The autistic brain: thinking across the spectrum

Much autism scholarship is published in high-caliber scientific journals, deals in technical jargon, such as ‘de novo mutations’ and ‘copy number variants,’ and is difficult if not impossible for ordinary readers to decipher. The Autistic Brain: Thinking across the Spectrum cannot be accused of being inaccessible. The book, co-written by the famed autism-awareness advocate Temple Grandin with Richard Panek, interweaves recent scientific developments in autism, in readable form, with practical advice and anecdotes from Grandin’s personal experience.

The distinctive character of this book can be attributed, in part, to the authors’ respective backgrounds. Grandin, alongside her work in the autism arena, teaches animal science at Colorado State University. She is the author or editor of a dozen books, including the acclaimed personal account Thinking in Pictures: And Other Reports from My Life with Autism. Panek, a neuroscientist by training, now teaches writing at Barnard College and has authored four other scientific books for non-specialists.

For the most part, this eclectic joint effort succeeds. The writing is clear, and even students of autism will come away with at least a few sharable insights. But the text can also feel little too light – it is chock-full of diagrammed brains, photographs, bulleted lists, and arguably too many exclamation points. In addition, the attempt to meld Grandin’s and Panek’s voices is not entirely convincing.

At its heart, this book exposes ways in which explanations for the autistic condition continue to elude us all – including scientists. Even cutting-edge techniques such as neuroimaging, Grandin explains, ‘can’t distinguish between cause and effect’ (23). For example, some claim that the under-response of an autistic person’s cortex when looking at people’s faces could indicate ‘atrophy’ resulting from ‘reduced social engagement.’ Conversely, some contend that diminished cortical activity could be the cause of social deficits (23).

One of the book’s remedies for this confusion is to support, through scientific evidence, the increasingly popular notion of plural autisms – implying even more variability than that contained in the traditional conception of a spectrum. Importantly, the authors remind us, autism is defined by heterogeneity in terms of both causes and features. For example, even when researchers isolate a relationship between a brain structure and a behavior, ‘they can’t be sure that someone else manifesting the same behavior would have the same anomaly’ (37). On the flipside, a particular anomaly may not predict the same behavioral outcomes in each person: ‘just because you have an enlarged amygdala doesn’t mean you’re autistic’ (37).

From this technical discussion, Grandin derives practical implications. She warns against ‘label-locked thinking,’ for example, and associated pitfalls. In the case of an autistic child who also has gastrointestinal issues, she offers commonsense advice: ‘talk about his diet, not his autism’ (106). Grandin likewise challenges those who dismissively conclude that particular remedies – for example, Irlen glasses and weighted vests – are ineffective for people with autism. In reality, tools like these are crucially helpful for a subset – but not the majority – of people on the spectrum. And Grandin, herself plagued by sensory integration issues, asserts that even if they are not universal, sensory problems are ‘real’ and ‘require attention’ (73) and that denying useful tools to those who need them is unjust.

Grandin also urges educators to question myopic pedagogical assumptions. We know that many students with autism excel at spatial reasoning or ‘thinking in pictures,’ but struggle to complete abstract tasks. Why, then, should we hold fast to a rigid curricular progression when, for example, it is clear that ‘you don’t need to know how to do algebra to do geometry’ (183)? And she recounts the story of a girl who is moved to the teachers’ lounge to eat because she cannot ‘handle the noise of the lunchroom.’ The girl’s mother worries that this unequal treatment constitutes ‘segregation.’ On the contrary, Grandin responds: it is a ‘perfect’ accommodation (184). With these cases and others, The Autistic Brain promotes creative thinking to best meet the needs of each individual with autism – striving for equity over equality.

A subtle sense of autism pride also permeates the book. Grandin delivers, for example, a well-deserved blow to those who propagate deficit thinking. In so doing, she describes the revelation of the autism researcher Michelle Dawson, who herself has autism. What would be considered ‘strengths’ for a neurotypical person, Dawson says, are seen as ‘fortunate byproducts of bad wiring’ (117) when the person in question happens to have autism. And Grandin later pokes fun at the neurotypical fascination with normalcy: a truly average brain – from the ‘number of neural connections’ to the ‘size of amygdalae’ – is ‘probably pretty boring’ (103), she concludes.

For those who have seen Grandin on a book tour or at a speaking engagement, or as portrayed by Claire Danes in the well-reviewed film Temple Grandin (2010), her unique speaking style is difficult to forget. As described by writer and neurologist Oliver Sacks in An Anthropologist from Mars (1996, 257), Grandin ‘sp[eaks] well and clearly, but with a certain unstoppable impetus and fixity. A sentence, a paragraph, once started, ha[s] to be complete; nothing … left implicit, hanging in the air.’ It was this voice that first so endeared Grandin to me, and no doubt to many other readers. And although Grandin praises Panek for ‘capturing’ her voice in The Autistic Brain, I would disagree. The style is nothing like Christopher John Francis Boone’s memorable syntax in The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time (2003). In fact, Grandin’s Panek-polished voice feels a bit, well, neurotypical.

Nevertheless, the book represents a useful contribution to the ballooning oeuvre of works on autism. (In 2013 alone, according to a quick search, more than 100 books were published on the subject, from Aloe Vera: Could It Heal the Gut and Boost Brain Power in Autism to Asperger Love to Searching for Romance when You’re Not Wired to Connect.) It is no accident that Grandin, an autistic scientist,¹ remains an, if not the, authoritative voice in popular autism writing. As long as the study of autism is dominated neurotypical researchers, Grandin’s voice will provide a welcome counter-story.

Diana Baker
Lynch School of Education, Boston College, Chestnut Hill, MA, USA
[email protected]
© 2014, Diana Baker
http://dx.doi.org/10.1080/09687599.2013.856675

Notes

1. Many people with autism prefer ‘autism-first-language’ over the more commonly accepted ‘person-first’ style.