# Chapter 8 - Creating a Neurodiverse World * [CHAPTER 8](#chapter-8) * [Creating a Neurodiverse World](#creating-a-neurodiverse-world) * [Expanded Legal Protections for Disabled People](#expanded-legal-protections-for-disabled-people) * [Building Sensory-Friendly Public Spaces](#building-sensory-friendly-public-spaces) * [Visual](#visual) * [Auditory](#auditory) * [Tactile](#tactile) * [Olfactory and Gustatory](#olfactory-and-gustatory) * [Broadened Social Norms](#broadened-social-norms) * [Expanded Public and Professional Education on Neurodiversity](#expanded-public-and-professional-education-on-neurodiversity) * [Common, Healthy Autistic Behaviors](#common-healthy-autistic-behaviors) * [Universal Health Care and Basic Income](#universal-health-care-and-basic-income) * [Abolition of Carceral Systems](#abolition-of-carceral-systems) * [Unmasking Is for Everyone](#unmasking-is-for-everyone) --- # CHAPTER 8 ## Creating a Neurodiverse World Most countries’ legal systems, health care systems, and educational institutions approach disability using what is called the medical model of disability. The medical model understands disability as a condition that exists inside an individual person’s body or mind. If you’re disabled, you personally have a problem that must be identified, diagnosed, and then either treated or cured. The purpose of medicine and psychiatry is to identify what is wrong with people and prescribe some kind of intervention that will make the symptoms of that wrongness go away. It is because of this belief system that we have organizations such as Autism Speaks, which presents Autism as a terrible affliction that steals children away from their parents and which desperately needs a cure,[^8.1] and therapeutic methods such as ABA therapy, which does not improve Autistic kids’ happiness or comfort, but does render them obedient and less of a barrier to their parents living busy, productive lives. The medical model of disability has given many of us (and most of our doctors and therapists) the idea that human suffering is best understood as a problem to be fixed through individual changes. And for many illnesses and disabilities, medical care and a medical lens is undeniably appropriate. If you’re someone who is in excruciating, daily pain due to nerve damage, medical treatment and medication can help you. If you have a degenerative condition that progressively gets worse, such as multiple sclerosis, you have every reason to support medical research in pursuit of a cure. Where the medical model of disability fails is in making sense of disabilities that come from social exclusion or oppression. Sometimes what society (and the psychiatric establishment) considers to be an individual defect is in fact a perfectly benign difference that needs accommodation and acceptance instead. Though being gay was once classed as a mental illness, it never actually was one. Trying to “cure” gayness never worked, and only caused more psychological damage. In fact, categorizing gay people as sick created the illusion that they actually were mentally ill, because ostracism and shame does frequently contribute to depression, anxiety, substance use, and self-harming behaviors, among other psychological issues. Enter the social model of disability, originally coined in the 1980s by disabled academic Mike Oliver.[^8.2] In his writing, Oliver described disability as a political status, one that is created by the systems that surround us, not our minds and bodies. A clear-cut example of this is how most educational institutions exclude Deaf students. There are entire school systems and communities run by Deaf people, for Deaf people, where everyone uses sign language and access to audio captioning and other resources are provided as a matter of course. In this context, being Deaf is not a disability. In fact, a hearing person who doesn’t know sign language is the one who would be marginalized, if they were living in a Deaf-centered world. However, most people live in a world where Deafness and sign language use have mostly been seen as undesirable, and an indication a person is defective. The word dumb is an insult specifically because nonspeaking Deaf people were seen as less competent and less fully human than their speaking, hearing peers. Due to this attitude, most public spaces don’t provide Deaf people with the resources they need.[^8.3] It is in this way that most schools (and other institutions) actively dis-able Deaf people. The same can be said for Blind people, who are frequently excluded from public education and denied Braille materials and screen-reading software. It’s also true of fat people, whose bodies are not accommodated on public transit, in classrooms, or in medical equipment, and who are frequently excluded from medical research.[^8.4] The social model of disability applies to many of the struggles Autistic people experience. Each of us has been repeatedly overlooked and excluded because society views our differences as shameful defects rather than basic human realities to accept. Often, we are dis-abled for completely arbitrary reasons, just as Deaf people are. A world where everyone uses sign language is possible, but because hearing people have greater numbers and more social power than Deaf people do, spoken language gets prioritized. Similarly, a world where eye contact is not required is entirely possible (and in fact, there are many cultures where avoiding eye contact is considered polite).[^8.5] However, in cultures where eye contact is expected, the Autistic people who find it painful are dis-abled both socially and professionally. And it isn’t just Autistics who are penalized by this norm: people who find eye contact difficult because of social anxiety, trauma, or because their home culture discourages it are also harmed by this social norm. Having a social disability goes hand in hand with the obligation to mask. If stimming in public will get you assaulted or arrested, you are both socially dis-abled and forced to mask. If you struggle at work because you can’t play by elaborate, unstated social rules, and you wind up unemployed as a result, you have been socially disabled and severely punished for your failure to mask correctly. This is why unmasking at a personal level has its limits. An individual solution cannot fix a far-reaching system of oppression. As long as Autistic people exist in a culture and a political system that constantly creates and re-creates our disabled status, we aren’t fully free to unmask ourselves and live with authenticity and ease. At present, the Autistic people (or anyone who is neurodiverse) who have the greatest freedom to unmask are the ones who otherwise have the most powerful social position. I have a PhD and a cushy job as a professor; that means I get to set my own schedule many days, can dress in a comfortable, quirky way that doesn’t give me gender dysphoria or sensory overwhelm, and block out alone time on my calendar when I feel a meltdown coming on. My Autistic friends who work in grocery stores, restaurants, bars, and day care centers have no such options. Their daily schedules, attire, and even emotional displays are all tightly controlled when they are at work. All too often, they must plaster a smile on their face, swallow their pain, and incur significant psychological damage in order to stay employed. As a small, “nonthreatening” white person, I can flap my hands in public and scrunch my face into all kinds of grumpy expressions without much consequence. In contrast, if a Black Autistic person or a tall Autistic trans woman fails to act perfectly poised in public, they may be harassed, have the cops called on them, or worse. On paper, many of these exploited and marginalized Autistics might look less medically “well” than I do. They might suffer from depressive episodes, anxiety attacks, migraines, stomachaches, and more. In order to cope with the extreme stress of their lives, they’re more likely to smoke, drink, and use drugs than I am. They don’t get as much sleep as I do, and don’t feel as at ease in their bodies. But their disabilities aren’t more medically severe than my own. They’re just more socially disabled than I am, with less social power and freedom, and that takes a real toll. The only way that all Autistic people will be able to unmask is if society changes dramatically. A world with more flexible norms and less stigma is a more accessible world, with fewer disabilities and far less human suffering. It’s also a world that’s more welcoming to people with mental illnesses, immigrants and diasporic people, and anyone who has suffered because they’re not the perfect, cookie-cutter worker bee. As the psychiatric anthropologist Roy Richard Grinker writes in his titular book, Nobody’s Normal, our current definition of mental health is tied to the state and employers’ desire for productive, inoffensive conformity.[^8.6] Emotions that are too large, passions that are too childish and not profitable, habits that are too repetitive, and bodies and minds that require daily assistance all challenge this incredibly narrow definition of health. It is only by expanding our definition of what is acceptable human behavior and working to meet other people’s manifold needs that we can move forward. Many people who are categorized today as disabled or mentally ill might have functioned just fine outside of an industrialized capitalist economy. Someone who might thrive as a hunter, midwife, storyteller, or seamstress in a more interdependent society may appear dysfunctional if trapped in an office. In fact, some genomic evidence suggests that when humans moved away from hunter-gatherer-based societies and toward agrarian (and later, industrial) ones, alleles that predict neurodivergence became a disadvantage.[^8.7] For example, in societies where daily life offered less stimulation and novelty than a life of hunting and gathering did, ADHD traits turned disadvantageous. Some researchers have theorized that the same is true of Autism, but much of the research on the subject is quite poorly done, because it assumes Autism must have always been a pathology and an impairment to reproductive success.[^8.8] We don’t really have good reason to believe that is true across all societies and all periods of time, though. Our ways of living and of caring for each other are so numerous, and haven’t always been as atomized as they are today. Many neurotypes simply are not suited to long workdays, lengthy commutes, nuclear families, and isolated “independence.” Arguably, none of us are well suited for that—the nine-to-five workday is not evidence-based—but some of us suffer more visibly and pervasively than others. By tearing down our current, constricting definition of mental health, and celebrating different ways of thinking, feeling, and behaving, we can improve countless lives. By reworking society to make it more flexible and accommodating of difference, we can improve the mental and physical health of all people. In this way, unmasking is a political goal. It requires we place value on all human life, no matter a person’s abilities or needs, and view society as a social system that exists to care for all people—not an apparatus to make everyone as productive as possible. So how do we go about creating a world where neurodiversity is accommodated, difference isn’t pathology, and everyone is free to be their true selves? It’s a lofty project, but here are some concrete policies that most Autistic self-advocacy organizations advocate for and are supported by the available social science, and which I believe would make a real difference: ### Expanded Legal Protections for Disabled People In the United States, the Americans with Disabilities Act (the ADA) dramatically improved life for disabled people, and expanded their ability to participate in public life. The law targeted two major policy areas: first, it required that buildings and public transit become more physically accessible (for example, by requiring accessible parking spots and wheelchair ramps); second, it banned discrimination against disabled people in housing, hiring, promotion, and compensation.[^8.9] Throughout the world, similar disabilities rights acts have been passed that aim to create greater access for disabled people by granting fair access to shelter, work, education, and public resources and spaces.[^8.10] Unfortunately, for all its strengths, the ADA and many similar laws did not go anywhere near far enough. Though the law led to thousands of elevators and wheelchair ramps being built, and countless Braille signs being installed outside public restrooms, it also provided numerous exceptions to older and historical buildings. Many small businesses are still woefully inaccessible to wheelchairs and other assistive devices now, more than thirty years after the law passed. In some cases, recalcitrant cities and businesses exploited legal loopholes that allowed them to ignore ADA dictates, such as the grandfathering in of old structures and infrastructure. Throughout the 1980s, the Chicago Transit Authority refused to purchase buses with wheelchair lifts, despite repeated promises to the disabled community that all new equipment would be accessible. It took a years-long series of well-organized, disruptive protests[^8.11] in which physically disabled activists blocked street traffic with their wheelchairs for hours at a time[^8.12] before the city finally budged and agreed to acquire accessible transportation options.[^8.13] Even after the ADA was codified into law, this same resistance to include disabled people persisted. To this day, about a third of CTA train stations lack elevators for wheelchair users, for example.[^8.14] Whenever a station is remodeled to include an elevator and wheelchair ramps, local business owners and residents express outrage at the inconvenience and costliness of the improvements. Enforcement of ADA building requirements varies widely from state to state, and even those buildings that are perfectly compliant are really only accessible in a handful of ways. The ADA does not require that public events be captioned or sign language interpreted, for example, or that remote options be provided for those who can’t leave their homes. The law has nothing to say about bright lights, intense smells, loud music, or any of the other sensory torments that make many public spaces inaccessible to Autistic people. Often, buildings that are technically ADA-compliant remain practically inaccessible. For example, my friend Angel uses a wheelchair and requires help using the toilet. Many ADA-compliant bathroom stalls are large enough to accommodate Angel’s wheelchair, but not large enough to accommodate both his wheelchair and his caregiver. Most buildings are also too noisy and crowded for Angel to handle, so his exclusion from public life is many layered. If Autistic people are to be fully included in public life, we must vastly expand accessibility requirements to cover the sensory needs of Autistic people and regulate the accessibility of events as well as buildings. It’s not just architecture that can be hostile to disabled bodies and minds. As this book has repeatedly shown, many of the ways that disabled people are excluded are far more subtle, and social, than a clear-cut lack of ramps or Braille signage. Today, some grocery stores and retail shops offer weekly “sensory friendly” hours for Autistic shoppers and their families, where the lights are dimmed, the crowds are reduced, and the music and PA systems are turned off.[^8.15] This is currently done on a completely voluntary basis, by only a small number of shops around the world, but it provides a helpful blueprint for what sensory accessibility guidelines might look like. The Autistic Self Advocacy Network also has a toolkit on best practices for creating sensory-friendly spaces, which highlights the following:[^8.16] ### Building Sensory-Friendly Public Spaces Advice from the Autistic Self Advocacy Network #### Visual * Make lights dimmable * Use diffused light sources rather than overhead or fluorescent lights * Restrict use of flash photography * Use clear, contrasting colors for presentation slides * Make signage and handouts easy to read and simple * Limit “visual noise”: remove distracting graphics, posters, etc. #### Auditory * Remind people to silence phone notifications * Replace applause with “sparkle fingers” or another quieter alternative * Ensure speakers use microphones consistently—yelling is much harder to understand than speaking evenly into a mic is * Equip spaces with materials that absorb and dampen echo, when possible. Even a large rug can make a big difference! #### Tactile * Make elbow bumping or waving the default greeting, not handshakes or hugs * Adopt a relaxed dress code, so people can dress comfortably * Normalize the use of stress balls, fidget spinners, doodling, etc. * Fight the idea that makeup, uncomfortable formalwear, high heels, or bras make a person more “professional” * Space out chairs, provide semiprivate seating near corners or barriers #### Olfactory and Gustatory * Ban the use of strong perfumes or colognes at events * Use physical distance, barriers, or fans to keep kitchen and bathroom smells out of other areas * Use sensory-friendly, green cleaning supplies * For catered events, tell attendees the exact menu beforehand * Provide “bland” foods as a backup In addition to ensuring that public spaces are accessible on a sensory level, the ADA (and similar laws throughout the world) should expand the accessibility of public events. Captioning, sign language interpretation, and virtual participation options should be provided for large-scale public events as a matter of course, rather than by advance request only (as they currently are). In many cases, expanding the accessibility of public events would require providing sufficient funds and resources, including education on what accessibility means and why it matters. This approach would facilitate change (and reshape public attitudes toward disability) far better than a more punitive, fine-based approach, at least when it comes to public events. When it comes to enforcing building accessibility requirements and preventing discrimination in housing and employment, the ADA could be reworked to grant disabled people more power to self-advocate. The state of California is one of the most ADA-compliant states in the United States, in part because any disabled person who encounters an inaccessible business in that state is free to sue the business for a minimum of $4,000 in damages, plus legal fees.[^8.17] This approach gives disabled people the legal power to challenge inaccessibility when they encounter it, and the financial means to do so, rather than simply hope that an inaccessible building is eventually inspected by the state. In most of the country, it’s incredibly difficult for a disabled person to prove they have been discriminated against or excluded. If the California model were expanded to the entire country, and modified to apply to employment and housing discrimination cases, disabled people would have far more recourse for discriminatory treatment. Ending most states’ at-will employment status would also improve life considerably for disabled adults. At present, it’s easy for managers to fire an Autistic person (or a person with depression, schizophrenia, or Tourette’s) once they discover we are disabled, so long as they lie and say they’re terminating us for some reason other than our disabilities. Since anyone can be fired at any time for nearly any reason, there’s almost always an acceptable shield for ableism. Expanding worker protections and making it harder to arbitrarily fire someone with no notice would help prevent this from happening, and would improve the financial and job security of countless people. Autistic individuals benefit from having clear, measurable work outcomes, and a move away from at-will employment would force companies to actually articulate their expectations in a documented way. Legal protections that expand access to short- and long-term disability leave at work would also improve quality of life for many disabled people, including Autistics who are at an elevated risk of extreme burnout. It would mean we’d experience less pressure to mask any pain or despair we are experiencing. Legally requiring employers to provide flextime and remote work options without proof of disability would also immensely benefit Autistic employees (both diagnosed and self-realized), and make work more accessible to parents, people with elder care responsibilities, and many others. In these and many other ways, accommodating the needs of Autistics would create a more forgiving world for everyone, in addition to freeing us from the obligation to mask. ### Broadened Social Norms Expanding public accessibility and worker protections in the ways I outlined above would have a massive impact on public attitudes toward disability and neurodivergence. The simple act of welcoming more Autistic people into the social world is not only a powerful symbolic gesture of support, it would also be a massive step forward in normalizing neurodiverse mannerisms, behaviors, and communication styles. If Angel could use public restrooms easily and move through the public library or grocery store without experiencing a sensory meltdown, far more members of his community would get to meet him, interact with him, and witness him stimming and communicating using his iPad. At first, Angel would be met with far more stares and questions than ever before. But over time, neurotypical people in his community would find his differences mundane, and come to recognize that nonspeaking people who need caregiver support are complex, fully realized humans to be listened to and included. Historically, people with mental illnesses and disabilities were institutionalized and locked away because they were viewed as unsightly and a threat to public order. Throughout European history, asylums were places for anyone who flouted societal rules, including debtors who refused to work, criminals who had violated the ethical and moral rules of the age, and people who either looked unusual, or acted unusually, even in completely benign ways. Something as simple as a harmless physical disfigurement could be grounds to exclude someone from a free, public existence.[^8.18] We still live with the legacy of these views today. Even in the twentieth century, until deinstitutionalization took hold in the 1980s, it was considered normal and appropriate to keep intellectually disabled and visibly Autistic relatives hidden from society, and even from their family members. Locking disabled and neurodivergent people in institutions creates a feedback loop of stigma and social repression: individuals who diverge from the norm even slightly are unthinkable, and unseeable, and so society shapes itself around an increasingly narrow realm of existence, which in turn makes life harder for the next generation of people who deviate. It’s only by resisting this downward spiral of rejection and dehumanization, and opening society back up, that we can undo the massive harm that’s been done and build institutions and communities that welcome all people. Social psychological research shows that contact with marginalized groups does help reduce public prejudice toward those groups. However, only specific forms of contact are beneficial. After all, white enslavers in the American South had regular, daily contact with the people they had stolen the freedom of, but that contact did not make them any less inclined toward white supremacy. The power structures surrounding the relationship and the financial incentives of exploiting enslaved Black people made it impossible for contact to change the social order. This same problem is evoked when Black activists state today that they don’t just want a “seat at the table” in white institutions. The table was not made for them, it was constructed to keep them out, and thus it needs to be upended entirely so that we can all gather around something new. Similar principles are often at work when we contemplate meaningfully including disabled people. Merely observing a disabled person as an outsider or a pitiable curiosity won’t do much to reduce neurotypical people’s biases. Instead, research suggests that collaborative,[^8.19] extended[^8.20] contact shared between equals is what’s necessary to really change attitudes.[^8.21] It’s not enough for Autistic people to be tolerated at stores and restaurants. We need to be given equal footing (relative to neurotypical people) in volunteer positions, in the workplace, and in our churches, community centers, and gyms. Those centers of public life must be radically reorganized to suit the needs, work styles, and communication methods of everyone. Only when neurotypicals are required to work and collaborate with us as their peers will the social script be flipped, replacing the pressure to mask with the obligation to accommodate. Notably, getting to this place requires justice be attained for all marginalized people—it’s not enough for white Autistic people to be treated as equal to white neurotypical coworkers; Black people, women, trans people, immigrants, and other oppressed groups must be at equal footing as well. ### Expanded Public and Professional Education on Neurodiversity Though collaborative contact is a powerful force of prejudice reduction, it also places a heavy burden on the Autistic people who lead the change. Being visible as a marginalized person is a double-edged sword, as any out transgender person will tell you. Public awareness can put a target on your back just as easily as it can liberate. In a truly just world, I wouldn’t have to educate neurotypical people about how I think and process information, and I wouldn’t have to slowly warm people up to tolerating me, worrying the entire time that I might be mocked or attacked if I challenge neurotypical expectations too dramatically. So, while making the world more accessible does benefit Autistic people, it’s insufficient on its own. A robust program of educating the public on neurodiversity would have to accompany the policy changes I’ve recommended up to this point. Public schools should include units on mental health stigma and neurodiversity in health and social science classes, starting from a very young age. As I’ve outlined in this book, ableism and masking hits Autistic people when we are incredibly young, and so interventions need to begin early as well. When we teach children about racism, sexism, and imperialism throughout history, we should highlight how the oppressed were often branded as hysterical, paranoid, and insane. It’s important that all people—neurodiverse and neurotypical alike—come to realize how narrow definitions of sanity and “functioning” are used to harm and dehumanize. And since mental health concerns are so common (in any given year, roughly 20 percent of the population will experience some mental illness),[^8.22] it would benefit all people to have a strong psychoeducation starting from childhood. Targeted trainings on neurodiversity should be provided to doctors, teachers, and mental health professionals as well. Educators should be aware that some of their well-behaved yet withdrawn students may be masked Autistics in need of assistance, and that their acting-out “problem” kids similarly might be neurodiverse. Therapists and counselors need far more robust training in serving the needs of Autistic patients, and modifying or replacing treatments that rarely work for us (such as cognitive behavioral therapy) with those better suited to our needs. Of course, this also requires that more research be conducted on how to treat things like eating disorders, depression, social anxiety, and substance use in our populations. Autistic and otherwise neurodiverse scientists should be prioritized when funding such efforts. Much of the work published in the journal Autism in Adulthood illustrates how much the scientific literature can improve and deepen when those affected by an issue are the ones that study it. Even when I was in graduate school in the early 2010s, professionals looked down on “me-search,” as they called it, and implied that if you were studying something you had a personal stake in, you couldn’t be trusted to be objective about it. Slowly these attitudes are changing, but the stigma against being a researcher with mental health diagnoses or disabilities is still severe. Grant funding that actively encourages disabled and neurodiverse researchers would do a great deal to counter that bias. As I’ve mentioned throughout this book, most professionals know very little about Autism, particularly in adults and those who mask, and almost all approach the disability from a medical disability lens. I’ve offered workshops on neurodiversity to medical professionals, and I have taught clinical psychologists, and I was initially gobsmacked to discover most had never even heard of the social model of disability. For a lot of care providers, the belief in disability as a medical defect to be cured is absolute and unflinching. Because they have been trained to approach difference through a medical lens, and have never learned about alternatives, they routinely pathologize completely neutral, harmless Autistic traits and behaviors. Our caring professionals and educators must be made aware that alternate understandings of disability exist, and that their prejudicial attitudes often create disability where none might otherwise be there. Below are some common Autistic behaviors that teachers, therapists, and doctors tend to flag as signs of dysfunction, but which are completely harmless and ought to be understood and normalized: #### Common, Healthy Autistic Behaviors * Intense studying of a new favorite topic * Not noticing sounds or social signals when focusing on an engrossing task * Needing to know exactly what to expect before entering an unfamiliar situation * Sticking to a very rigid schedule, and rejecting deviations to that schedule * Taking a long time to think before responding to a complex question * Spending hours or days alone sleeping and recharging after a socially demanding event or stressful project * Needing “all the information” before coming to a decision * Not knowing how they feel, or needing a few days to figure out how they feel about something * Needing a rule or instruction to “make sense” before they can follow it * Not putting energy toward expectations that seem unfair or arbitrary, such as wearing makeup or elaborate grooming The more educated professionals and the public become about Autism, the less Autistic people will have to mask. We won’t have to languish, unseen and unaccepted for years, feeling alienated but unable to name why. In the first chapter of this book, I likened being a masked Autistic to being a closeted gay person. Gay people are forced into the closet at birth, because society assumes everyone is heterosexual, and is set up only to meet the needs of heterosexuals. At some point remaining closeted becomes a process we put effort into, but it’s a status that is forced on us, not a free choice. In much the same way, all Autistic people are expected at birth to behave like neurotypicals. If we aren’t diagnosed and treated with respect as children, we have no choice but to continue on wearing a neurotypical mask for years. But as acceptance of neurodiverse people expands, the assumption that all people must think, act, and feel the same way will gradually erode. If neurodiverse people and our allies continue our push for just treatment, we can eventually reach a place where society is not constantly disabling so many of us, all while withholding from us the knowledge that we’re disabled. ### Universal Health Care and Basic Income Many Autistics wind up having to mask because they never were identified as disabled when they were young. Ignorance among teachers and care providers about the varied ways that Autism can present is a huge part of this, but in countries like the United States, a lack of health care coverage plays a huge role. According to 2020 survey data from the organization Mental Health America, over 57 percent of Americans who experienced mental health struggles that year did not receive treatment.[^8.23] For those who desired treatment but could not access it, lack of insurance and lack of adequate insurance were among the most common barriers.[^8.24] Considering how costly an Autism assessment is, and how difficult it is for masked Autistics to locate competent care, it’s clear that mental health care access in the United States is in need of dramatic extension. At least half of all Autistics in the country are currently undiagnosed, and the diagnosis rate is likely far lower for women, trans people, people of color, and those in poverty. If we are to normalize the Autistic experience and build robust social systems that support Autistics and our needs, we’ll need to properly care for the mental health of all people. Autistics, like most disabled people, are unemployed and underemployed at far higher rates than the neurotypical population. Even those of us who can mask and present as “professional” occupy a very perilous spot. One awkward moment or verbal misstep at work can get us fired, particularly if we are visibly disabled or already out about our neurodiverse status. Autistic job seekers struggle to find work, because job interviews are ambiguous, high-stress performance situations. Interview questions are rarely provided in advance, and job seekers are expected to provide socially acceptable responses and reactions without appearing to “try too hard” to do so. At present, Autistic people must either mask ourselves in order to get and maintain a job, or apply for disability benefits that are too meager to live on, and which come with a variety of caveats and strings attached.[^8.25] If you are on disability, you can’t get married to someone with an income (including their own disability benefits) without having your payments reduced.[^8.26] You also can’t put more than two thousand dollars in savings, or own any assets, lest you be disqualified and cease getting payments as soon as the very next month.[^8.27] And that’s if you are able to qualify for benefits in the first place. Undiagnosed Autistics are not able to apply for disability, and recipients must have their eligibility reevaluated on a regular basis (between every six to eighteen months).[^8.28] Processing and investigating disability benefit cases is incredibly costly. It is for this reason that writer and anthropologist David Graeber suggested in the book Bullshit Jobs that it would be far less expensive and far more socially just to simply provide a baseline, universal basic income to all people, with no strings attached. While replacing all social welfare programs with universal basic income is probably not a wise move, based on the available data,[^8.29] a less restrictive, more generous approach to providing disability benefits would clearly improve disabled people’s quality of life. Rather than forcing Autistic people (and others) to prove and re-prove that we truly are disabled, and truly cannot work, universal basic income would be doled out to everyone, symbolically and practically asserting that all humans deserve to have enough money to live, no matter what. ### Abolition of Carceral Systems There is no getting rid of ableism without eradicating the oppressive, dehumanizing social structures that created it. As anthropologist Roy Grinker writes in Nobody’s Normal and psychiatrist Andrew Scull details in Madness in Civilization, throughout most of European history mentally ill people, disabled people, and people who broke the law were all locked up in the exact same facilities. There wasn’t a clear legal separation between being arrested for acting strangely, and being arrested for physically assaulting someone or stealing. Both “criminals” and “lunatics” were often regarded as disposable problems, not human beings. Eventually, though, European legal systems saw fit to distinguish between those who behaved “badly” because they were sick, and those who behaved badly because they were criminal or evil. At this point, asylums and prisons were separated, though both groups of incarcerated persons were denied legal rights. In the twentieth century, the separation between the “evil” and the “ill” reversed somewhat, as forensic psychologists began to explain law-breaking behavior as being caused by mental illnesses such as antisocial personality disorder, schizophrenia, and Autism.[^8.30] Evil was no longer understood as a moral state, but a psychological state of incurable brokenness, essentially. Functionally though, that outlook on human nature isn’t really any better. To this day, many Autistic children of color are put on the school-to-prison pipeline as early as elementary school,[^8.31] being severely punished for small misbehaviors, and even having the cops called on them when they disobey their teachers or have meltdowns. This reaction is predicated in part on the belief that some people are just “bad,” and that it’s best to remove them from society, not extend them compassion. The criminal justice system and mental health system are deeply interwoven, and they both serve to perpetuate ableism. As I described earlier in the book, disabled people are at extremely high risk of being shot by police. Black and brown Autistic people are, in particular, at an elevated risk of police violence and incarceration. Defunding the police and prisons and working to abolish these oppressive institutions will help liberate Black Autistic people, as well as others with disabilities and mental illnesses. Many people who oppose racist police violence argue that cops be replaced with social workers or therapists, and that a state-run mental health force should be dispatched when emergency calls are made. The law Timotheus Gordon Jr. and his fellow activists have helped pass in Illinois, CESSA, would do exactly that. Such a policy change would no doubt save numerous lives per year, particularly Black and brown neurodivergent lives. However, if we oppose the state-sanctioned racist violence of the police, it is equally important that we examine how mental health professionals forcibly institutionalize people of color and disabled people, take away their children, declare them legally incompetent, and otherwise further the exact same societal evils that cops do. In the summer of 2021, the world was shocked to learn that Britney Spears had been forcibly inserted with a contraceptive IUD as part of her legal conservatorship,[^8.32] and that her father had control not only of her finances, but her performance schedule, access to her children, and ability to visit with her boyfriend. These are just some of the rights that are routinely stripped from people with mental illnesses and disabilities, and for those who lack the public visibility and privilege of someone like Spears, there is almost no recourse. Though culturally competent, compassionate mental health services can be life-changing, psychiatry and psychology have also done immense structural harm to the very people they purport to serve. From the Tuskegee Syphilis Study, to Hans Asperger’s research on “high functioning” Autistics, to the forced lobotomies performed on gay people and communists, immense violence has been done in the name of science and “protecting” the public. When looked at through a medical, individual lens, a push for greater mental health can quickly warp into demanding compliance. So if we are to create a world where all Autistic people of all backgrounds are able to unmask, we have to remove the systems of power that might violently punish those who fail or refuse to conform. ### Unmasking Is for Everyone About eight years ago, my friend Wendy quit her job as an attorney very abruptly. I assumed that like many people in that field, she had gotten burnt out. In the years that followed, Wendy slowly pivoted to a new career as a legal writer. It seemed to suit her much better: she got to work from home, spend more time with her children, and go weeks without wearing anything but sweatpants. After I came out as Autistic, Wendy reached out to me privately about that time in her life. “My daughter is on the spectrum,” she told me. “She was having a really rough time a few years ago, lots of meltdowns and no friends, and we couldn’t figure out why. That’s the real reason I left my old job.” I had suspected Wendy was Autistic herself. She was private and introverted, with little patience for phoniness. She was unpretentious, with long, free-flowing hair and no makeup. Sensitive and artistic, she had never seemed like a good fit for the image-conscious, intense legal world. But as it turned out, Autism was not the explanation: “I really looked into it, but it turns out I’m not Autistic,” she said. “Was I depressed and anxious at that time, because my job was horrible and my kid was suffering? Yes, absolutely. But from raising my daughter I’ve learned I’m very not Autistic. I just happen to love an Autistic lifestyle.” Wendy’s life changed dramatically following her daughter’s diagnosis. She pulled back on her career so she could attend family therapy and homeschool her kid. They joined groups for Autistic kids and their families, and her daughter started slowly making friends. Their family moved from the city to a small house in the countryside, and they all started spending a lot more time outside. As Wendy’s family began to live at a slower, more Autism-friendly pace, Wendy felt her own depression abating. She was more relaxed and fulfilled. She found time to write poetry and make music, and to care for her older relatives when they got sick. Wendy says, “Getting to know who my daughter really is, and getting to shape our lives around that has been the best thing that’s happened to our family. So it pisses me off so much when I hear other ‘Autism mommies’ on the internet talking about how it’s this curse. It was a lifesaver for us!” When Wendy discovered that she had an Autistic child, her life was radically transformed for the better. Circumstances forced her to get off the hamster wheel of conformity and productivity and constantly doing too much, and take a step back to reevaluate what mattered most in her life. She had radically unmasked herself, even though she’s not Autistic: stripped free of the expectations of a job that didn’t match her needs, she eked out a living in a messy, cozy home filled with craft projects and clutter, and no longer felt the pressure to present as a put-together, corporate success who could “have it all.” Of course, all these big changes were only possible because Wendy had the financial and community support to make them possible. Her spouse was excited about the move to the country. The cost of living in the rural area they relocated to was cheap enough for Wendy to transition to part-time work. Through her husband’s job, both Wendy and their daughter maintained their health insurance. It was access to that health insurance that had made her daughter’s diagnosis possible in the first place. The family had community support that made child care and tutoring possible. When Wendy’s mother said ignorant things about Autism, Wendy was able to sit down with her in therapy and work through their past issues, and recorrect her mother’s ignorance. Many Autistic people and our loved ones lack such advantages. Without access to shelter, health care, and a supportive network of loving people who are willing to grow with us, none of us are free to become our true, unmasked selves. This is why it is vital for the project of unmasking to be more than just a personal one. All the self-affirmations and radical visibility practices in the world cannot overcome economic injustice, racism, transphobia, or profound social exclusion. We have to fight to create a more just, accepting, and supportive world for all people if we wish for everyone to be free to unmask. I know so many Autistic people for whom their diagnosis or self-realization was a clarifying and affirming moment. After the initial shock and shame passes, coming into a neurodiverse identity can prompt you to reexamine your entire life, and all your old values, allowing you to build something slower, more peaceful, and more beautiful. But it’s not only Autistics who benefit from embracing neurodiversity in that way. We all deserve to take a step back and ask whether our lives line up with our values, whether the work we do and the face we show to others reflects our genuine self, and if not, what we might want to change. When we accept individuals as they are, instead of warring with their unique needs and challenges, life can move at a more relaxed, accepting pace. A world that allows all Autistics to safely unmask is a world where anyone with strange interests, passionate emotions, environmental sensitivities, social quirks, or other differences is still seen as worthy and whole. Creating that world will require a lot of tireless political work as well as Autistic self-advocacy. But for the neurodivergent and the neurotypical alike, it will be worth it. [^8.1]: See this article about Autism Speaks’s infamous “I Am Autism” PSA: http://content.time.com/time/health/article/0,8599,1935959,00.html. [^8.2]: Oliver, Michael (1990). The Politics of Disablement. London: Macmillan Education. [^8.3]: For a great review of the ways Deaf people have been systematically denied access to sign language and accessible schooling, I recommend Solomon, A. (2012). Far from the Tree: Parents, Children and the Search for Identity. New York: Simon & Schuster. [^8.4]: The podcast Fat Outta Hell has a lot of great coverage on how most public spaces are inaccessible to fat bodies; even something as simple as a restaurant having tables bolted to the floor can mean the space is completely inaccessible to larger people. For an example of how excluding fat patients from medical research leads to pervasive health inequities, see this article in Nature: https://www.nature.com/articles/ejcn201457. [^8.5]: Uono, S., & Hietanen, J. K. (2015). Eye contact perception in the West and East: A cross-cultural study. PloS One, 10(2), e0118094, https://doi.org/10.1371/journal.pone.0118094. [^8.6]: Grinker, R. R. (2021). In Nobody’s Normal: How Culture Created the Stigma of Mental Illness. New York: Norton, 30. [^8.7]: Esteller-Cucala, P., Maceda, I., Børglum, A. D., Demontis, D., Faraone, S. V., Cormand, B., & Lao, O. (2020). Genomic analysis of the natural history of attention-deficit/hyperactivity disorder using Neanderthal and ancient Homo sapiens samples. Scientific Reports, 10(1), 8622. https://doi.org/10.1038/s41 1598-020-65322-4. [^8.8]: See, for example: Shpigler, H. Y., Saul, M. C., Corona, F., Block, L., Ahmed, A. C., Zhao, S. D., & Robinson, G. E. (2017). Deep evolutionary conservation of autism-related genes. Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, 114(36), 9653–9658. And Ploeger, A., & Galis, F. (2011). Evolutionary approaches to autism: An overview and integration. McGill Journal of Medicine: MJM,13(2). [^8.9]: So long as a person is “otherwise qualified to do the job.” This is somewhat subjective and does provide room for discrimination to take place. Many job listings for positions that don’t otherwise involve physical labor (say, an administrative assistant position) nonetheless state that the employee must be able to lift twenty- to fifty-pound boxes, for example. [^8.10]: https://www.un.org/development/desa/disabilities/disability-laws-and-acts-by-country-area.html. [^8.11]: Organized by the late Marca Bristo, founder of Access Living Chicago. https://news.wttw.com/2019/09/09/disability-rights-community-mourns-loss-pioneer-marca-bristo. [^8.12]: https://www.americanbar.org/groups/crsj/publications/human_rights_magazine_home/human_rights_vol34_2007/summer2007/hr_summer07_hero/#:~:text=In%20Chicago%20in%201984%2C%20people,My%20name%20is%20Rosa%20Parks.%E2%80%9D. [^8.13]: https://www.chicagotribune.com/news/ct-xpm-1987-05-27-8702080978-story.html. [^8.14]: The CTA website claims that 71 percent of all train stations are accessible “with an elevator or ramp.” The “or” here is doing a lot of work—many stations lack elevators and simply have ramps into the station at the ground level, but offer no way to the train tracks themselves. See https://wheelchairtravel.org/chicago/public-transportation/. [^8.15]: Target and Sobey’s are some of the most well-known retailers to adopt sensory-friendly hours: https://www.consumeraffairs.com/news/target-store-offers-sensory-friendly-shopping-hours-for-customers-with-autism-120916.html; https://strategyonline.ca/2019/12/04/sobeys-rolls-out-sensory-friendly-shopping g-nationally/. [^8.16]: https://autisticadvocacy.org/wp-content/uploads/2016/06/Autistic-Access-Needs-Notes-on-Accessibility.pdf. [^8.17]: http://ada.ashdownarch.com/?page_id=428#:~:text=Any%20disabled%20person%20who%20encounters,statutory%20damages%20plus%20attorney’s%20fees. [^8.18]: For a full review of how these attitudes shifted from the Middle Ages through industrialization, I recommend reading Madness in Civilization by Andrew Scull, and the first three chapters of Nobody’s Normal by Roy Grinker. [^8.19]: Mancini, T., Caricati, L., & Marletta, G. (2018). Does contact at work extend its influence beyond prejudice? Evidence from healthcare settings. Journal of Social Psychology, 158(2), 173–186. [^8.20]: Cameron, L., & Rutland, A. (2006). Extended contact through story reading in school: Reducing children’s prejudice toward the disabled. Journal of Social Issues, 62 (3), 469–488. [^8.21]: Kende, J., Phalet, K., Van den Noortgate, W., Kara, A., & Fischer, R. (2018). Equality revisited: A cultural meta-analysis of intergroup contact and prejudice. Social Psychological and Personality Science, 9 (8), 887–895. [^8.22]: Most commonly depression or anxiety, though again keep in mind these numbers are almost certainly an underestimate, given limited mental health service access. https://www.nami.org/mhstats#:~:text=20.6%25%20of%20U.S.%20adults%20experienced,2019%20(13.1%20million%20people). [^8.23]: https://mhanational.org/issues/2020/mental-health-america-access-care-data#adults_ami_no_treatment. [^8.24]: https://mhanational.org/issues/2020/mental-health-america-access-care-data#four. [^8.25]: https://www.publicsource.org/is-my-life-worth-1000-a-month-the-reality-of-feeling-undervalued-by-federal-disability-payments/. [^8.26]: https://www.specialneedsalliance.org/the-voice/what-happens-when-persons-living-with-disabilities-marry-2/. [^8.27]: https://www.ssa.gov/ssi/text-resources-ussi.htm. [^8.28]: Disability benefits eligibility has to be reestablished every six to eighteen months: https://www.ssa.gov/benefits/disability/work.html#:~:text=Reviewing%20Your%20Disability. [^8.29]: https://www.vox.com/policy-and-politics/2017/5/30/15712160/basic-income-oecd-aei-replace-welfare-state. [^8.30]: Metzl, J. M. (2010). The Protest Psychosis: How Schizophrenia Became a Black Disease. Boston: Beacon Press. [^8.31]: https://psmag.com/education/america-keeps-criminalizing-autistic-children. [^8.32]: Reproductive control is exerted over people with disabilities quite commonly: https://www.thedailybeast.com/britney-spears-forced-iud-is-common-in-conservatorships.