The “Empathy Deficit” fallacy

At the risk of falling to the theory of self-reference, I’ve always been skeptical that people with autism lack empathy. I’ve just never seen that deficit in Sam, nor in any other people with autism or Asperger’s that I’ve met.

I got to thinking about that after reading this piece in the Boston Globe, which goes to some length to describe how our kids apparently are lacking it.

Empathy, by definition, means some kind of emotional response to the pain or suffering of another. Babies and children don’t always demonstrate their empathy the way adults do — that’s part of our socialization — but they feel it just the same.

My guess is that some of us not on the spectrum look for empathy to be demonstrated in a tangible way. Then when we don’t see it, we say “a-ha, that person with autism lacks empathy.”

The Boston Globe article even spelled that out with a list of tasks an empathetic person is more likely to do. Most of them, I could imagine Sam doing, but not always for purely empathetic reasons.

For example, “return incorrect change to a cashier” could also be following the rules and keeping things correct.

The next two, “let someone else ahead of them in line” and “carry a stranger’s belongings” requires a person to break a social rule about getting into another person’s personal space. Sam does this all the time at Albertsons because he is a courtesy clerk and it’s expected of him. I’ve seen it generalize.

“Give money to a homeless person,” “volunteer,” “donate to a charity,” check, check and check. In fact, we talk about picking our charitable causes with purpose.

“Look after a friend’s pet or plant,” been there, done that.

“Live on a vegetarian die.” Sorry, we’re in Texas and he’s meat-eater. But butchering day comes with much reverence. We all know where our food comes from.

Sometimes I think we overreact to perceived deficits.

Sam doesn’t hug me. I don’t ask for it. Here’s why. The few times we do hug, there is so much human connection, I can almost feel the nuclear fission begin. Better not to disturb the universe like that.

Corpus Christi Report

I love the mind-meld that happens when everyone whose been in the trenches talks amongst themselves, as just happened last weekend at the Texas State Autism Conference. Great things can happen when everyone not only comes together and keeps together, but also works together.

There is a lot of work to be done for kids that are transitioning to colleges and the work force, but we’ll get there.

Perhaps the crisp blue skies, white clouds, and fresh, sweet air got to my head, but I think all things are possible again.

Shoot the moon

Despite being institutionalized briefly as a toddler, autism’s first child, Donald Triplett, survived and thrived because his parents brought him back home to Forest, Miss.

From his school chums to his golfing buddies, Donald’s community accepts his strengths and helps protect him from people with dubious intentions.

It doesn’t just take a village. It takes a village with soul.

Forgotten stories of autism

The Atlantic has a fantastic story about Donald Triplett, the first person to be diagnosed with autism. The authors, John Donvan, perhaps more famously known as an ABC Nightline correspondent and Caren Zucker, a television producer and mother of a teen with autism, got the story as part of a collection they are working on for a new book.

The story shows us how Donald became to be diagnosed, what his early life was like, how he enjoys his twilight years — golfing, as any well-heeled gentleman might spend his retirement — and how he’s living as an accepted member of his hometown, Forest, Miss.

The authors sought out an expert in adults with autism to flesh out their story — kind of a rare breed. One thing that Peter Gerhardt, developer of an adolescence-to-adulthood program at the McCarton School, said, resonated with me:

“People want to treat these adults [with autism] like little kids in big bodies. They can’t. They’re adults.”

Here, here.

“It’s having friends It’s having interesting work. It’s having something you want. It’s all the things the rest of us value, once given an opportunity.”

Overheard in the Wolfe House #28

Sam: It’s Oct. 1. Have you downloaded your bank statement yet?
Peggy: Oh, no, not yet.
Sam: Are you all caught up on Quicken yet?
Peggy: Oh, no, I’m behind.
Sam: I’m all caught up on Microsoft Money, checking, savings …
Peggy: Way to go, Sam. High Five.
(Sam hits Peggy’s hand on both sides, then sandwiches them and shakes.)
Peggy: Ok, well shake hands then.
Sam: It’s uncommon to shake hands in our family.