[Update — 2136 — I just got off the phone with one of my friends who is a mental health professional and educational specialist. She pointed me to the information on facilitated communication and suggested that this was likely what is going on here. I have to wonder, who is on the other side of the camera, who is typing at the keyboard? From The Skeptics Dictionary:
While several studies have indicated that facilitated communication does tap into the mind of a person who heretofore had been incommunicado, most studies have shown that facilitated communication only taps into the beliefs and expectations of the facilitator.
Many control studies have failed to produce strong evidence that facilitated communication works. Defenders of FC routinely criticize as insignificant or malicious those studies that fail to validate FC.
Yet, it is unlikely that there is a massive conspiracy on the part of all those who have done research on this topic and have failed to arrive at findings agreeable to the FCI.
Parents, family members and professionals want to see those they love get better. They need to have hope. And in our search for hope we too often see that which isn’t there. I think that when the person behind the camera shows themselves, we’ll know much better what is going on here.]
This story is starting to feel more and more like a bit of guerrilla theatre. Not that that is a bad thing. The number of children effected by Autism is growing at an alarming rate and because I have occasion to work with students with Autism, I have a personal interest in how this story continues to develop.
This morning a poster purporting to be the woman in the video commented on MetaFilter. This is the comment:
Someone said I should post as well, so I’m doing so.
It’s interesting how many people describe what I do as checking out of reality, or various variants on this. In fact, this has more to do with which parts of reality a person is paying attention to. Somehow it is “reality” to engage in a lot of abstract symbolic thought (and sort of paste that thought on over one’s surroundings and believe oneself to be perceiving them) but “not reality” to engage in interaction more or less directly with one’s surroundings. If you talk to me for awhile you will find me quite a bit more lucid than some people are painting me as. (Those interested might want to thoroughly read my disclaimer on assumptions and the post linked from it.)
Last September I went to a conference, where there were a number of other autistic people present. Most of us did not talk directly to each other much. Many of us did, however, subtly alter our movements in order to convey things to each other. When I got home, there were emails from a woman who was there who had correctly picked up on the meaning of what I was doing and vice versa. She had circled the table where I was sitting, and I had vaguely altered the rhythm and tone of my movements. This was a form of mutual acknowledgment. Another time I had a conversation across a room with someone about a plant in the corner without either of us saying anything. (No, this isn’t telepathy, it’s being highly aware of each other’s reactions.) The interesting part being that in both of these instances, most people would not have seen any communication taking place.
As far as research is concerned, they seem to be finding that non-autistic people filter out large parts of the world around them, imagine a whole lot to fill in the gaps, and are generally unable to stop even when it would be useful to stop. This has its useful points, and I would never deny that. But they are finding that autistic people, while we can and do filter our experiences like that, can drop the filter when necessary to directly perceive things (inasmuch as the human brain can directly perceive things). Much of our understanding of the world (including pretty high-level understanding) is taking place through things like pattern-matching that are often thought to be “mere” perception instead of “real thought”.
(Unfortunately this also means that mapping language-based communication based on patterns of what those around me were saying or what I was reading often led to some pretty serious misunderstandings, including doubts about my ability to understand the difference between reality and fantasy. My grip on reality was and is stronger than I have sometimes been given credit for, although as I said continued interaction with me should show that I’m not running around hallucinating or something.)
But it also means that there are serious questions as to which group of people is more “in their own world” or “detached from reality”.
I can easily see the advantages of the thought pattern other people have, though, and why most people have it. The one I have also has its advantages.
Someone mentioned being dropped in the woods alone. That’s an interesting example. It’s sometimes thought that the Wild Boy of Aveyron was originally autistic, and the victim of a failed infanticide (possibly based on the changeling tales that recommended infanticide to “bring the real person back”). There are many other stories of autistic children — some thought to not understand a whole lot — who suddenly perform very well in survival situations.
I have said before that I would probably perform better in a survival situation than in an apartment. In an apartment, the steps required to get things like sustenance are pretty divorced from what the things around you tell you. There’s nothing about refrigerators or stoves that tells me how to get food from them, and that’s something I in fact have a good deal of trouble with. In a survival situation, obtaining food becomes a much more physical and practical problem, something that I could probably handle better. It’s been shown that if you put me alone in an apartment for awhile, I can’t pick up any environmental cues for how to do things, so I don’t do a lot (I am not as good at most purely internally-directed physical actions). In a survival situation there are a wide variety of environmental cues that would prompt me into more action more readily. (Even living on the streets, which I only did for a few days during a housing problem, makes what needs to be done more apparent than living in an apartment.)
This is of course not true for all of us, but I don’t doubt that it would be true for a substantial minority, and stories seem to bear that out.
Another thing that I think people might be missing here, is that I never really stopped, even while using other people’s language (or appearing to), using my own.
There’s a vast difference between using a mode of perception as a little kid and discarding it and moving on to other ones (if indeed little kids have more than a superficial similarity to what I do, which I’m not sure either way on), and developing it into a fairly sophisticated way of handling things. I am sure the language of most very young children looks far more useless than adult language. I am likewise sure that the mode of perception and communication I’m most used to doesn’t look all that sophisticated in a toddler, even though I have seen it be extremely sophisticated and useful in adults who never lost that way of perceiving or communicating. (Some of who use the “second language” of, say, what I am writing now, some of whom don’t.)
A closing thought, from a translation I did of an article in French called Autistes: L’intelligence Autrement:
A number of scientists associate the peaks of ability in autistics with a strictly perceptual intelligence, which they often consider a not-very-advanced cognitive faculty. Yet, certain tasks on the Raven test seem to require a cognitive processing more complex than simple perception, notes Laurent Mottron. However, autistics, use perception in a different way than we use it, and this, to solve tasks known as intellectual. “Perception is superfunctional in autistics who discriminate better than we do on the visual and auditory planes. It probably plays a more important and more effective role in the resolution of tasks that call upon the intellect, than among the typicals,” he emphasizes.
When they look at an object, autistics categorize and generalize much less than typicals. Still, they meticulously explore the appearance of the object, its brightness, its shape, and make of it a very thorough, deep processing that opens many doors for them, explains the researcher. Autistics seem to learn many more things than us by simple exposure. “We assimilate information without making an intellectual effort, in a fashion less voluntary than the typicals, and without really knowing what we are doing,” specifies the autistic Michelle Dawson. “This knowledge sits in my brain without doing anything until I find myself in front of a task in which this information is integrated and is used to solve the problem.”
posted by silentmiaow at 5:15 AM PST on January 26 [48 favorites]
I’ve forwarded this to a couple of associates whose professional credentials in this area are far beyond my street-level knowledge. I’ll let you know what they think.