The Ethics of Autism: Among Them, but Not of Them

Voices of Autism: Jim Sinclair

Voices of Autism Jim Sinclair wrote an autobiographical essay, “Bridging the Gaps: An Inside-Out View of Autism (Or, Do You Know What I Don’t Know?),” at the age of twenty-seven. Sinclair did not use speech to communicate until he was twelve years old, and did not have a vocabulary to articulate his own feelings until he was twenty-five. He attributes this delay to the fact that no one explained to him what the words for subjective experiences actually meant until he was much older. He recounts the painstaking way in which he needed to learn and relearn words and their meanings, relearning to read numerous times, and not always having the certainty that the words he would hope to use were available to him (Sinclair 1992, 298). Sinclair’s observations of an autistic life run the gamut from reflections on self-consciousness to relationships with others. Sinclair’s assessment is that autism means that his “input-output equipment may work in nonstandard ways” (Sinclair 1992, 295), including the ability to extract meaning out of language. For this reason, Sinclair says that persons with autism might have to learn what other people seem to know without learning, such as evidencing feelings by not just using words, but by having those feelings reflected in facial expressions. While spoken language and the complex language of relationships present difficulties, Sinclair holds that he is “never out of touch with my core” (Sinclair 1992, 298). His own mental states may be difficult to articulate to others, but his reflections on his own conscious states are uncompromised. Sinclair’s observations about the role of relationships in his life are richly nuanced. On one hand, he observes that there are times when he is comfortable going days or weeks without having contact with other people. Even those long stretches of being alone do not result in loneliness. Sinclair admits that there are some aspects of human relationships that are baffling to him, requiring a “separate translation code for every person I meet” (Sinclair 1992, 300), because social cues can escape him. On the other hand, indifference to relationships frees him to form attachments only with those people whose company he truly enjoys. This freedom, combined with the fact that he needs a separate translation code for each person, distinguishes his connections with those people with whom he chooses to associate. The intensity of the attachment may be rich, and not merely a pale imitation of non-autistic connections. Despite this intensity, Sinclair observes that his connections with other people can be transient. “I don’t stick,” he says (Sinclair 1992, 301). Sinclair concludes his essay with this observation: “My personhood is intact. My selfhood is undamaged. I find great value and meaning in my life, and I have no wish to be cured of being myself” (Sinclair, p. 302). 1 Seth Chwast, 2 Black Griffins on Valentine’s Day Sky ...