I recently put up a link on social media to an article published a while back on “making room for autism” in engineering, and it seemed to get a lot of engagement. It’s the kind of thing which seems like an obviously good idea and, at a glance, suggests an obvious case of unfairness, as only 15% of adult autists are in employment. I would struggle to name another group with such poor employment prospects, never mind imagine what would happen in a situation analogous to that of the play “Music” recently, which cast no autistic actors in a play about autists, if it were another group seemingly subject to discrimination.
Why do I write “seemingly subject to discrimination”? It’s because it does not necessarily follow that if a group is underrepresented, it is because of prejudice. If that were true, there would of course be uproar about the underrepresentation of men in the nursing and veterinary medicine professions, wouldn’t there? So are we (I’m an autist, as is my son and lots of my family) being discriminated against? Is that why only 15% of us are employed? Are we as a group a massive wasted resource? Does the world need fixing so that we are on a level playing field with the “neurotypical”? Would this result in employment rates equal to that of the general population? Is that what would be “fair”?
As with so much in today’s world, there are polarised viewpoints. The “neurodiversity” movement (mainly the self-advocacy of a subset of autists) promotes an idea of autism in general as simply being a different way to be. Then there is the viewpoint of many parents of kids with autism, and most autism charities. For many of them, autism is viewed as a disability, sometimes a profound one. There are high-profile autists like Temple Grandin who come across as rather closer to this second school of thought than the first.
Those who see all autism as a profound disability naturally hope for a cure, or at least a beneficial treatment. As someone who lives with the condition, as well as one of those parents, I can see where they are coming from. Even “high-functioning autism” means living in a world of beings who look like me but see things in an utterly different way, communicate in a language which will always be foreign to me, and consistently misunderstand me, (other than in technical communication) even though the meaning of my words is actually entirely unambiguous. At best, it’s hard work. I have some idea of what my son has ahead of him.
Those on the other hand who see autism as simply a difference, and possibly even a superpower (as that Doctor Asperger you might have heard of did to some extent, despite being a bit of a Nazi, and referring to us as “autistic psychopaths”) also have a point to some extent. A subset of above-average-intelligence “high functioning autists” can take advantage of the narrow focus which their individual version of autism gives them to become technical authorities in their specialist area. This is the path I have taken, as has Temple Grandin. My experience suggests academic engineering is home to many like us.
So, as usual both sets of extremists are kind of right and kind of wrong, and in the usual way, the difficulty lies in blanket classification. As they say, when you have met one autist, you have met one autist. A lot of high functioning and intelligent (especially female) autists go undiagnosed because they learn to pass for “normal”, even to themselves. On the other hand, there are people on the spectrum who will never be able to live independently. As with all minorities, those who can avoid “scaring the straights” (as they say in Ghostbusters) are going to find it a lot easier to get a job.
When I was a kid, you didn’t get diagnosed with autism if you had an IQ over 80, so I was only diagnosed as an adult. I have had to learn to fit in to “normal society”. I’m sure I’m thought of as slightly socially unskilled, but people are willing to overlook that because they hire me to solve problems, rather than chat. Seeing through the socially fabricated world to the facts can be very useful in what I do.
So for those of us lucky enough to possess merely a ‘hidden’ disability, engineering can be a very accommodating choice of career. But to suggest that engineering is an appropriate career for the full autistic spectrum is arguably less realistic than suggesting it’s the right career for the entire population.
