Sunday, October 28, 2012

Some Thoughts on Empathy


A few weeks ago a friend asked me some questions about Asperger's and specifically brought up the topic of 'empathy.' Specifically it dealt with the widespread misconception that people with Asperger's and autism are incapable of empathizing. To put it nicely, this is a gross over-generalization. After letting my friend's question percolate, I barfed out this collection of thoughts I've had on the topic. I'll shape them into a proper chapter for my book at some point. For now, I feel it's important to share, especially since it's been a big talking point in the autism community lately that autistics feel that their feelings are largely ignored and disregarded by the neurotypical professionals and researchers that work in the field of autism therapy.

The trouble with empathy is that it’s so-called expert practitioners take the skill so much for granted that they are pretty cavalier about judging other people’s deficiencies or perceived lack thereof.
They seem to think that empathy is a simple, straight-forward thing and you either have it or you’re irrevocably broken. They tend to overlook the fact that empathy is actually a complex and multifaceted group of abilities, each with its own range of proficiency within the so-called normal, or neurotypical population. And yet, it is accepted as common knowledge that women tend to be more emotionally sensitive than men. Without even seeing that this one gross generalization acknowledges that there exists an accepted normal range of empathy, they are quick to make judgments about what lack of empathy means.

This was one of my own big questions when I was looking at myself. I felt like I didn’t lack empathy, because I could appreciate that others had emotions. I've long felt that those emotions are important, and that honoring others’ emotions (when I recognize them) and taking them into account in my interactions was a valuable skill that I possessed.

 In order to figure out what empathy really is, and what it really means to other people, I had to do a lot of thinking and reading and observation before I started to get a good sense of the several different skill sets that come together into this one thing that people call empathy. In working with special education populations, which very much became a vehicle for self knowledge, I got experience not only working with kids on autism spectrum, but with students in emotionally disturbed (E.D.) classrooms. I also reflected on people I’ve known in my life who were bipolar. And I looked at myself in ways I never had before.

I’m going to give a quick outline of the key, big deal things about empathy I’ve figured out. This will obviously have to get expanded into a whole chapter.

1) Recognizing facial expressions and other non-verbal communication. For various reasons, some people do not pick up the subtext of a lot of subtle body language. There is the common aversion to looking people in the eye (I had to train myself to work harder at this, beginning in high school with a sudden awareness that I was walking around with my head bent toward the ground all the time, and that might look weird. Some advice in something I read, it might even have been Wolverine in an X-Men comic but I don’t remember for sure, got the message through that looking people in the eye was important. I often fake it by looking at people’s glasses, or eyebrows, or chins). If it’s hard to look at someone’s face, it follows that you’re going to miss some subtle facial expressions that indicate emotion. And it’s confusing for the other person, because they are accustomed to these non-verbal cues being picked up. They tend to assume that you don’t care about their feelings, when you don’t notice the cues.

2) Expressing emotions. Often, because of varying factors, someone with ASD or Asperger’s won’t display the expected body language that accompanies emotions. I have had a few moments where someone’s commented on me having a flat affect, or not properly responding to bad news. Or just being confusing. The truth is, I do try to keep up a neutral expression a lot of the time, because, otherwise, I would be expressing discomfort and agitation almost constantly. Also, sometimes my emotional responses have to do with something deep inside that isn’t obvious to others. I get in trouble with my daughter because, sometimes when she’s working so hard at something that she’s at the point of total frustration, but she’s pushing on anyway, I’m so proud of her that I can’t help but chuckle. Then she gets mad at me for laughing at her when she’s having a hard time. Poor kid. I’m working on that one.

3) Perceiving emotions vs interpreting them. I think people with Asperger’s and ASD perceive a lot more emotional information than they credit for. I would say that most are really good at picking up fear. They might not always know how to respond, but when people around them express fear, or anger, it can escalate negative behavior. And I’m talking about the entire spectrum from non-verbal to math genius. They obviously pick up on those emotions, so saying that they can’t because they don’t have empathy is bullshit.

4) Emotional information in the face of all other information. One of the issues with having a neurodiverse brain is that incoming information is processed differently. Some of the filters neurotypicals have aren’t in place for the neurodiverse. Where a neurotypical can quickly hone in on the social and emotional information in a situation, someone with Asperger’s might be having trouble filtering out visual, aural, and sensory stimulus of all kinds. The emotional information coming in can often be lost in the flood of everything else, while neurotypicals are apt at tuning in on the emotional.

5) Mirror neurons.  There are these things in the brain called mirror neurons. They respond to what someone sees other people doing. If someone smiles the other person automatically smiles back. If someone is seen to be crying, the observer feels a little sad as well. It probably also has something to do with why yawns are contagious. It’s a big part of empathic reactions, but I also think it’s a big part of creepy crowd behavior and peer pressure. Mirror neurons don’t respond as strongly in AS brains. This is part of why I hate pep assemblies.

6) Sociopathic lack of empathy versus autistic lack of empathy—two absolutely different phenomena. One of the English teachers I observed, when I was going through my teacher certification program, taught literature from a psychological perspective. She was having her students analyze characters for traits that might indicate they are sociopaths. The terms sociopath and psychopath are pretty interchangeable and mostly indicate where you are in terms of the nature vs. nurture debate. One of the attributes of the psychopath/sociopath is labeled a lack of empathy. In the case of the psychopath/sociopath this means that the person understands the feelings of others, but doesn’t care. They can be master manipulators, con artists and leaders of industry (the percentage of CEOs who test as psychopaths is higher than the percentage in normal population as reported in the book The Psychopath Test). The psychopath, however, understands exactly what kind of emotional responses they are creating in other people, and they understand how to mimic expressions of the emotions they want to manipulate others with. They’re driving it. When lack of empathy is being used in description of someone with autism or Asperger’s, it’s in the context of the ASD person not understanding what the emotions of another person are, not responding to another person’s emotions appropriately, and being unaware of how their actions affect the emotions of others. Obviously these are two very different kinds of lack in empathy. Having worked in ASD classes and in ED classes, I can safely say I’ve worked with both autistics and psychopaths. Totally different worlds. And yet, they get this same, imprecise description of lack of empathy applied to them.

7) Personally, I started looking at my own empathy quirks pretty seriously. Most of the time, I really do care about other people’s feelings. I don’t want to upset other people. I try to be agreeable, helpful, and dependable, because people appreciate that. I’d like to think that counts. For a while, when I was misdiagnosed with depression (a doctor thought I was depressed because I wasn’t having an expected emotional response to bad news) I was put on Prozac. Prozac made it so I absolutely didn’t give a shit about anybody else’s feelings. I didn’t like being like that, so I stopped talking the drug. I have trouble figuring out when someone’s being nice to be nice, being nice to get something out of me, or are romantically interested. It all kind of feels the same, and I’ll rapidly cycle between the possibilities until I’m hit over the head with which one it really is. Arguments based on purely emotional appeals don’t hold much traction with me. Manipulative people just confuse me. They tend to switch tactics trying to find the right emotional button to push that will get me to agree with them, but to me is just seems like they are talking in circles and contradicting themselves. I’ve learned to smile and nod and try to be as diplomatic as possible. Usually the manipulator gives up and goes to bother someone else.  It’s only when the someone else talks to me about it later that I figure out what that confusing person was actually trying to do. I tend to pick sides in a conflict based on how I understand the facts, rather than how the people involved are connected to me. I’ve gotten in trouble for being disloyal because of this.

Basically, feelings are just as important to autistic people as they are to everyone else. There are some blocks to how feelings are communicated and shared, but we have them, and we do care about the feelings of the people in our lives. So, when neurotypical people and professionals tell us that our feelings don't count, or are a lesser kind than their own, the autistic people aren't the only ones who are having an empathy failure.

How Music Works

Just a quick little mention. I'm reading David Byrne's new book How Music Works.

As a kid in the 80s, I was aware that there was a band called the Talking Heads. I was also almost aware of the giant suit the front man wore, although I didn't really notice it was off-sized for gis feame. I also couldn't pick out many words beyond the refrain of any pf the songs I heard. (This actually applies to most songs for me... I have to sit down in a darkened room and repeat repeat repeat the song to try and hear the lyrics. Or just read the liner notes as the song plays.)

But David Byrne's voice and sound just struck me as being super cool. If I'd listened to much music then, I'd have listened to more of the Talikng Heads. Later on, I saw Byrne's movie, True Stories, and was delighted to see a film made in my own "language."

It was a delightful surprise to read in chapter 2 of How Music Works that David Byrne is a self-diagnosed Aspergian. Another fish swimming in the Shoals of Neurodiversity!

It's October 19th... Or is it?

This week has been a total wash. I'm not in my usual habitat, i.e. my apartment, so it's been really difficult to be productive. I'm taking care of something important, though, so I'm not going to complain.

However, the next time I do spend a week out of my natural habitat, I'm going to make a travel version of this system Autistifying My Habitat. In my normal habitat, I set up similar schedule boards for myself and was amazed at how motivated I was to do the dishes just so I could move over the velcro "dishes" tag to the completed column. Chores that usually pile up started happening. On a daily basis, even.

This week, however, I'm without my schedule and I've regressed to watching old episodes of Community on Hulu all day. It's partly research, because Abed is one of my pop culture Aspie heroes (along with Benedict Cumberbatch's Sherlock Holmes, Kenneth from Safety Not Guaranteed, and Jess from New Girl. Jess might be a debatable choice, but I'm keeping her because she seems like she'd be okay with dating an Aspie guy, and that's good enough for me at the moment).

I'm also kind of in turtle mode because an essay I wrote about Abed and how he's my Aspie hero was returned by a pretty big deal internet magazine. It wasn't a rejection, per say. In the response the editor said, "This is an interesting piece, but you should resubmit it for consideration when "Community" comes back on the air. I wouldn't run it right now, but I might then."

So, it was neither a rejection nor an acceptance. It was a deferral until such a time as NBC figures out what it's doing with my favorite TV show. They day before NBC announced that they were indefinitely delay the previously scheduled October 19th season 4 premiere.

I had originally planned to post my essay here today, contingent upon it being unequivocally rejected by other publishing entities. Unfortunately, thanks to NBCs noncommittal scheduling stunt, I have a very equivocal 'you should resubmit.' It's very fair for the editor to give me that kind of Magic 8-Ball response. Nobody knows anything about when Community is going to start, and it only makes sense to publish my essay if and when Community starts. NBC, on the other hand, is being very unfair about not letting me know when I can watch my show. I know I shouldn't take it personally, but, to be honest, I think I am. It's personal. NBC is breaking my heart.

The cast  and crew of Community, however, gave us this: 


The cast and crew of Community love me.

Happy October 19th, everyone. Whenever the hell that's going to be.

The Shoals of Neurodiversity

I used to have a blog at this very spot, but deleted all about ten months ago due to some serious introspection that needed to occur.

But it's time to start it up again.

The Shoals of Neurodiversity is the umbrella title for a project that I hope will become a book. I plan to share portions of it on this blog as it proceeds. I'm also trying to shop chapters around as essays to be included in other places. We'll see.

I'll put one up here soon. I have to give it enough time to properly assume it has been rejected by Salon.com. I know. Shoot for the stars, right?

What an awful preamble. I didn't even tell you what the project was about. Basically, it's about neurodiversity. Neurodiversity is a term that embraces a positive attitude toward people with Asperger's syndrome and other autism spectrum disorders. I also think that it's a wide enough term that it can embrace those who are a bit weird, but maybe not to the extent that they need an expensive diagnosis.

I like thinking about the shoals of neurodiversity because shoals is one of those neat words with multiple meanings. It can be the shallow bits near the shore of a large body of water. Bits that can be difficult to navigate a boat through but, at the same time, quite easy to wade in. The other meaning is similar to a school of fish, although I think schools may be homogeneous groups, while shoals are more heterogeneous with a large variety of fishes existing in the same area. 

I could be wrong. I grew up in a desert.

Either way, to me the Shoals of Neurodiversity represents the teeming masses (somewhere between 1 and 10 percent of the population, depending on which studies you read) of people who are on the autism spectrum or very near to it. It also represents can be a swath of the human experience that can be difficult to navigate, but not impossible to comfortably wade in.

My main point in this project is to emphasize that, despite how much the neurotypical (non-autistic) mainstream might like to otherize us, we are, and always have been present in the fabric of humanity. We belong. We help shape the world. We don't want to be cast out, neglected, or judged as lesser because we aren't as adept at negotiating the social structures of the neurotypical world.

It is my hope that this project will be helpful to everyone.