Being for Yourself: Autism and Jean-Paul Sartre

Autonomy and responsibility

Nick Dubin
Blue Notes To Myself

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Photo by mali desha on Unsplash

Recently, I had to return to my pharmacy for a prescription not given to me when I left the store. The pharmacist begged to differ and called the store manager to review the video footage from earlier.

“So where is this customer? Are they here?” the manager asked.

“Yeah, this is him”. And then I got “the look” from the manager. We all recognize this gaze of annoyance and disgust when we experience it.

You may have heard of the song She’s Got The Look by Roxette or When I Look At You by Miley Cyrus. But did you know there is a philosophical concept based upon someone just looking at you?

Sartre’s ‘Look’

Jean-Paul Sartre is an incredibly dense philosopher whose work is terribly difficult to decipher on the page. I get migraines trying to read more than five pages of Sartre’s work. I am not a scholar of Sartre, but one particular concept of his is helpful to me in my life.

The philosopher Jean-Paul Sartre’s concept of “the look,” explained in his seminal book Being and Nothingness, hits home to me on many different levels.

When Sartre pictures humans in time and space by themselves, he sees people as existing in a state of subjectivity. He calls this being-for-itself because, in this state, our essence goes beyond category, and objectivity vanishes. Sartre says that introspection done within one’s inner world that is not subject to other people is a “being-for-itself” kind of consciousness. In a being-for-itself existence, all possibilities are present at once, including negating all other objects because one is not encountering those objects in one’s mind at that moment. If I am not thinking about a trash can now, then a trash can does not exist in my consciousness and is, therefore, negated. But if I do happen to interact with a trash can, my consciousness is directed outside of myself onto the trash can, where I perceive its nature and the associations I make between it and other objects. Being-for-itself is characterized by consciousness being aware of itself, its freedom, and its ability to make choices and ascribe meanings as a subject of its awareness. Additionally, being-for-itself encompasses both the contemplation of one’s inner nature and the contemplation of oneself in the external world. It is a continuous process of self-awareness and engagement with the world, where consciousness reflects the internal self and is responsive to the external environment without others.

All of this changes the moment another person enters my sphere of awareness. Sartre calls this being-for-others.

For example, if I walk along in a daisy field by myself, taking in nature's scents and sounds, I am for myself (or itself) in a subjective state. I exist metaphorically in a so-called state of quantum superposition where my personal view of myself can be anything it wants to be. I can imagine being one of the daises themselves and what that would be like, or I can picture Vincent Van Gogh painting them and imagine what it would have been like to have a conversation with him about the experience. My thoughts are limitless alone.

But then, all of a sudden, out of the corner of my eye, I see a person walking toward me in the daisy field. In a manner of speaking, that person has collapsed my wave function by observing me. The other person can reflect upon who I am while the trash can or daises cannot. I am now subject to the observer effect when, in quantum-speak, I change the very thing I am observing by watching it. Or, in this case, they change me. When someone looks at me, I no longer exist as a pure subject, a stream of endless possibilities in my mind, but by being looked at, I am the “object” for someone else. Sartre would say, “the look” I receive from other people collapses my wave function and reduces me to being an object of someone’s awareness. I have gone from subject to object. The collapse of the wave function defines me as either a particle or a wave, whereas before the collapse, I was both.

In other words, Sartre’s idea of “the look” refers to when one becomes aware another is observing them. This is fundamentally otherizing. The look alters the person’s experience of themselves and their surroundings. They are no longer simply subjects experiencing the world; they also become objects under the gaze of others. Sartre says this phenomenon leads to a sense of objectification and can evoke feelings of shame, self-consciousness, or alienation. For Sartre, the ontological transformation of going from being-for-itself to be being-for-others mostly involves shame more than anything else.

Masking happens for us autistics as soon as others enter our peripheral vision.

Sartre holds dual beliefs regarding being-for-others: While he feels that our being-for-others and “the look” confront us with external perceptions of ourselves and help us consider aspects of our identity that might be overlooked, he also feels that we can fall into “bad faith” and lose our own freedom and authenticity when this happens. When Sartre says we are “condemned to be free,” he means we are forced to choose to live according to our principles despite living in a world where we’re constantly subjected to “the look.”

As Sartre scholar Ajanwachukwu Edward Okoro says:

In every look there is the appearance of an Other-as-object as a concrete and probable presence in my field of perception. On the occasion of certain attitudes of that Other I determine myself to apprehend through shame, anguish and so forth my being looked at. Each look makes us prove concretely that we exist for all men.

To look at another person is immediately to make him the Other. It is to reduce him to the status of an object and thus to reduce his freedom. When the Other through his gaze reduces me to an object my reality begins to depend not on my own freedom but on his. And when I gaze at him his human reality becomes dependent on my freedom. The case becomes that I must get at the Other before he gets at me.

The Other must be looked at as a constant menace against whom war must be continuously waged because the Other represents a danger. The Other-as-object is an explosive instrument which I handle with care because I foresee the permanent possibility of him reversing the situation by looking at me. Therefore my constant concern is to contain the Other within his objectivity and to remain his master. It is such analysis of the „I-Thou‟ relation that requires Sartre to deny that love is ever any simple possibility for human beings.

Can we know what ‘the look’ means?

As if the problem does not sound dire enough as it is, it gets worse. Sartre feels that other people are encapsulated into being objects themselves, and because this is so, we can never inhabit their mental space and thus cannot comprehend the look given to us. We don’t have access to how another person sees us even though we may know “the look” is upon us from all directions. We know we are objects of others’ perceptions and cannot know ourselves as objects beyond our own subjectivity. (Think of when someone says…” I can’t be objective about myself.”). In other words, we know we are being objectified at any given moment, but we can’t say precisely how simply because we are not telepathic. Sartre is very ambivalent about intersubjectivity, although he sees it as beneficial for group solidarity as long as one’s autonomy has not been violated. For Sartre, the human species can have a common intersubjective understanding of a matter, but this is more difficult on the interpersonal level.

And though Sartre acknowledges that “the look” cannot be separated from social and historical contexts, he downplays the ability of humans to decode what it means. Here, I think Sartre is partly wrong. Today, we know microaggressions all too well and how they can manifest themselves through “the look,” especially for minority communities like Black people, Latinos, and disabled individuals. When a Black person gets “the look” from an ignorant white person, or an autistic person gets “the look” that they are asking too many questions about how to do their job, it is unmistakable. We get it, and we know what it means. This does not mean humans have a hundred percent batting average in correctly decoding “the look.” We are flawed and have cognitive distortions from time to time. But many times, we catch it, and our interpretations are correct.

Condemned to be free

Sartre says we are condemned to be free. Condemned to choose how we respond to others being objectified through “the look.” Sartre is partially accurate.

He is right that, on a personal level, we can reject the meaning inherent in another’s “look” by not letting it influence our behavior. But then, if we boil it down to its essence, Sartre is talking about the concept of masking. If we mask, we sometimes do so for economic reasons, i.e.,. for getting and keeping a job. In this instance, are we really ‘free’? Sartre might say ‘yes’ and encourage us to start our own business or engage in an occupation where we can more easily be ourselves. Yet, while this might be ideal if we lived in a utopian world, it is not always the most practical advice. Sartre is on to something when he points out the freedom we are all born with to define ourselves and become who we want to be. But I find it is tough for autistic people to fully unmask under Sartre’s dream ideal standard when one needs to eat.

What would Sartre say to autistics?

By and large, autistic individuals want as much autonomy as we can get and as we rightfully deserve. And Sartre is all for that. But with freedom and independence comes responsibility. And here, I speculate on what Sartre may say to us regarding our responsibility to take care of ourselves.

Sartre would tell us we act in “bad faith” when we try to mask or be the way others want us to. Bad faith refers to self-deception and when we deny our freedom. According to Sartre, bad faith is a lie to oneself. It is Sartre’s way of taking the Freudian unconscious and making us responsible for it, which is quite a tall task.

Sartre would urge us to engage in self-reflection and self-awareness to ensure we align with our identity. If, for example, some of us display a pathological demand avoidance (PDA) profile, meaning we have a persistent drive for autonomy, Sartre would want us to align our actions to help us get what we need to stay regulated. If that means staying away from the water cooler at work so as not to become entangled in gossip, Sartre would applaud the choice of bringing a jug of water to work instead. Sartre would celebrate any affirmative decisions made for our well-being, where we advocate for ourselves despite living in a world not built for us. He would view us as authentic mensches.

Sartre would also remind us that we can never fully know what “the look” means since we cannot inhabit another person’s consciousness. Therefore, Sartre would encourage us to live in the face of the look lest we devolve ourselves wholly to live for others. Sartre would want us to live for ourselves as much as possible.

Sartre would value autistic individuals because many of us innately respect the freedom and subjectivity of people without otherizing them. For Sartre, authentic relationships begin when the autonomy of the other is a first principle, leading to caring and empathetic connections. Quite frankly, I think autistic individuals are better at this than many neurotypicals or allistics.

Conclusion

In this journey through Sartre’s philosophy and its intersection with the lived experiences of those with autism, we’ve uncovered a complex web of challenges and insights. It’s clear that navigating the waters of authenticity versus societal expectations isn’t confined to workplaces but spills over into dating and everyday life. For autistic individuals, these daily interactions often come with added complexity and misunderstanding.

In the world of work, the tightrope walk between unmasking one’s true self and maintaining a professional persona can be particularly treacherous. Sartre’s concept of “the look” rings true here, as individuals feel the weight of their colleagues’ and superiors’ perceptions, constantly balancing authenticity and the practical need to fit in.

In the realm of dating, the stakes feel even higher. The search for a partner who accepts and understands one’s authentic self, especially for someone on the autism spectrum, can be daunting. The fear of judgment and misunderstanding is magnified in such intimate settings. Sartre’s notion of being-for-others can feel overwhelming, as one’s identity and actions are constantly under the microscope of potential partners.

And then, there’s the broader canvas of everyday life — a mosaic of social interactions, from casual conversations with neighbors to interactions at the grocery store. As autistic individuals, these scenarios can be fraught with anxiety and the pressure to conform to social norms that don’t always align with their natural inclinations.

Sartre’s philosophy, when applied to these varied aspects of life, underscores a universal struggle: the quest for authentic existence in the face of external judgment. Being autistic, this struggle is often intensified, as the gaze of the other can be more acutely felt and the societal scripts more challenging to navigate.

Yet, within this struggle lies a profound opportunity — to redefine what it means to live authentically in a world that often seems rigid and unyielding — carving out spaces, however small, where true selves can be expressed and celebrated.

Sartre’s exploration of human freedom and self-identity, I believe, can resonate deeply with the experiences of those on the autism spectrum. It highlights the delicate balance between being true to oneself and navigating a world that isn’t always accommodating. As we grapple with these themes, let’s remember that the journey towards authenticity, challenging as it may be, is also a journey towards a deeper understanding of the human condition — one that values the uniqueness of every individual, neurodiverse or not.

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Nick Dubin
Blue Notes To Myself

Diagnosed with Asperger’s Syndrome (now ASD level 1) in 2004. Author of Autism Spectrum Disorder, Developmental Disabilities and the CJS, among other books.