My Point of View: Growing Up on the Autism Spectrum, by Mark Hogan, is a set of autobiographical snippets and short stories about the author's life growing up autistic in Ireland. It's a very short book, so if you want to immerse yourself in the headspace of an autistic adult, this is probably the quickest read I've ever found for that category.
So, the very first thing to note here is that the author repeats quite often that he has no theory of mind. Theory of mind is the skill of putting yourself in another person's shoes and trying to imagine how they might be thinking or feeling. It's what you use to predict whether a joke will be funny to your audience. It gives you the information you need to know whether someone is being sarcastic.
If you're familiar with the concept of theory of mind, you'll recognize how fundamental this is to communication. When you make jokes, or decide what subject to talk about, or even decide whether to start a conversation, you use theory of mind to decide what kind of joke is appropriate, what subject that other person would be interested in, and whether the person is going to be receptive to a conversation at all.
For example, when I go to start a conversation with my spouse, I can make the assumption, based on what I know of him, that he will be interested conversations about the trading card game Magic: The Gathering. I, personally, am not interested in this subject much, so without theory of mind I might assume no one was interested in Magic: The Gathering and never talk about it. People without theory of mind don't see beyond their own point of view.
Maybe a more important example is in how my spouse and I handle reconnecting post-argument. With theory of mind, I know that my spouse appreciates hugs after we've been at odds with each other. Without it, I would assume that my spouse, like myself, would prefer some space to calm down and mentally distance from the argument. If you suddenly hug me after an argument I am likely to react very poorly, which is why it's good that my spouse tends to ask for hugs after arguments rather than demanding them or just starting them without warning. But if I always walked away to get my space and distance after an argument, my spouse would feel hurt and alienated. So theory of mind helps both of us communicate and reconnect.
Lacking theory of mind, therefore, is a significant disability, which I hope I've made clear here. Notably, lacking theory of mind is not a specifically autistic trait. It's a trait that can go along with autism, but it is not specifically autistic. I can say that because I'm autistic, and several people I know are autistic, but we all have theory of mind.
There's a catch to that ownership of theory of mind, though. That is: the more different the mind is from your own, the harder it is to have a theory of it. Autistic people are simply different. Not less, but definitely different. So like my example above, my spouse (and many neurotypical humans) prefer to re-establish physical closeness after an argument. This is affirming and positive for most people. It says, on an emotional level, "I am still close to you and care about you." That kind of affirmation is a very good thing after an argument and hurt feelings.
For me, though? If I'm upset (and I usually am after an argument), my skin is going to be extra sensitive. Touch, especially hugs or other kinds of closeness, will actually hurt or at least be unpleasant. So my preference is to go off by myself and cool down so I can refocus and move past the argument. I already know my spouse loves me, and giving or receiving a hug will not change that to me. So in this way, my spouse and I differ fundamentally.
(If anyone is curious, the compromise is that we usually hug or have some kind of touch, and then my spouse leaves me alone so I can cool down.)
I have theory of mind, but what's normal for me isn't what's normal for most people. I have, therefore, had to learn to figure out specifically what's normal for neurotypical people, bit by bit. I have a talent for recognizing patterns, which is also somewhat an autistic thing, so that helped me learn.
However, it's something like trying to learn what's normal for another culture, or even what's normal for aliens. Y'all simply don't work, act, or think like me. So I, and other autistic people with theory of mind, have a much harder time using theory of mind. Even though we often have it.
Theory of mind explanation aside... reading this book made me kind of sad. Like many autistic adults, there's a lot of frustration in the author's memoirs. A lot of alienation, a lot of miscommunication, and a lot of forcing himself to do things he didn't want to and knew ahead of time was going to make him miserable.
The book is all of 55 pages, so it's not a long read and it does, as advertised, give you a sense of what it's like to be the author. This was made more interesting to me by the fact that he's Irish, so there's bits and pieces of that culture in the stories.
So, the very first thing to note here is that the author repeats quite often that he has no theory of mind. Theory of mind is the skill of putting yourself in another person's shoes and trying to imagine how they might be thinking or feeling. It's what you use to predict whether a joke will be funny to your audience. It gives you the information you need to know whether someone is being sarcastic.
If you're familiar with the concept of theory of mind, you'll recognize how fundamental this is to communication. When you make jokes, or decide what subject to talk about, or even decide whether to start a conversation, you use theory of mind to decide what kind of joke is appropriate, what subject that other person would be interested in, and whether the person is going to be receptive to a conversation at all.
For example, when I go to start a conversation with my spouse, I can make the assumption, based on what I know of him, that he will be interested conversations about the trading card game Magic: The Gathering. I, personally, am not interested in this subject much, so without theory of mind I might assume no one was interested in Magic: The Gathering and never talk about it. People without theory of mind don't see beyond their own point of view.
Maybe a more important example is in how my spouse and I handle reconnecting post-argument. With theory of mind, I know that my spouse appreciates hugs after we've been at odds with each other. Without it, I would assume that my spouse, like myself, would prefer some space to calm down and mentally distance from the argument. If you suddenly hug me after an argument I am likely to react very poorly, which is why it's good that my spouse tends to ask for hugs after arguments rather than demanding them or just starting them without warning. But if I always walked away to get my space and distance after an argument, my spouse would feel hurt and alienated. So theory of mind helps both of us communicate and reconnect.
Lacking theory of mind, therefore, is a significant disability, which I hope I've made clear here. Notably, lacking theory of mind is not a specifically autistic trait. It's a trait that can go along with autism, but it is not specifically autistic. I can say that because I'm autistic, and several people I know are autistic, but we all have theory of mind.
There's a catch to that ownership of theory of mind, though. That is: the more different the mind is from your own, the harder it is to have a theory of it. Autistic people are simply different. Not less, but definitely different. So like my example above, my spouse (and many neurotypical humans) prefer to re-establish physical closeness after an argument. This is affirming and positive for most people. It says, on an emotional level, "I am still close to you and care about you." That kind of affirmation is a very good thing after an argument and hurt feelings.
For me, though? If I'm upset (and I usually am after an argument), my skin is going to be extra sensitive. Touch, especially hugs or other kinds of closeness, will actually hurt or at least be unpleasant. So my preference is to go off by myself and cool down so I can refocus and move past the argument. I already know my spouse loves me, and giving or receiving a hug will not change that to me. So in this way, my spouse and I differ fundamentally.
(If anyone is curious, the compromise is that we usually hug or have some kind of touch, and then my spouse leaves me alone so I can cool down.)
I have theory of mind, but what's normal for me isn't what's normal for most people. I have, therefore, had to learn to figure out specifically what's normal for neurotypical people, bit by bit. I have a talent for recognizing patterns, which is also somewhat an autistic thing, so that helped me learn.
However, it's something like trying to learn what's normal for another culture, or even what's normal for aliens. Y'all simply don't work, act, or think like me. So I, and other autistic people with theory of mind, have a much harder time using theory of mind. Even though we often have it.
Theory of mind explanation aside... reading this book made me kind of sad. Like many autistic adults, there's a lot of frustration in the author's memoirs. A lot of alienation, a lot of miscommunication, and a lot of forcing himself to do things he didn't want to and knew ahead of time was going to make him miserable.
The book is all of 55 pages, so it's not a long read and it does, as advertised, give you a sense of what it's like to be the author. This was made more interesting to me by the fact that he's Irish, so there's bits and pieces of that culture in the stories.
Read This Book If
You want to explore a facet of the autism spectrum and get a sense for what it can be like to live without theory of mind. Fellow autistics might read this book to meet a kindred spirit, and parents and teachers might find the descriptions of the author's reasoning helpful to understanding their loved ones and students. This is a very short book, at 55 pages, written in short chunks of story or perspective on specific subjects. It's written fairly accessibly. There are some words or concepts that reference Ireland's accent and culture, but overall I didn't have trouble understanding the book.
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