. How it is physically painful because it overloads my senses - it is too intense. Note that I'm not saying too loud or too high-pitched - it's too bright, like a sudden flash of direct sunlight into my eyes. Try to imagine seeing and hearing a bottle smash on the ground in front of you and - at the same time - it reflecting a flash of the full brightness of the midday sun into your eyes. You physically feel the force of it hit you like a wave. That is approximately how the sound feels. That is what I mean when I talk about it overloading my senses.
Can somebody who is not a visual thinker appreciate how I think about things? Can they develop a model - a theory - of my mind without having any experience of how it really works? I will admit that it is conceivable - after all I can imagine thought without pictures. I imagine it must be something like being blind. Other faculties would have to compensate. I have read that someone who is blind can still experience images in their mind, so I could reasonably expect them to be able to imagine having sight. But I wouldn't expect it to be easy or necessarily accurate. In a similar way I do not expect non-visual people to be good at imagining what the world looks, feels and even sounds like to me.
I view neurotypical people in a more understanding way now that I realise this. I recognise that they often have talents in areas where I have trouble, especially when interacting with the average person in the street. They seem to be able to intuitively read other NT people's emotions. But with me, and other people on the autistic spectrum, they seem a bit lost - a bit mind-blind. They don't often react to us as if they properly understand what we are thinking or feeling - they have trouble with empathy. They don't spot the signs when we are having trouble with sensory overstimulation and sometimes even add to the overload. But humans don't come with a user's manual to explain all this. I feel that it's everybody's responsibility to be open to the idea that there are people out there who experience the world in a different way: to be patient, understanding and to make allowances.
I believe that inferring another person's emotional state based on what they say and how they act is the easy part - even I can do it to a certain extent. What is difficult is experiencing sensory stimuli as another person experiences them. When I listen to somebody speak I see a wonderfully rich progression of images - to a large extent my understanding of language is wired through the visual part of my brain. It's difficult to describe because it's not like watching video with the volume switched off - the images may be fleeting or they may persist, they may combine and evolve, they may be concrete or abstract. The images are the meaning to me - rather than going from sounds to words-and-phrases to meaning I go from sounds to word-and-phrase-images to meaning. How can somebody who experiences language in what I would consider to be a less rich manner ever properly understand - empathise with - my sensory experience?
And how could they understand the physical discomfort and pain that some stimuli can cause unless they can find some analogue, some equivalent within the realm of their own experience. I can tell people that I can't stand to hear a certain sound, breaking glass for instance. They don't know why I can't stand it, how it feels for me to hear that sound. How it is physically painful because it overloads my senses - it is too intense. Note that I'm not saying too loud or too high-pitched - it's too bright, like a sudden flash of direct sunlight into my eyes. Try to imagine seeing and hearing a bottle smash on the ground in front of you and - at the same time - it reflecting a flash of the full brightness of the midday sun into your eyes. You physically feel the force of it hit you like a wave. That is approximately how the sound feels. That is what I mean when I talk about it overloading my senses.
Can somebody who is not a visual thinker appreciate how I think about things? Can they develop a model - a theory - of my mind without having any experience of how it really works? I will admit that it is conceivable - after all I can imagine thought without pictures. I imagine it must be something like being blind. Other faculties would have to compensate. I have read that someone who is blind can still experience images in their mind, so I could reasonably expect them to be able to imagine having sight. But I wouldn't expect it to be easy or necessarily accurate. In a similar way I do not expect non-visual people to be good at imagining what the world looks, feels and even sounds like to me.
I view neurotypical people in a more understanding way now that I realise this. I recognise that they often have talents in areas where I have trouble, especially when interacting with the average person in the street. They seem to be able to intuitively read other NT people's emotions. But with me, and other people on the autistic spectrum, they seem a bit lost - a bit mind-blind. They don't often react to us as if they properly understand what we are thinking or feeling - they have trouble with empathy. They don't spot the signs when we are having trouble with sensory overstimulation and sometimes even add to the overload. But humans don't come with a user's manual to explain all this. I feel that it's everybody's responsibility to be open to the idea that there are people out there who experience the world in a different way: to be patient, understanding and to make allowances.
Tuesday, 13 September 2011
Can I Feel Empathy?
What is empathy?
What do we really mean when we use the word? I know what I mean but does somebody else understand it in the same way? There is a lot of on-going discussion about whether autistic people can have empathy and I am wondering whether everybody is working from the same definition.
Simon Baron-Cohen defined empathy in his 2003 book The Essential Difference: The Truth About the Male and Female Brain: "Empathy is about spontaneously and naturally tuning into the other person's thoughts and feelings [...]". He goes on to describe cognitive and affective empathy: "the cognitive component: understanding the other's feelings and the ability to take their perspective" and "the affective component. This is an observer's appropriate emotional response to another person's emotional state."
Frans de Waal defined it this way in his 2008 paper Putting the Altruism Back Into Altruism: The Evolution of Empathy: "The capacity to (a) be affected by and share the emotional state of another, (b) assess the reasons for the other's state, and (c) identify with the other, adopting his or her perspective. [...] the term 'empathy' [...] applies even if only criterion (a) is met".
These appear very similar to me. So how can it be that primate social behaviourist Frans de Waal can conclude that there exists a spectrum of empathy, saying "I've argued that many of what philosophers call moral sentiments can be seen in other species. In chimpanzees and other animals, you see examples of sympathy, empathy, reciprocity, a willingness to follow social rules", while clinical psychologist Simon Baron-Cohen can describe autistic people as having "zero degrees of empathy" (although this is at odds with his comment "I have met many adults with Asperger Syndrome who can display their excellent empathy [...] when there is less time pressure creating demands to respond in real time")?
I find myself unable to see why there should be any requirement for an empathic response to happen "in real time". This seems to imply that there is an unwritten component in the definition of empathy that differs depending on who is using the term - at which point we are in Humpty Dumpty territory: "When I use a word it means what I choose it to mean. Neither more nor less." Now I am well aware that language is an imprecise tool, and that the meaning the author intended is not always the one interpreted by the reader. But the subject of autism and empathy is such an emotive one for so many of us on the spectrum that I believe greater transparency is essential.
And so to my question that started this essay: can I feel empathy? I score low on the EQ (Empathy Quotient) test - around the mean for people with AS. But what does this test actually measure? Is my interpretation of the questions the meaning the author intended? For example, "21. It is hard for me to see why some things upset people so much." - I have to agree with this because it was hard for me to see why someone ended up in tears because of some trivial event. With the incident I am thinking of, it was hard for a lot of neurotypical people to see as well. But would they interpret that statement in a more general sense? For me, one example is enough to make the statement true.
And then there's "32. Seeing people cry doesn’t really upset me." That's absolutely, literally correct - it doesn't. Knowing that people are upset does upset me, but not just seeing them cry. I need more context - there must be more than the isolated fact of them crying to indicate to me that they are upset. Chopping onions makes my wife cry - it doesn't mean that she's upset, or that it would upset me.
Is there something about the literal way that AS people interpret language that skews the results of this type of test? Remember that it was written by neurotypical researchers looking to demonstrate differences between NT and AS minds. You will have to pardon my scepticism but while I have to agree that there is a statistical correlation between EQ scores and autism, I am not convinced that a causal link has been demonstrated. I am not satisfied that the hypothesis that autistic people have low empathy is correct. I need to be convinced that social and communication factors have been adequately considered as alternative explanations.
Finally, in answer to the question, yes - I can feel empathy. It doesn't matter how I arrive at that empathy, or how long it might take me to get there. No, it's not intuitive to me. No, it's not particularly rapid. But that doesn't matter - those aren't defining characteristics of empathy. I do get affected by and share the emotional state of other people, particularly those whom I know well. Sometimes it's because they simply tell me how they feel - does it matter whether they communicate their feelings verbally or non-verbally? The end result for me is the same. Like they say, if it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck... it's a duck!
What do we really mean when we use the word? I know what I mean but does somebody else understand it in the same way? There is a lot of on-going discussion about whether autistic people can have empathy and I am wondering whether everybody is working from the same definition.
Simon Baron-Cohen defined empathy in his 2003 book The Essential Difference: The Truth About the Male and Female Brain: "Empathy is about spontaneously and naturally tuning into the other person's thoughts and feelings [...]". He goes on to describe cognitive and affective empathy: "the cognitive component: understanding the other's feelings and the ability to take their perspective" and "the affective component. This is an observer's appropriate emotional response to another person's emotional state."
Frans de Waal defined it this way in his 2008 paper Putting the Altruism Back Into Altruism: The Evolution of Empathy: "The capacity to (a) be affected by and share the emotional state of another, (b) assess the reasons for the other's state, and (c) identify with the other, adopting his or her perspective. [...] the term 'empathy' [...] applies even if only criterion (a) is met".
These appear very similar to me. So how can it be that primate social behaviourist Frans de Waal can conclude that there exists a spectrum of empathy, saying "I've argued that many of what philosophers call moral sentiments can be seen in other species. In chimpanzees and other animals, you see examples of sympathy, empathy, reciprocity, a willingness to follow social rules", while clinical psychologist Simon Baron-Cohen can describe autistic people as having "zero degrees of empathy" (although this is at odds with his comment "I have met many adults with Asperger Syndrome who can display their excellent empathy [...] when there is less time pressure creating demands to respond in real time")?
I find myself unable to see why there should be any requirement for an empathic response to happen "in real time". This seems to imply that there is an unwritten component in the definition of empathy that differs depending on who is using the term - at which point we are in Humpty Dumpty territory: "When I use a word it means what I choose it to mean. Neither more nor less." Now I am well aware that language is an imprecise tool, and that the meaning the author intended is not always the one interpreted by the reader. But the subject of autism and empathy is such an emotive one for so many of us on the spectrum that I believe greater transparency is essential.
And so to my question that started this essay: can I feel empathy? I score low on the EQ (Empathy Quotient) test - around the mean for people with AS. But what does this test actually measure? Is my interpretation of the questions the meaning the author intended? For example, "21. It is hard for me to see why some things upset people so much." - I have to agree with this because it was hard for me to see why someone ended up in tears because of some trivial event. With the incident I am thinking of, it was hard for a lot of neurotypical people to see as well. But would they interpret that statement in a more general sense? For me, one example is enough to make the statement true.
And then there's "32. Seeing people cry doesn’t really upset me." That's absolutely, literally correct - it doesn't. Knowing that people are upset does upset me, but not just seeing them cry. I need more context - there must be more than the isolated fact of them crying to indicate to me that they are upset. Chopping onions makes my wife cry - it doesn't mean that she's upset, or that it would upset me.
Is there something about the literal way that AS people interpret language that skews the results of this type of test? Remember that it was written by neurotypical researchers looking to demonstrate differences between NT and AS minds. You will have to pardon my scepticism but while I have to agree that there is a statistical correlation between EQ scores and autism, I am not convinced that a causal link has been demonstrated. I am not satisfied that the hypothesis that autistic people have low empathy is correct. I need to be convinced that social and communication factors have been adequately considered as alternative explanations.
Finally, in answer to the question, yes - I can feel empathy. It doesn't matter how I arrive at that empathy, or how long it might take me to get there. No, it's not intuitive to me. No, it's not particularly rapid. But that doesn't matter - those aren't defining characteristics of empathy. I do get affected by and share the emotional state of other people, particularly those whom I know well. Sometimes it's because they simply tell me how they feel - does it matter whether they communicate their feelings verbally or non-verbally? The end result for me is the same. Like they say, if it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck... it's a duck!
Friday, 9 September 2011
If This Is Empathy I Don't Want To Play Any More
The petty games that people play,
A product of their playground minds.
Who's going to be "it" today?
What target will the bullies find?
Behind your back they put you down
And to your face are nice as pie
The knives are out so gather round:
You mustn't miss the latest lie.
It's "Did you know what this one said?"
And "Isn't that one so two-faced?"
Hypocrisy: "Wish she was dead!"
Then she turns up to be embraced.
With double-standards hoisted high,
Their friendliness is but a fake.
They wouldn't care were you to die
As long as they were at your wake.
Their games are cruel; You've had enough
Of finding knives thrust in your back.
You don't know why they act so tough
Perhaps to hide the heart they lack?
They put you down, these NT folk,
They may not mean to but they do.
'Cause "Aspie empathy's a joke!
Perceived emotion's not for you."
Because we can't say how we feel
They just assume we don't: they're blind
To how they've ground us under heel.
Show me their Theory of our Minds.
A product of their playground minds.
Who's going to be "it" today?
What target will the bullies find?
Behind your back they put you down
And to your face are nice as pie
The knives are out so gather round:
You mustn't miss the latest lie.
It's "Did you know what this one said?"
And "Isn't that one so two-faced?"
Hypocrisy: "Wish she was dead!"
Then she turns up to be embraced.
With double-standards hoisted high,
Their friendliness is but a fake.
They wouldn't care were you to die
As long as they were at your wake.
Their games are cruel; You've had enough
Of finding knives thrust in your back.
You don't know why they act so tough
Perhaps to hide the heart they lack?
They put you down, these NT folk,
They may not mean to but they do.
'Cause "Aspie empathy's a joke!
Perceived emotion's not for you."
Because we can't say how we feel
They just assume we don't: they're blind
To how they've ground us under heel.
Show me their Theory of our Minds.
Tuesday, 6 September 2011
Rights Manifesto
I just read a post by Rachel Cohen-Rottenburg, The Empathy Issue Is a Human Rights Issue, and it got me thinking about the rights I take for granted.
The first right I list below, "to be identified and treated as a member of the human race", is a direct reaction to some of the quotations in Rachel's post - statements she has found in certain academic papers on the subject of autism and empathy. These quotations indicate that a significant number of researchers - some at the top of their fields in psychology and neuroscience - are denying autistic people their humanity based on perceptions of limited or absent empathy. I take great offence at the implications of this - I feel strongly that this is a dangerous direction to be heading in: once you start thinking of a group as non-human the next step is to treat them as non-human, without human dignity and rights.
If anybody reading this feels that this seems a small point to be taking issue with, may I remind them that, historically, labelling a group as inferior has been a prelude to their exploitation (enslaving black Africans) or persecution (denial of freedom to women to this day in parts of the world). I will speak out against such malicious, pernicious misrepresentation because I believe we are all human with all the worth and dignity that entails. There are some people who would twist and restrict their definition of human to divide their world into "people like me" and "people different from me" - with the latter group being summarily cast out from the human race. Here's a thought for you: would you feel it was more offensive if instead of autistic people it was black, Jewish, disabled, terminally ill or English people that were being called non-human?
So, having said my piece on that subject, here's my take on the rights I claim, and what I will give in return.
The first right I list below, "to be identified and treated as a member of the human race", is a direct reaction to some of the quotations in Rachel's post - statements she has found in certain academic papers on the subject of autism and empathy. These quotations indicate that a significant number of researchers - some at the top of their fields in psychology and neuroscience - are denying autistic people their humanity based on perceptions of limited or absent empathy. I take great offence at the implications of this - I feel strongly that this is a dangerous direction to be heading in: once you start thinking of a group as non-human the next step is to treat them as non-human, without human dignity and rights.
If anybody reading this feels that this seems a small point to be taking issue with, may I remind them that, historically, labelling a group as inferior has been a prelude to their exploitation (enslaving black Africans) or persecution (denial of freedom to women to this day in parts of the world). I will speak out against such malicious, pernicious misrepresentation because I believe we are all human with all the worth and dignity that entails. There are some people who would twist and restrict their definition of human to divide their world into "people like me" and "people different from me" - with the latter group being summarily cast out from the human race. Here's a thought for you: would you feel it was more offensive if instead of autistic people it was black, Jewish, disabled, terminally ill or English people that were being called non-human?
So, having said my piece on that subject, here's my take on the rights I claim, and what I will give in return.
- I have the right to be identified and treated as a member of the human race.
- I have the right to express myself in whatever way is most natural for me to the extent that it does not breach the rights of any other person.
- I have the right to hold my own opinions and beliefs and not have them imposed on me by others.
- I have the right to be free from intolerance, intimidation, exploitation, persecution and abuse.
- I have the right to feel safe and free from anxiety, and the right to seek a place of safety if I feel threatened.
- I have the right to be different without interference or being told that there is something "wrong" with the way I am.
- I have the right to expect understanding from other people.
- I have the right to make mistakes without incurring any disproportionate penalties.
- I have the right to be left alone in peace when I need to shut down.
- I have the right to choose who I associate with, and who I do not associate with.
- I have the right to ask for help when I need it, and the right to refuse help when I do not.
- I have the right to live, or the right to die should I choose to.
- I will take responsibility for my own actions.
- I will treat other people as I would expect to be treated myself: with understanding and compassion.
- I will be tolerant of other people and will not intimidate, persecute, exploit or abuse them.
- I will allow other people to express themselves and to act in whatever way they see fit as long as they do not infringe upon my rights or the rights of others.
- I will not force my own beliefs and opinions on other people.
- I will offer help to those in need and refrain from interference in the affairs of those who want to be left alone.
- I will accept that everybody is different and that this does not affect their worth as human beings.
- I will dissociate myself from those who breach my rights or the rights of others, and will not tolerate them as long as they cause harm.
- I will judge others based on how they treat myself and others, and not on how they might differ from me.
- I will endeavour to correct any mistakes I make.
- I will accept that nobody is infallible and forgive accidental mistakes by others.
- I will accept restriction of my rights should I fail to fulfil my responsibilities.
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