Do autistic people feel empathy?
Any parent of an autistic child is likely, at some point, to wonder how their son or daughter is able to understand and experience emotions. ‘Do they know when another child is upset?’ ‘Do they know that I’m feeling sad/happy/angry?’ ‘Do they care?’ ‘Can they share in that experience with me?’ In other words, do autistic people feel empathy? Working as an Educational Psychologist, it is a question I’m asked, in one form or another, quite regularly by parents (and school staff). It is also a question, particularly in the context of a consultation meeting, that is not easy to answer in a satisfactory way. I will attempt to do this here.
As with most questions related to autism, it would be unhelpful, and illogical, to try and give any kind of sweeping, catch-all answer. The spectral nature of autism means that there is inevitably a great deal of individual difference in the way in which it presents, and the impact it has upon functioning. More than this, and as with all human dispositions, one’s ability to empathise is not an all-or-nothing concept, but one that is highly task- and context-dependent. Nevertheless, the question is a relevant one, and in attempting to answer it, we uncover a great deal about the nature of autism, how it is understood, and how we might connect more effectively with those who receive a diagnosis.
So what exactly is empathy? Most of us would understand it as the ability to put oneself in another’s shoes; to understand a situation from their perspective, and to be able to provide the sensitive and socially-appropriate response. Indeed, most technical definitions of empathy encompass both a cognitive (perspective-taking) and an affective (emotional response) component. In other words, it is our ability to both understand and respond to the situation of another that makes us a competent empath. It is a skill that is generally seen as being central to the way in which we process and make sense of our interpersonal worlds, and how, in turn, we navigate our day-to-day life. It is also a skill that, traditionally, autistic people are thought to lack.
It is possible to see why this might have emerged as a commonly-held view, and, particularly in the complex and rapidly-changing social environments of everyday life, many autistic people will, at times, appear to struggle to process and respond to the emotions of others (it will be partly on this basis that they received the diagnosis in the first place). However, research into autistic people’s ability to empathise paints a complex picture, and although, on average, non-autistic groups tend to perform comparatively better than autistic groups, this does not account for great deal of individual overlap. Furthermore, there are a great many factors that affect individual performance, including age, gender, learning needs, and verbal ability.
Most crucially of all, the vast majority of this research tends to be based on societal norms about how empathy should be exhibited, how it is measured, and what constitutes an ‘appropriate response’. The implication, then, if an autistic person struggles within such a research scenario (or in society more generally), is that the difficulty lies solely within them, i.e. it is their ability to empathise that is deficient. An alternative lens we could apply, however, would be to suggest that any difficulties that arise in establishing an emotional connection are due to differences in ‘embodied disposition’ (ways of viewing the world) between two individuals leading to an empathy deficit that goes both ways. In other words, it is the other (non-autistic) person involved in the interaction who has been unable to empathise just as much as the other way around.
By changing our perspective in this way, we begin to shift the focus away from individual deficit, and towards a shared responsibility for change. Again, more traditionally, the focus would have been for the autistic person to ‘fall in line’, to conform to expectations around what a ‘normal’ interaction looks like, and, in essence, to become less autistic. Increasingly, however, such a stance is being challenged, and there is a continued drive towards an acceptance, and celebration, of autistic difference.
Part of this involves dispensing with the idea of autistic behaviour being bizarre, odd, peculiar or obsessional, and asks that we instead see it as a very natural (albeit idiosyncratic) response to a given emotional state. We must take time to observe, explore and understand these different behaviours, and, instead of viewing them as a barrier to interaction, begin to see them as an opportunity to nurture interests and encourage interaction. Ultimately, it is beginning to learn, by conscious effort, to try and see the world as autistic people see it; to put yourself in their shoes; to empathise.
This does not mean that autistic people should not be supported in their ability to understand and process emotions. Inevitably, this is what they will continue to be required to do as they attempt to navigate social environments that are skewed towards, and have designs rooted within, non-autistic standards. It simply asks that this accommodation is mutual.
There is often discussion about autistic children ‘being in their own world’, and that the aim should be to bring them out of it. While this runs the risk of perpetuating the idea of autistic people being ‘detached’, it is possible to see the logic behind it, and typically the goal is, very reasonably, to enable that individual to live as fulfilled and as happy a life as possible. However, rather than aiming to bring them out of their world into one we have we created, perhaps our aim could be to meet them halfway, to find a window into their world, and begin to share in their experience.
So, to return to our original question — do autistic people feel empathy? — it seems reasonable to conclude that yes, absolutely they do. Naturally, this will be to varying degrees, and be expressed in a variety of ways, many of which that we (as non-autistic observers) may never fully understand. What seems key, however, is that we view this not as a deficit in empathy but as a difference in empathy. By embracing this difference, and by exploring the ways in which we might engage with and make sense of it, we can begin to think in different ways about how we understand and interact with autistic people, and, ultimately, how we understand ourselves.
Relevant article: Begon, R., & Billington, T. (2019). Between category and experience: constructing autism, constructing critical practice. Educational Psychology in Practice, 35(2), 184–196
Dr Rob Begon
The University of Sheffield and Wakefield Council
Rob is a tutor on the Doctor of Educational Child Psychology (DEdCPsy) at The School of Education, The University of Sheffield.
