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The dark side of the ‘autistic historical figure’

Kate Norrish

By Kate Norrish Staff Writer Hey, here are some historical figures who YOU didn’t know were autistic. According to The BBC, Isaac Newton struggled to be social, had few facial expressions, and had such an intense interest in his work that it may have been a hyperfixation! He also once tried to jam a needle into his eyeball, which, according to the website Applied Behavioral Analysis, was a sign that self harm can lead to great discoveries. Maximilien Robespierre also had few facial expressions, moved his hands in a rhythmic way, and may have attempted suicide, like many autistic people! He was even framed for terrorism and killed, with that behavior cited as a reason, according to “Robespierre: A Revolutionary Life” by Peter McPhee. And, of course, Emily Dickinson had such severe social anxiety starting out of nowhere in her mid-20s that she struggled even to answer the doorbell, according to The Emily Dickinson Museum. But that just gave her more time to focus on her work! I tell you this not because I think we shouldn’t speculate on historical figures’ neurotypes. In fact, I believe that by not acknowledging signs of autism when there is evidence leads to the assumption that autism did not exist before 1945. I tell you this because we do not talk about these figures’ autistic traits beyond a form of inspiration, ignoring the more difficult parts of their lives. The autistic savant stereotype has been used to justify many harmful behaviors toward autistic people. “What’s your special talent?” has become such a common response to “I’m autistic,” that it’s become an in-joke in the neurodiverse community, and the idea of the savant has been used to perpetuate the low versus high functioning labels - something conceived by Nazi scientist Hans Asperger as a method of who to kill, and is used to deny autistic people agency to this day, according to Time Magazine. In my experience, savant jokes are a form of gallows humor. I have often felt that I needed to do something great with my life to deserve to act autistic, and the romanticization of the autistic savant rarely bleeds into public impressions in a meaningful way. Despite being able to read at an adult level in the first grade, and growing up alongside autistic classmates with similar talents in physics and pencil sketching, it was never seen as more than a nuisance. I had teachers visibly annoyed with me for including analysis of symbols in a book report, and I distinctly remember my classmate having to erase a realistic sketch of his bare chest for a school assignment. When groups with a history of eugenics, such as ABA websites, make these lists, I also have to think - you celebrate the claim that we discovered gravity, led revolutions, and wrote canonized poetry, but you thank us through abuse and “correcting” autistic behavior? And, to these lists, if these low support needs, well off, white people struggled so much to live without abuse and self harm, then what chance did the rest of us have? I often feel a responsibility to care for the legacy of “autistic” historical figures, because it often seems like only other neurodiverse people are willing to acknowledge when we're in pain. Otherwise, the responses are typically, “sometimes autistic people just do that,” or, “at least we have their work.” I think we need to use how figures such as Newton, Robespierre, and Dickinson behaved and were treated to study what biases people in history may have had against autistic traits when there was little to no knowledge that different neurotypes exist, regardless whether or not we choose to view them as neurodiverse. We should acknowledge that no one was ever born for the purpose of doing something historical. Isaac Newton played a prank on his neighbors as a kid, according to World History Encyclopedia, Robespierre often read to his family members before bed, according to “Robespierre, A Revolutionary Life,” and Dickinson won several bread making prizes at local cattle fairs, according to The Emily Dickinson Museum. These too are worth celebrating.

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