More Support for the Intense World Theory; Or, Why We Hear Better Than You

We may start looking at auditory signs of autism based on two recent discoveries. One is that autistic people hear more sounds than do neurotypical people. The other is that the reason for this is that inhibitory pathways in the brain are weaker in autistic people.

Readers of this blog will not find the latter to be the least bit surprising. Weak inhibitory neurons would of course create more intense experiences of sensory input since inhibitory neurons dampen out information. They quiet things down, so to speak.

With weak inhibitory neurons, the excitatory neurons are necessarily going to dominate. This creates positive feedback, which makes for a more intense experience of one’s senses.

The first article also contributes to the increasing number of sources touting the positive aspects of autism. They point out that autistic people often do better than neurotypical people on visual and/or auditory tasks, spotting more continuity errors in videos and being more likely to have perfect pitch. I have little doubt that my high-level skills in proofreading have everything to do with my autism. Taking in an processing more information has its advantages.

Unfortunately, that “more information” doesn’t seem to include human faces.


Becoming of Thought

It’s easy to think nothing (not for me)–
It’s how most people live (but I am plagued
By never-ending thought–what luxury
To think about nothing). I’ve often begged
For silence, thought’s inaction (it’s an act
Performed by neurons using what they’re fed
And thus thought has no being) to refract
Us to a state I’ll only meet when dead.
When thinkers think to concretize their thought
To become being, being-thought, at last,
They turn to making, poetry, not nought
Embraced by nihilist, iconoclast.
And yet unthinking order guides each mind,
Unthinkers, thinkers both, to all they find.

On the Double-Mindedness Developed Among the Different

In The Souls of Black Folk, W.E.B. Du Bois says that blacks have a sort of doubleness in them not found among whites. Blacks cannot just “be themselves,” but must always think about how they are being perceived by whites. This creates a sense that you are always of two minds: that you are not only thinking and doing, but that you are thinking about how others perceive you, and adjust accordingly. Whites never have to deal with this. Being the majority and having the majority power, they can just be themselves without worry about how anybody is thinking about them.

Du Bois would probably not be surprised if he learned that other minorities were put in similar situations in the U.S., but it probably didn’t occur to him that there were people out there with different kinds of minds, and that they too would develop such a doubleness.

I know all about this double-mindedness, because I experience it constantly. I not only have to think about what I’m going to say or do, but I have to think about how others might take it. I can either just say or do whatever I want as I want and hope that I don’t do something that will set people off, or I can always consciously think about everything I say or do before I say or do it, testing against what I expect the expectations are (and hoping I’m getting those right). If it takes me a moment to respond to something, it’s because I’m going through all this nonsense to make sure I don’t say or do something wrong.

Now, you might expect this to take place in a 45-year-old man, but you wouldn’t expect it to take place just quite yet in an 8-year-old boy. However, Daniel has said some things that shows he–on some level, at least–does understand that he has to engage in this double-mindedness.

While we all behave differently in different environments–school, home, church, work, etc.–rarely do we think these things through. However, when I asked Daniel one day if he behaved at school the way he did at home, he told me that because he has to keep it together at school, he likes to “go crazy” at home. That is, this is something he’s actually thought through. Other children may do the same thing, more or less, but how many would articulate it as such?

More negatively, Daniel has complained that his “brain is rotten.” He understands that the way his brain works is not the same as everyone else. While we would certainly prefer him to think of his brain as merely different and not as “rotten,” we get what he, as a 7-year-old at the time, was trying to articulate. When he complained one time about this, we pointed out to him that I have autism, just like him, and (because the kids happened to be watching Ghostbusters II at the time) that Dan Akyroid has autism. We suggested that someone with as much education as I have and someone who is a successful and funny actor couldn’t really have rotten brains, but that rather our brains were just different.

Unfortunately there is the too deeply human belief that “different is wrong,” and Daniel will have to learn otherwise as he matures. Because I hardly thought of my brain as rotten (everyone always said how smart I was), I thought that everyone else, being different from me, were wrong. The way that they thought was stupid, as far as I was concerned. Now, knowing what I know about myself, I realize that it is my way which is divergent and different–but that doesn’t mean rotten and wrong.

Daniel also sometimes insists that nobody likes him, that he has no friends. When we ask his teacher, she keeps insisting that he plays with the other kids all the time, meaning that there is some sort of disconnect between what others see happening and what Daniel seems to perceive. I think it’s pretty clear that Daniel understands that the other kids all think he’s “weird,” which he interprets as them not liking him. It probably doesn’t help that Daniel directs play more often than not, and can get upset when people aren’t “playing right.” Most kids aren’t going to like that, and Daniel, not understanding why they wouldn’t want to be his pawn pieces, interprets that as them not liking him or wanting to play with him. So there is likely some combination of awareness and ignorance at play, though both are driving Daniel to develop this dual awareness.

It’s probably a bit much to expect neurotypical people to allow us to just be ourselves. After all, viewing neurological differences as positive is a recent development, and it’s going to take a while to catch on. Maybe there will be a day when people with different neural structures or different cultural backgrounds can just be themselves without having to think about how they will be perceived by the power majority. We don’t know what will be gained, or possibly even lost, if and when that happens, but it would be interesting to at least find out. Daniel’s double-mindedness is already being developed; perhaps his own children won’t have to go through that.

Nerds in Special Ed

There seem to be a lot of nerdy-looking children in special education classes nowadays.

Of course, there is a great deal of overlap between “nerds” and “autistics.” It’s not impossible that the overlap is complete, that when we talk about nerds, we are essentially talking about high-functioning Autism I.

When I was in elementary/middle school, there weren’t any “nerds” in special education classes. There were a lot of poor kids, but not a lot of kids like me. My brother ended up in the special reading classes, but only because our mother pushed for him to be in there because in 2nd grade he still couldn’t read. It turned out he was severely dyslexic. But they at first resisted him being in special reading because “he doesn’t misbehave in class.”

Why are there so many nerdy-looking kids in special ed classes when there weren’t in the past? I suspect it’s because when students–like Daniel–are diagnosed with autism, even high-functioning autism (Daniel has Autism II), they are given all sorts of accommodations that end up directing them into special ed classes. Daniel for example is only required to do 5 of his 11 spelling words, though we are certain he could do them all. Of course, if he doesn’t do them all, he won’t learn them as quickly as his fellow students, and he’s going to fall behind.

I suspect that a lot of these kids in special education classes–the nerdy-looking ones, especially–really have no business being in special education. They could do the work, and they are actually increasingly able to do the work the older they get.

Historically, the nerds have grown up to be computer designers and programmers, scientists and artists. What’s going to happen if those kids are being shuttled into special education?


The names, they come and go–we label men
And women well before we know them–known,
The name forgotten–I would need a pen
To pin it down on paper scraps, then thrown
Down to the ground, up to the wind they’re strewn.
Perhaps a scraps will soon return–but when?
My name-amnesia’s only ever grown–
I recognize you, don’t know where it’s been.

Sea turtle names are easy, names of sharks
And orchids spring to mind with awesome ease–
I’ll tell you who or what I’ve read and show
My knowledge–meaning, memory–embarks
On nothing but well-traveled trails–but please
Don’t ask me for your name. I do not know.

Neurodiversity and Group Selection

Humans are hypersocial, but hypersociality doesn’t necessarily mean acceptance of diversity. And yet, humans do manage to be both hypersocial and accepting of difference. Recent research suggests that the acceptance of diversity occurred about 100,000 years ago, and allowed for more general accepting of such diversity as autism.

Why is this important? Well, if wider acceptance of neurodiversity, meaning diverse ways of thinking and behaving, were to be adaptive for groups, we would expect humans expressing such acceptance to have come to dominate. What was later developed as specialization and gains through trade likely started with a general acceptance of different kinds of human behaviors within the tribes.

Why is acceptance of neurodiversity important? Well, neurotypical people are great at copying what everyone else is doing, but it turns out that as a result, they are actually pretty poor at coming up with new things. Autistic people in particular tend to try to solve things without relying on how things have always been done. This results in innovations that improve the material conditions of everyone in the tribe, and which everyone else dutifully copies. As a result, there is a balance between stable copiers and unstable innovators that keeps human populations on the edge of order and chaos, known as criticality. This is in fact the most creative space a self-organizing network process can be in.

Presently there is not a lot of acceptance of neurodiversity, at least not in the U.S. There is some anecdotal appreciation of a few people who people think may be on the spectrum, but these people are typically seen as outliers rather than a healthy part of our social networks. So much emphasis is put on everyone being the same and acting the same and thinking the same (lip service to “thinking outside the box” notwithstanding) that people who are in fact different in the ways they think and act and experience the world are held in contempt.

In fact, it is this contempt in which we on the spectrum are generally held that I try to focus on many of the positive aspects of being on the spectrum. We need to have healthier attitudes toward neurodiversity precisely because groups that don’t have such diversity stagnate at best. And really, nature abhors stagnation, meaning there is either growth or death. Dynamic tensions create growth; eliminating those tensions results in equilibrium, or death. A healthy society is a diverse society.

Shakespeare and Autism

There is a new autism therapy based on the works of Shakespeare called the Hunter Heartbeat Method. The initial results seem extremely promising in improving socialization skills. The theater games all make a great deal of sense to me, at least. Even better, from my perspective, is that theater and, especially Shakespeare, the greatest of all playwrights, is being used to help socialize us. Who better to teach us how to be human all too human?