Thoughts on the direction of autism research
Thoughts on the role of the Interagency Autism Coordinating
Committee, from an autistic person. Note
that the views in this essay are my personal opinions only, and not the views of the committee or any government agency.
One role of this committee (IACC) should be to serve as a
bridge between the autism community and the Federal agencies charged with
supporting that autistic people and their families. We started by identifying questions to be
answered and then reporting advances in autism research.
In the past three years a glaring hole has emerged.
From the beginning autism diagnosis and treatment focused on
children. Autistic behavior was first
characterized in children in the 1920s and 1930s. By 1943 clinicians had observed that autistic
symptoms were often present from the beginning of life. At the same time, regression had also been
observed in some kids.
By 1950 Leo Kanner, George Frankl, and others had recognized
the neurobiological basis of autism that most scientists accept today. As such, autism was recognized as a lifelong
condition. Kanner and other pioneers of
autism diagnosis would later take pride in following the development of some of
“their” autistic children into adulthood.
Sixty-some years have passed since autism was recognized as
a neurological difference. In that time
countless child therapies have been developed but virtually nothing has been
done for adults. In the modern era this
committee began with a focus on autism in children. It is just in the past few years that we’ve
begun to recognize adult needs.
Autism is unique in medicine, in that the support needs of
adults are different from those of children.
When we look at other lifelong medical conditions we see tools and
therapies that help across the lifespan.
For example, wheelchairs or artificial limbs are of the same use to
adults and children. In many cases,
medicines that help children also help adults.
That is sometimes true for autistic people too. Therapies that help us calm and self regulate
can help children and adults alike. But
adults have unique problems that children don’t share. Job coaching, for example. Recent research has shown that autistic
adults have many previously unknown health vulnerabilities, and little is known
of them. Finally, autistic children are
assumed to live with their parents.
Where are autistic adults supposed to live, when our parents are gone
and we are not able to remain self-supporting and independent?
Over the past decade, we have spent over a billion dollars
on autism research. While some of that
research will surely benefit families of tomorrow, very little of it will
benefit those of us living with autism today. It is my feeling that we should
divide our efforts and follow a two-pronged approach when we allocate research
funds for tomorrow.
We should continue our efforts to unravel the biological
foundations of autism. We’ve already
figured out that there are probably not one “autism” but rather hundreds or
thousands of “autisms” . . . different pathways to a similar set of observable
symptoms. That may lead to many
different treatments for the most disabling aspects of autism. I hope we also find ways to relieve the many
co-occurring conditions that plague autistic people and cause suffering and
early mortality.
At the same time, I believe we should devote a significant
portion of our research budget to develop tools that maximize the quality of
life for those of us living with autism now.
In other words, I think it’s great that we may find a drug
that helps relieve sensory overload for the autistic people of 2031. There’s still value in developing headphones
or quiet spaces to help the autistic people of 2018. We can do both, and we
should. The promise of a drug in 10
years is not what a person who suffers today wants to hear. It’s within our power to do both, by
following parallel paths – one long and the other short. One path may be medicine based, while the
other relies on electrical engineering.
That’s also an important point – we first saw autism as a
medical issue. Now it’s clear that
practical assistance for autistics may come from chemists, electrical
engineers, psychologists, computer scientists, and a host of other
professions. We need to bring those
people into our community, and into these processes.
We have – in my opinion – lost sight of our duty to the
American people. That duty is to deliver
tangible timely benefit to the autism community. By focusing on the long term, we have effectively
ignored the current plight of millions of Americans in the hope that “we will
solve this problem for the generation of tomorrow.” By focusing on medicine we have failed to
support technology based aids that could be delivering real value today.
I think this happened with the best of intentions. We first approached autism like smallpox or
polio – as a disease to be vanquished.
Why invest in developing supports for what was effectively a plague? Better we find a cure, or even better, a
vaccine to head it off before it begins.
That is the mindset most medical professionals brought to autism
research a decade ago. Few hold that
view today.
Today’s view is more nuanced. On the one hand, we see that environmental
exposures can precipitate maladaptive autistic development, and we seek to
identify those causes and head them off.
At the same time, we see others who inherit autistic differences, grow up
to be reasonably functional, and pass a form of autism on to their own
children. Then there are the people who
develop idiopathic autism – a disability with no known cause.
With such a heterogeneous population it should be clear that
the “disease conquest” model we started out with is not the answer for every
autistic. Yet that mindset continues to
guide our research. The overwhelming
majority of funding goes to basic research even as we recognize that there’s a
significant portion of the autistic population for which that work is probably
irrelevant. And their needs remain
unmet.
The first step is to accept that autism is not what doctors
thought it was, ten years ago. In fact
it’s not any one thing. It’s many
things. For each of those, we must ask –
are we seeking a cure, or a remediation of disability or suffering? And we should also ask, is there a short term
support or aid we can deploy while we pursue a greater long term goal?
The next step is to adjust our research goals with that in
mind.
We must balance our duty to help the population living with
autism today against the possibility of developing greater benefit for a future
autistic population. That means
recognizing and supporting autistic adults, throughout the lifespan. Autism is not a childhood issue that goes
away. It is a lifetime condition.
The opinions expressed here are his own. There is no warranty expressed or implied. While reading this essay may give you food for thought, actually printing and eating it may make you sick.
Comments
As part of the subgroup question, I will share that I am the pediatrician mother of an autistic son, and I see many similar characteristics in myself (pronounced algorithmic thinking and an initial focus on principles before people) but I do not score as autistic on any scale perhaps because I have very few sensory symptoms and also because I have adapted quite a bit socially over the years. Are these sensory symptoms really a sine qua non of autism or are they a closely linked phenomenon to a difference in thinking patterns? Are there other associated characteristics? Understanding these may help to identify more people who have adaptive issues and may allow us to better help them. It may also untangle the whole issue of different thinking patterns (which many autistic people treasure) vs truly disabling symptoms. Perhaps a post-hoc treatment or even a preventive fix may be found for those, without taking away some of the special abilities.
I would be very interested in your thoughts on this, should you have the time or inclination.
You are endlessly patient, Mr. Robison. I hope things go well at the meeting, and any move towards autism and away from "othering" has to be good. You are right to say that the medical model alone is not enough. Getting more educational input would be good. Most of my son's teachers were exceedingly kind. I think a push for so many kids who suffer from "learning disabilities" that make school hell would be good. It isn't all about their behavior...some of the problem is the lack of empathy towards kids who are treated as though they are crazy/lazy/stupid when they are doing the best they can, giving 110%. Accommodations for the blind aren't questioned...why do we question them for those who learn differently?
Oy...I don't know. I know you will be respected and represent all of us to the best of your quite able abilities.
My question is - In this era of diversity and inclusion, and people speaking up to raise awareness on a variety of issues - Do I basically "come out" professionally? I want to be a positive example, especially for my 8-year-old Aspie son who is really struggling right now. I want to make others aware that "quirky" (something I've been called my entire career) may mean something more and to understand. I also have some latent fears that freely talking about it will cast a professionally limiting pall on my career, that people will begin making assumptions about my actions and choices because they watched Rain Man last week.
Do you feel that someone who has reached a certain level of success who discovers they have a discernable (and often stereotyped) difference may have a near obligation to come forward and begin breaking stereotypes and helping awareness? I've taught my kids this - my teenaged daughter with OCD is a great mental health advocate (end the stigma and help people be unafraid to seek help!) and I'm telling my son that as an Aspie, he has a duty to show himself to his friends as a person with a condition rather than a person defined by his condition. So not being out front with my Asperger's is beginning to make me feel like a hypocrite.
Does anyone have any thoughts? Am I overthinking this, heh?
One way I have suggested that schools deal with my son's ASD is to describe specific areas of challenge for his peers, but not necessarily to give him a label. If you've seen one Aspie, you've seen one Aspie. Like all people. But, being an advocate in a larger sense could have a great value to you and to others if safe.
I also think that having this nuanced conversation with your children could be of great benefit and it depends on their situation and comfort level as to how much they would like to reveal.
I have found that understanding the elements of ASD that I believe I have has been very helpful on a personal level to understand myself - but sharing is my choice only and not a requirement.