Thoughts on Kindness

Read now (4 mins) | What you say vs. what my Autistic brain hears

July 17, 2022

My experience with the word kindness might be different than yours. 

As an undiagnosed autistic person for my first 39 (of 49) years on the planet, kindness was a term that did a lot of harm to me. I experienced it as a weapon against my instincts to share the truth and correct wrongs. 

In school and in my corporate career, I was constantly corrected for not being kind enough. Usually these corrections came after I identified an injustice or inconsistency in a policy that I took it upon myself to point out in an attempt to correct. 

What seemed unkind to me was the rule that was causing harm.

I would follow the process to fix it until the process ran out. Then I would continue to lobby and protest (often in creative, out-of-the-box ways) to prove my point. 

I was called difficult and argumentative. I was relentless. 

I was told my approach was not kind, which made it seem to me like the kind thing they were arguing for was to let a rule stand that did not benefit the common good. This, for me, was very confusing. 

I didn’t know then about different neurotypes. I began to distrust authority figures who, to me, seemed like they were lying. It wasn’t kindness they were interested in, it was compliance. At least that is how it seemed to me. 

I developed a world view - from the Kindness Paradox and many other similar issues - that most people in the world were liars. 

Someone would say “How are you?” But they meant, “I recognize your humanity but I don’t actually want to know how who you are.” 

To me that feels like a lie. 

Someone would say “Can I help?” But they meant “I see you might need help and I’d like credit for noticing this.”

To me that feels like a lie. 

Someone would say “I can’t afford it.” but they meant, “This isn’t a priority for me.”

To me that feels like a lie. 

I’ve had many conversations with neurotypical people about the difference between niceness and kindness. The conversation is maddening to me. Call it what you want. When you fake shit to protect someone else’s feelings or ego, to me, as an autistic person, this feels like lying. 

People say the most outlandish shit about me. They often imagine I’m mad at them, or I don’t like them, or I’m plotting against them. They smile to my face and then I hear what they are saying about me behind my back and I’m flummoxed. I always just say what I mean! There is never a secret agenda!

Neurotypical brains have the ability to add all this color and nuance. My brain doesn’t know how to do anything but tell the direct head on truth. My brain (incorrectly) assumes your brain values order, accuracy, and linearity above all else. My brain (incorrectly) does not imagine that emotions will color your interpretation of what I say. 

If I say “I like chocolate ice cream.” My brain assumes your brain will think this means I like chocolate ice cream. 

It does not think your brain will think:

• I’m trying to insult your taste in ice cream. 

• I’m trying to hint at you that I would like to get ice cream. 

• I’m commenting on your weight. 

If you read something else into what I say, I guess it can seem like I’m being unkind when I’m being factual, direct, and blunt, but that is your interpretation not my intention. 

So the term kindness (or even niceness) is subjective not to what I mean, but to how what I say is interpreted. And it’s weaponized against me (and other autistics) to mean “Your words did not match the way my brain interprets kindness.”

And in a mirror-like response, my brain says the same: “Your weird manner of saying slightly different things to what you actually mean to meet your agenda of being liked feels deeply unkind to me.”

Recent studies show when you put 2 autistic people or 2 neurotypical people together they will interpret terms like Kindness and Niceness the same way. But if you put an autistic person with a neurotypical person (Allistic) there will be a massive miscommunication. Neither autistics nor allistics are very good at finding empathy for each other. This is known as the Double Empathy problem. 

Both autistics and neurotypicals have the same level of empathy within their own groups. Both autistics and neurotypicals are terrible at empathizing across neurotypes.

So when you say someone that everyone should be able to get behind like “Kindness Matters” or “Honesty is the best policy” it’s worth asking whether you are sharing this in a group with mixed neurotypes who might interpret it differently.

Understanding these differences might not make it easier, but what I’ve learned in 10 years since my diagnosis is that it makes it so much better to at least understand the reason why things are so hard. 

Autistics like me have an expression we use all the time. We say, “It feels like I was born on the wrong planet.” When we come together it feels like we are with our species. But we only make up 5-10% of earthlings, so not only is it not possible to stay with others from our planet, we don’t want to. 

We want to be friends with you, and work with you, and laugh with you; but I guess there are a lot of us lately wondering if we can find some allies who are willing to help us bridge the divide between our worldviews. 

If you are neurotypical and reading this, you are a part of that solution where we all understand brain differences better. 

If you are neurotypical and you share this, you are the ally we have been waiting for. Thank you for your allyship.

How does the Double-Empathy Problem show up in your life? Tell me about it in the comments!

Related episodes from The Autistic Culture Podcast:
Episode 20: Sesame Street is Autistic
Episode 36: Bad Autism Diagnosis

*Background note: Most people only have a vague (often, highly stereotyped) version of autism in their minds and believe that autistic children need (traumatic) ABA therapy to "overcome" their disability and appear "normal."  After receiving an autism diagnosis in her thirties, Dr. Angela Lauria realized that she too had been mostly unaware of what it means to be Autistic.  Like so many people, she started her journey by first gathering information and resources from the omnipresent (and problematic) Autism Speaks, but eventually moved away from the 'autism community' in favor of the 'Autistic community,' where she found kinship with other Autistic individuals and learned to let go of pathologizing language like 'autism spectrum disorder' and 'Asperger's Syndrome.'  This autism blog (and her autism podcast, "The Autistic Culture Podcast") is meant to share her lived-experience insights to support others on a similar journey of diagnosis, understanding, and community. Embrace Autism--differences are not deficits.