Tag Archives: Stereotypes

Blind People Should

A few years back, there was a flash blog event that had autistic bloggers all finish the sentence “Autistic people should …”. I think the reason was to counter the hurtful search suggestions that Google made when people typed in “autistic people should”. I was reminded of this event when I read this weeks #theprompt, which is “should”.

I was also reminded of my own preconceived ideas about what disabled people should. A few days ago, I wrote to a disability support group on Facebook about feeling like I was setting a bad example for the disability community because I don’t work and spent years in an instituton. Shouldn’t I have to explain why I can’t work or live fully independently? The short answer is: no.

I was feeling like I should have a disability label to justify my every need because of what I learned whilst being part of E-mail groups run by the National Federation of the Blind, one of the two major organizations of the blind in the United States. This was in the early 2000s, mostly before I’d been diagnosed with autism. What I learned was that blind people, unless they have severe additional disabilities, which I’ll address later, should be able to achieve as much as sighted people do. For example, we should be able to read at the same speed, get around with a white cane completely independently, go to college (I think I picked up the term “college-bound” there), be employable, etc. I can’t do or be any of these things. Keeping the bar of expectations high was the motto of the parents’ organization of the NFB or so it seemed. I always imagined a candy bar put up on a star light years away and me being told to reach for the stars.

Sometimes, when people judged blind children or adults they only knew through newspaper articles not to be independent enough, someone would come up with the get-out-of-jail-free pass: “Maybe the person has additional disabilities?” This is a real possibility, since strangers usualy assume my every impairment is due to blindness despite my additional disabilities, so I assume newspaper reporters are no different. Yet does it matter? Should it? Apparently, sometimes.

In an old (like, late 1990s) issue of Future Reflections, the NFB’s magazine for parents of blind children, a blind adult reported his shame when he crticized parents of blind teenagers for not taking their teens to a seminar on independence. It turned out he was speaking to a roomful of parents of teens with multiple disabilities, so obviously they couldn’t bring their teens. I assume most of these teens had the type of disability that seems to have a monopoly on the term “multiple disabilities” when additional disabilities are involved: severe intellectual disability. After all, when I played the additional disabilities card after my autism diagnosis in 2007, I was told to look up Temple Grandin.

I may sound bitter and I shouldn’t be. After all, I do get the services I need now, even though they cater to, well, people with severe intellectual disabilities. That being said, I know I’m incredibly privileged now to have found my particular care agency, because most others would try to fit me into the mentally ill mold or the blindness mold or any other not-completely-fitting mold rather than looking at my needs.

This all brings me to my point, which is that blind people, autistic people, any kind of disabled people, any kind of people in fact, should not have to justify their needs. We are all human and all different, after all.

mumturnedmom

Blindness Isn’t Black or White

The Foundation Fighting Blindness has launched acontroversial campaign encouraging sighted people to blindfold themselves for a short time to see what it’s like to be blind. Most blind people I know are vehemently opposed to this idea. I am no exception. It’s however not because simulation is wrong by definition.

First, simulating disability is often seen as fundamentally wrong by the disabled. The reason is that you don’t know what it’s like to live your entire life or the rest of your life with a disability by putting on a blindfold, sitting in a wheelchair or trying out other disability simulations. You will be able to take off your simulated disability when you’re done with it, after all.

Though I mostly agree with this, I can see how simulation can be useful for relatives of someone with a disability to learn to understand the alternative ways in which the disabled accomplish everyday tasks. They will also experience, though to a lesser degree, the obstacles people with disabilities encounter as they use these alternative techniques. For example, when I was at my country’s blindness rehabilitation center in 2005, my parents tried to put jelly on a slice of bread while blindfolded. My mother and I made a mess, while my father didn’t. Then again, he noticed as he took off his blindfold that he’d placed the can of jelly, the butter, the bread etc. all around his own plate. In a similar way, sitting in a wheelchair can help able-bodied people understand the need for ramps.

However, by experiencing “disability” for a short while, you will not experience the systemic societal oppression that comes with being in the minority position of being disabled. You will not experience the psychological and social impacts of disability. You will not have time to adjust, but then again, you won’t need to have time to adjust.

Another problem specifically with blindfolding to see what it’s like to be blind, is that blindness comes in many forms. (I’m sure there are analogous explanations of this for other disabilities. For example, most wheelchair users can walk a short distance. However, since blindness is what I know best, I’ll go with that.) Blindness, in other words, isn’t black-or-white. Only a small percentage of people who are blind have always been totally blind (with no light perception) or went totally blind (with no light perception) in an instant at one point in their lives.

Most people have at least some viison, whether that be useful or not. Many people who say they are totally blind, in fact have light perception only. Light perception is the ability to tell whether it’s dark or light. In its most limited form, it is the ability to tell the difference between daylight and nighttime. Light projection is the ability to tell where the light comes from, such as where there are windows in a room. Since both light perception and light projection are measured with the eye doctor’s flashlight, not large sources of light like windows, it is possible to test as having light perception only when you really have some light projection. I am an example of this. When I went to the blindness rehabilitation center, they were initially informed by my doctor that I am totally blind, since in the doctor’s opinion I had no functional vision. I have heard from many people who have experienced true light perception only that indeed this would be the point at which they’d consider themselves completely funcitonally blind. However, this is the reason there’s a difference between functional vision and vision as measured by an ophthalmologist.

However, I always say that I am “blind.” This led to a particularly frustrating experience one time in 2010 or 2011, when I had to undergo oral surgery. One of the doctors or assistants said that I didn’t need a sheet over my eyes because I’m blind anyway. Guess what? Even those with the most limited forms of light perception can be bothered by a bright dentist’s light shining right into their eyes.

Then I didn’t even mention people who are judged to be functionally blind but who do have some very limited but useable vision. I was in this group from age eight till age eighteen. I had very limited color, form and object perception, but my parents and even psychologists working with the blind said I needed to accept the fact that I am blind. Maybe I wouldn’t have had that much trouble with it had they not constantly suggested that blind meant no useable vision. Visual techniques may not be the most efficient in many situations, but that doesn’t mean the vision isn’t there.

Career Aspirations

I have been feeling rather uninspired in the blogging department lately. It couldb e the lingerng effects of #Write31Days, the fact that my mind is too unquiet to write, or both. It could be something else entirely. I started to write a post earlier this evening, but deleted it after I went off on a tangent. The post was on my parents’ jobs and aspirations and how my aspirations growing up were different.

My mother worked in administration at a major science institute for 35 years. She started as a data entry assistant or something in 1977 and worked herself up to project management by the time she quit her job in 2011. When she started working for this institute, she had just earned a low-level high school diploma through adult education at the age of 22. She has regretted her entire life that she never got any more education. In spite of this, she worked herself up to a well-paying position where all of her colleagues had college degrees.

My father dropped out of college sometime in the 1970s. He was a physics major for years, but never got beyond the foundation (first-year) certificate, although he did work as a student assistant for a while. After leaving the university, my father worked various jobs and then was a homemaker for years, doing all sorts of community service while caring for my sister and me. It was through a volunteer job at my high school that he found employment in 2000: he was doing computer maintenance on a voluntary basis and got more and more tasks, until he eventually said he was willing to continue his job provided he got paid. He worked as a system administrator for ten years until he too quit his job.

My parents had gone on a very different path through education and employment. My mother was hard-working, always looking to make up for her lack of formal education. My father was more laid-back. Nonetheless, when I spoke to my parents about my own education and my parents’ decisions regarding it, they assured me they had always been on the same page, expecting me to reach my full academic potential.

I never had a good understanding of my mother’s job. In 2006, when I was myself in college, we had to interview someone about their job for communication skills. I assume I did a lousy job at the interview, because I still hardly have a clue what my mother’s project management duties entailed. With regard to my father’s job, I had a greater understanding, but still I find it hard to explain what he did except for fixing my computer when it was broken.

Consequently, I never aspired to become like my parents in terms of employment. I never understood why someone wanted to work in administration and, by the time my father got his job, I had already figured out I didn’t want to work in computers either. The reason I probably never aspired to get one of my parents’ jobs, however, is probably that neither did they. I don’t think that, growing up, my mother wanted to work in administration and computers didn’t exist when my father grew up. My parents are a great example of what my high school student counselor once said: hardly anyone ultimately gets the job they envisioned for themselves at the end of high school. A possible exception are those growing up among generations and generations of doctors or lawyers, and these are not a small group among the students of my high-level high school. However, in today’s era of flexibility in employment, very few people get to become exactly what they aspired to be thirty years on.

I probably already blogged about my childhood aspirations. Like many girls, I gravitated more towards working with people than objects. This turns out to be a common distinction between girls and boys on the autism spectrum, too. While autistic girls, being autistic, do not have good people skills, they do generally have more people-focused (special) interests than do boys.

I suppressed my interest in people-focused jobs for years. This had to do with my being aware of my lack of social skills, but also with the fact that both of my parents gravitate more towards objects than people. Both have a strong dislike for people in the “helping professions”. This could’ve been parlty learned, because the “helping professionas” weren’t all that helpful when I was growing up. However, I learned in school that children develop a preference for people vs. objects early on and this is a strong determiner of later career choices. Like I said, a common misconception about autism is that autistics naturally gravitate more towards objects than people. This is not necessarily true, particularly in autistic girls. Although my parents, both with some autistic traits, fit the stereotype, I do not.

Hurricane #WotW

Yesterday, I bought the book Women and Girls with Autism Spectrum Disorder by Sarah Hendrickx. I have been on the verge of crying as I read it. Hendrickx starts the book by recounting her meeting with her son’s autism diagnostician, whom she tells that she herself has autism too. The doctor doesn’t believe her, because she can hold down a two-way conversation. Wham! I heard that exact same stereotype countless times before. Hendrickx replied that maybe it’s because she’s an adult and a woman.

Last Wednesday, I was trying to communicate the mind-blowing chaos of thoughts and emotions and sensations in my head that is casuing me to have great difficulty functioning. I’ve tried to communicate this ever since I entered the mental health system in 2007, but it doesn’t seem like this is of any importance to my staff or treatment team. My psychologist put it down as rumination in an E-mail to the psychiatrist, because I asked for a med review. The “hurricane in my mind” led to a crisis yesterday. For whatever reason, a psychologist – one I hadn’t met before – was sent to talk to me today. Usually this means I’m in big trouble, but he didn’t threaten any consequences.

I’m not sure whether an unquiet mind is common with autism or whether it’s purely a borderline thing. I sense that it’s more to do with my autism, because it is not the content of my thoughts that is distressing, but the chaos the thoughts, emotions and sensations create. As such, it is particularly hard to communicate.

Unfortunately, my unit is not equipped to deal with autism and I appear to function too well to be getting autism-specialized support. The autism center’s entire recommendation was thrown into the bin by my psychologist and now I’m stuck being sent to a treatment team for personalty disorders. I won’t say I don’t have BPD too, but I also have autism and need support for this. Unfortunately, because I can hold down a two-way conversation, the team thinks I’m not all that autistic at all. Maybe that’s because I’m an adult and a woman.

After all, I was utterly incapable of holding down a two-way conversation even when in high school. As I’ve shared before, I am perhaps the opposite of the old DSM-IV autism criterion which says that autistics do not spontaneously share their feelings or interests. Hendrickx does point out that autistic girls may superficially appear quite sociable, but show self-centeredness on a deeper level. That’s exactly me.

But I don’t care about behavior, at least not anymore. Medication has sedated me enough that I don’t exhibit many troublesome behaviors anymore. Perhaps this means I can now come across relatively normal, but I don’t feel normal at all.

Another thing that’s annoying about this is people constantly attributing thought processes to me that aren’t there. For example, when I reacted with irritability at a psychotic man on my unit who constantly talks to his voices, I was told that I should try to imagine what it’d be like to hear voices all the time. I can’t imagine what that’s like, though I do understand it must be very distressing, but my irritability was not out of anger with this guy. It was just that I was utterly overwhelmed. And just so you know: thinking that the hurricane in my mind is just a breeze, doesn’t make it disappear.

Due to the stress of making arrangements for moving to the tiny village, the hurricane, the chaos in my mind, has been particularly strong this week. Therefore, I choose “hurricane” as my word of the week.

The Reading Residence

Women and Girls with Autism #AtoZChallenge

Welcome to day 23 in the A to Z Challenge on autism. Today, I discuss autism as it maniffests itself differently depending on the autistic person’s gender. I particularly focus on women and girls with autism. IN tomorrow’s post, I will discuss autism as extreme male behavior.

It used to be thought that autism, and Asperger’s Syndrome in particular, is far more common in males than in females. Four to even eight times as many boys were thought to have Asperger’s than girls. In recent years however, there has been more attention paid to the ways in which autism spectrum disorders manifest themselves differently in girls and women.

There is little scientific research focused specificaly on females with autism. However, anecdotal evidence suggests that females with autism display the following characteristics, which differ from males with autism:


  • Better social imitation skills.

  • A desire to interact directly with people.

  • Shyness or passivity as opposed to being active but odd.

  • Better imagination.

  • Better language development.

  • (Special) interests focused on animals or people rather than objects.

Stereotypes about what is considered typical male or female behavior commonly hinder the diagnosis of females with autism. For example, characteristics such as shyness and oversensitivity are often seen as typical female characteristics rather than signs of an autism spectrum disorder. Another example is a girl who plays with dolls and is hence thought to display appropriate pretend play. On closer observation though, it is found that she plays with the dolls stereotypically.

Girls and women with autism usually also develop inventive strategies to hide their autistic tendencies. This often leads them to burn out or get depressed, which is then seen as the reason for their inability to cope rather than a consequence. There is finally also a bias towards diagnosing certain disorders in certain genders. As a result, many women with autism or ADHD end up with a diagnosis of for example borderline personality disorder because of their hypersensitivity.

Fortunately, authors like Rudy Simone (author of AsperGirls) internationally and Henny Struik in the Netherlands have raised increasing awareness of the fact that women too can be autistic and that their behavioral characteristics often differ from those in men with autism. I was honored to have been quoted (only a few lines) in Henny Struik’s book and I love AsperGirls. I hope that books like these will reach health professionals and researchers so that diagnostic tests for autism are adapted to meet the specific challenges of diagnosing females.

Five Things People Usually Won’t Understand About Life with Multiple Disabilities

Julie of Counting My Spoons just posted a list of six things healthy people just won’t understand about life with chronic illness or pain. I didn’t know the first one – that migraine sufferers just can’t take their medication at the first hint of a migraine -, because I don’t have migraines, but I could relate to the others. I feel somewhat guilty about that, because I don’t have a diagnosed chronic illness, except for possible irritable bowel syndrome, which causes the least bothersome of my symptoms.

I do have multiple disabilities, and I thought I’d do a similar list of things people who don’t have these disabilities won’t understand. These all seem to boil down to “we are individuals”, but for some reason, this is extremely hard for the non-disabled to understand.

1. We can’t just choose one of our disabilities and get services for that and then be fine. Seriously, why do you think it’s called having multiple disabilities? My social worker once asked me which is my most significant disability, so that we would find a supported housing agency suited to that. I know, that’s how the system works, but quite frankly, it’s nonsensical.

2. We’re still multiply-dsabled even if we don’t have an intellectual disability. It’s a common idea that “multiply-disabled” means intellectually disabled plus something. In reality, those who are blind and autistic like myself, those who are deaf and wheelchair-using, etc., may still identify as multiply-disabled. I identify as multiply-disabled partly to dismantle the myth that only those with an intellectual disability struggle with “additional needs” as it’s politically correctly called.

3. You can’t just take apart our needs in terms of which needs are due to disability A, which are due to disability B, etc. and then have a complete picture of our needs. For one thing, some disabilities cause a variety of impairments in many different areas and cause different impairments for different people. For another, disabilities influence each other. For example, I am blind, so you’d think I could be using my hearing to compensate. In reality, because of my difficulty filtering out background noise, I can’t. This is somewhat understood by people working with the deafblind, but if you have other disabilities, not so. In general, however, not all our needs may be explainable by a disability we’ve been diagnosed with. I remember at one point when I was at the locked psychiatric ward a man was there who had a vision and hearing loss in addition to his psychiatric illness. A nurse told him that he had to clean up the table after eating, because “he’s doubly-disabled but not triply-disabled”. Now I’m not saying that multiply-disabled people should be exempt from doing chores. I’m just saying that his apparent unwillingness to do the task might as well be inability, regardless of whether this is thought to be “normal” for a person with his particular combination of disabilities. (FYI: I consider mental illness a disability, so in that respect the man was triply-disabled, but in the psychiatric nursing profession, it’s usually not seen this way.)

4. Mild, partial or invisible disabilities contribute to our constellation of needs too. This isn’t applicable to me, because I have a visible disability, but it was applicable to some extent to the man at the locked ward I menitoned abov. He was partially sighted and hard-of-hearing, so because of his remaining sight, he was expected to do tasks I was exempt from. As I said, disabilities influence each other, so it may’ve been that he was in some areas more impaired than I am, but because all of his disabilities were partial, he was often regarded as more or less non-disabled.

5. We have absolutely no obligation to have an explanation for our every experience that is out of the ordinary. You have strengths and weaknesses too, so do we. I’ve often felt like I needed to have a diagnosis to explain my every difference. In reality, I’m an individual with my own sense of self, my own interests, my own stronger and weaker sides. Like I said above, our disabilities influence each other, but so do our personality traits. I am not the sum of my disabilities. I am myself.

“All Kids Do That.”

Kiddo’s Mom over at Autism with a Side of Fries wrote an interesting post titled “All Kids Do That”. The comment that “all kids” do something, is meant to reassure parents of disabled children, or disabled children themselves, that they aren’t all that different. I remember when I was around eighteen, my parents told me that 99% of my schoolmates had the exact same problems I did. I wasn’t different, except for being above-average intelligent (which, given that I went to grammar school, 99% of my schoolmates were, too). And oh sure, I was blind. Maybe that, or my reaction to it, explained all my oddities. Or maybe not.

The thing is, it doesn’t help a parent to hear that they shouldn’t worry about something they know is not typical. It doesn’t help a disabled teen, either. Of course, everyone has some quirks, but most likely you do not know that the disabled child whom or whose parents you try to reassure has many more problems than the behavior you’re currently seeing.

Also, you do not realize how much effort it takes for a disabled child to appear more or less typical. As Kiddo’s Mom says, it took lots of therapy for her son to be able to eat properly, swim or sing. Hopefully, Kiddo’s Mom delights in these results, but it isn’t your job as a stranger to callously assume Kiddo isn’t “really” autistic (or not “that severely autistic”) because he acts so appropriately. Kiddo’s Mom likely doesn’t even realize how much effort Kiddo pours into it, as my parents or staff don’t realize this in my case. Certainly you, being the family friend or relative, or even a complete stranger, do not know.

It is easy to assume that a disabled person isn’t “really” disabled, or isn’t as disabled as they or their parents claim to be, by observing a single behavior. I’ve been told countless times that I should stop posting about my self-care difficulties and meltdowns because I’m not like the commenter’s child, simply because I can write. Sure, there are difficulties that aren’t due to my disabilities at all. My inability to come up with some words in English is more attributable to my being a non-native than to any of my disabilities, and even native speakers of English sometimes have trouble coming up with words.

A disabled person is a person, too. Like Kiddo’s Mom says, sometimes parents of typical kids are slightly shocked when she says Kiddo does something their kids do, too. The underlying assumption is tht a disabled child’s every behavior should be related to their disability. In reality, it isn’t. I am disabled, but I am more than my disabilities. Just because “all kids do that”, doesn’t make me non-disabled, and just because I do something your typical relative does too, doesn’t mean they’re acting like a disabled person.

Pink Is a Color

There’s a lot of pooha against girls wearing pink lately. Apparently, dressing girls in pink is limiting their future success. Blimey. As the author of Parenting Highs and Lows says, pink is a color. No feminist in their right mind would say that having black skin limits people’s future success, even though in our still pretty racist society, it does. And I know you can change what clothes you wear and not what color your skin is, but so what?

In my opinion, firstly, this is holding girls and women accoutnable for the stereotypes created by society. When I was still active in feminist circles, I learned that making the minority feel responsible for defeating society’s steretotypes, is discrimination. Besides, if girls should not wear pink because it limits their future success, this is only perpetuating the idea that girls wearing pink should not be successful. This is ultimately counterproductive.

I haven’t even touched on what it is that girls are being unsuccessful in when they’ve been wearing pink. It is said to be limiting their careers. As if the only successful women are those who have a career outside the home. This is the mostly male, White, able-bodied society’s norm of success, and women’s rights include the right not to conform to this norm. The so-called feminists who are encouraging people to stop dressing girls in pink because it limits their ability to conform to the societal notion of success, are merely perpetuating the stereotypes they’re meaning to defeat.

Now I for one am not a big fan of pink. I never quite liked the color. I also do not agree with the idea that girls should wear pink, or that real girls or boys wear any color or even sort of clothes in particular. That’s stereotypical. People of any gender should be allowed to wear whatever they want, and if that is perceived to limit their ability to do whatever they want in life, that’s discrimination. Blaming the person being discriminated against, is allowing the discrimination to continue.

The Realities of an Asperger’s Diagnosis

A few weeks ago, I read an article in a women’s magazine about autism. It started out by explaining that autism is a spectrum and then went on to say that Asperger’s Syndrome is the mildest form of autism. Someone sent in a response saying that Asperger’s can be severely disabling too and, because it is often misunderstood, may be more severe in some ways than classic autism.

I have an Asperger’s diagnosis. I also have a high IQ. I can attest to the common misconcetpions surrounding an Asperger’s diagnosis. For one thing, the ability to speak does not necessarily mean that someone can communicate effectively. Even if speech on the surface makes sense, that doesn’t mean the Aspie’s words come out of their mouth as they were intended. However, because we have normal to above-normal intelligence, we’re assumed to “know better” and our miscommunicatin is understood to be willful misbehavior.

Speaking of behavior, it is a common misconception that Aspies don’t have as severe or as frequent aggressive or self-harming outbursts as those with classic or “low-functioning” autism do. H.L. Doherty, a father of a child with classic autism and an intellectual disability, often makes this mistake. He does so again when he talks about shards of severe autism reality. In this post, Doherty describes the consequencces of his son’s self-injurious meltdowns, and accuses autistic advocates of ignoring this reality. He connotes that those with “high-functioning” autism, ie those who can disagree with Doherty on the Internet, do not have these experiences. I, for one, do.

When I still lived in independence training, I had meltdowns almost everyday. An experience like the one Doherty describes is quite familiar to me and occurred regularly until I went on medication in 2010. My last episode of severe self-injury was two months ago, and it was so scary that I went into seclusion for a night.

Now I for one agree with Doherty on some controversies. I disagree on others. My agreeing or disagreeing and how eloquently I can put this into writing, does not change anything about my functioning level in any other area than written communication about a specific topic. I am too ashamed to write about some of my Aspie realities. The details of my severe self-care difficulties, for example. I know that Doherty and his supporters would not believe me anyway. After all, I’m so intelligent. Yes, I am. Relative intelligence is required for an Asperger’s diagnosis. That does not cause any of my difficulties to go away.

Mass Murder and Autism: I’m Not Impressed

Today, I came across a post on why the new DSM-5 definition of autism may actually be good. In it, the author talked about an apparent mass murder and the associated speculation of the killer having Asperger’s Syndrome. I googled, hoping to find out which mass murder she was writing about, but instead came across a Washington Post article which claimed a “significant” link beteeen mass murder and autism. I read the original study (Allely et al., 2014) on which this article was based, and I’m not impressed.

First, the actual question the authors aim to answer, is inverted. They research whether a significant number of mass or serial killers have autism and/or head injury. They found that this is so: roughly ten percent of the mass or serial killers the researchers read about, had suspected or diagnosed ASD, and a similar percentage had a possible or definite head injury. This may be significantly more than the prevalence of autism or head injury in the general population, but so what? The really important question is whether autistics or those who sustained head trauma are more likely to become serial killers. One thing I learned from Ton Dekrsen, author of Lucia de B., a book on the Dutch nurse falsely accused of serial murder on her patients, is that a statistical link that runs in one direction, doesn’t necessarily run in the other as well. Since serial or mass murders are rare, this is especially important.

Also please note that Allely et al. state that, of none of the six murderers (out of 239 total!) with “definite” autism, diagnostic data was available. “Probable” ASD also included a psychiatrist or psychologist having said the murderer had ASD. This raises suspicion, as psychologists and psychiatrists are not immune to media hyping wanting to label every murderer with the mental illness du jour. Dutch readers might remember psychiatrist Menno Oosterhoff accusing Volkert van der Graaf, who murdered politician Pim Fortuyn, of having Asperger’s in 2003. With no diagnostic data on any of the murderers with suspected or “definite” ASD, it is really speculative to even say that there is a one-directional link between mass murder and ASD. And don’t get me talking on the “possible” ASD people, who were simply described as “odd” or “loners” by their family members.

Allely et al. do say in their discussion that speculation about a link between autism and mass murder may lead to negative steretoypes. This of course is not a reason not to document it. If autistics are in fact more likely to be serial or mass murderers, there’s no reason not to write that into a research paper. The thing is, due to the rarity of serial and mass murders, this is unlikely to ever become truly apparent. And even if a definite link could be found, so what? I recently read in another book that, while there is a link between schizophrenia and violence, locking away all schizophrenics in England and Wales for the rest of their lives would save the lives of four potential murder victims each year.

Reference

Allely CS, Minnis H, Thompson L, Wilson P, and Gillberg C (2014), Neurodevelopmental and Psychosocial Risk Factors in Serial Killers and Mass Murderers. Aggression and Violent Behavior, 19(3)288-301. DOI: 10.1016/j.avb.2014.04.004.