What is Autism?

It upsets me greatly when who I am is described incorrectly. Too often, autism is explained only through outside observation, which fails to capture what it truly is — and in doing so, misrepresents it. I don’t believe this happens out of malice, but the effect is still damaging.

This is a bold and controversial claim, I know. But please give me — an autistic individual — the respectful right to provide my view on who I am, and to show who others like me are.

Here is a typical definition, taken from one of the largest autism organisations in the United States:

“Autism, or autism spectrum disorder (ASD), refers to a broad range of conditions characterized by challenges with social skills, repetitive behaviors, speech and nonverbal communication.”

Let’s review:

• “Disorder” = a malfunction.

• “Malfunction” = faulty functioning, failure to function.

And all of this is based on comparison to “the norm.”

The Car Analogy

Now let’s set autism aside for a moment and ask: what is a car?

If I answered, “A car makes noise, breaks down, costs money, and gets you places,” you’d instantly recognise the flaw. That’s not what a car is — those are just observable side-effects.

This is exactly what our current definitions of autism are doing. They describe what people see on the outside — behaviours — without ever addressing the architecture that causes them.

By the same logic, we could say: “Being gay is hand-flapping, saying ‘you go guuurl,’ and dancing shirtless to Madonna.” Ridiculous, yes — but it makes the point: external behaviours are not the definition.

(Though the urge to take your shirt off is unbelievably strong when those first few bars of Vogue drop on the dance floor... dammit… let’s chalk that down to some kind of primal wiring.)

The Reality

Autism is not a list of symptoms, it's not a diagnosis for influenza.

Autism is the difference in how the human brain processes information. Surprise, there is not only one method.

Can you believe we are in 2025 and that's still not understood? Understanding this is fundamental to understanding autism.

Autistic brains run a fundamentally different operating architecture. Where most people (neurotypicals) process information with layers of emotional filtering and social prioritisation, autistic people process information directly, logically, and with different weightings of relevance, importance, and detail.

Analogy time:

• Neurotypical processing = CISC processor. Complex, layered, emotion-integrated. Prevalent in most humans, and called “normal” only because it’s common.

• Autistic processing = RISC processor. Streamlined, logical. Emotion is reasoned rather than “felt and filtered” through social bias.

This means the autistic world is reasoned through rather than absorbed intuitively. That is autism.

Why the Confusion?

What people observe as “autism” — social struggles, repetitive behaviours, communication differences — usually come not from the core RISC vs CISC difference, but from missing or differently loaded “kernel modules.” These are the brain’s interpretation tools for filtering sensory input and social data.

Neurotypicals have countless modules loaded by default. Autistics often don’t, so we build “middleware scripts” — coping mechanisms, literal instructions like “do this, say this, don’t do that” — to navigate a world designed for CISC.

When our modules or scripts don’t line up with society’s defaults, it looks like “deficit.” But what’s actually being observed are the side-effects of an entirely different operating model.

Without middleware scripts, our default behaviour appears more primal — we rely on blunt truth and logic as reasoning, or simply walk away. We say what we think, naturally and unfiltered, and often cannot cope with so-called ‘normal’ experiences like noise, light, or crowds.

Brain scans back this up. MRIs show different wiring and activation patterns: autistic brains are not “broken neurotypical brains” — they are different architectures altogether. Yet somehow this glaring fact keeps being ignored.

If we compared an octopus’ distributed brain network to a human’s and judged it by neurotypical wiring, we’d call the octopus “broken” too. Is it? Perhaps we have just defined "octopus spectrum disorder".

Calling CISC “normal” because it’s common is the same flawed logic that once called heterosexuality the only valid way to be human. We now know how barbaric that thinking was. Autism is no different.

A Better Understanding

If you want the deeper dive into how this difference actually works, read The Human Experience, Understanding Autism (Our Reality) (pp. 383–408).

It may shift your entire perspective of what autism is — from a list of deficits to a legitimate, alternative way of processing the world that in the right conditions can even outperform neurotypical processing (see The Human Experience, or look at AI researchers, Google engineers, Elon Musk, etc.).

Only when autism is recognised as a valid, alternative operating architecture — normal on its own terms — can society truly begin to help us.

Back to Definitions

So, is autism a disorder? No.

By that logic:

• A gay man is a “failed man” because he won’t have intercourse with a woman.

• A ute (pickup truck) is a “disorder” because it failed to be a sedan.

o_O Are you kidding me right now?

The DSM gave us a starting point, but it’s time to evolve the framing — just like we did with homosexuality. It’s an insult to us all. It’s fundamentally flawed to assume disorder based on observed side-effects. Look inside a system, not outside it. Update this definition.

ASD was a step forward compared to Asperger’s, but it still frames us only as a problem, a disorder. The next step is to frame us as what we actually are: a cognitive type.

Autism is real. It is a type of human brain cognition, the other being Emotionalism (the neurotypical mode). Autism is the difference in brain architecture and cognition when compared to neurotypicals. That’s it, defined. Add to dictionary.

If you argue “ASD” is valid because it’s the medical term, remember this:

• 1952: DSM defined homosexuality as a “sociopathic personality disturbance.”

• 1968: it was rebranded as a “sexual deviation.”

• 1973: only after protests — and to end electroshock therapy, lobotomies, and forced institutionalisation of gay people — was homosexuality finally deleted from the DSM.

DSM: defining human difference incorrectly (and requiring constant update) since 1952.

This isn’t about hating on the DSM. It’s about recognising that, like with homosexuality, it can be wrong — and it can be corrected. Autism should not be framed as a list of symptoms, because that is derogatory, reductive, and entirely incorrect. It’s time for the DSM to update its framing to reflect what autism truly is: a valid, alternative cognitive architecture. Anything less is misrepresentation. The DSM needs to include nuance never described before from the section that follows, herein is the key to how DSM can really elevate understanding, precision, and help millions of us.

Please remember why this is so important: misunderstanding blocks progress — correcting it helps millions of us and improves the world for everyone. Right now, if you are autistic, you’re considered a malfunctioning neurotypical. You’re not neurotypical though, you never started out to be. Those with blood types A and B aren’t failed O-types. Those born homosexual aren’t failed hetereosexuals. Artists aren’t failed Scientists. Everything contains nuance.

Accuracy of Impairment

Here’s the big insight: neurotypical brains function like a monolithic kernel — everything loads at once by default. Autistic brains are closer to Minix — a modular kernel, loading components in and out at runtime, as needed.

Disability doesn’t come from autism itself. It arises when certain kernel modules are missing or faulty. The architecture (Minix/autism) still works, but specific modules may fail to load or operate correctly.

We are not disabled by the operating model of our brains, but by the failure of modules within that model. This distinction matters. It explains why some autistic people are (horribly) branded “high-functioning” — their modules mostly load and work — while others live with many modules missing and need round the clock care.

The ‘spectrum’ idea caught on because it was the quickest way to explain why some autistic people need round-the-clock care while others thrive in demanding jobs. But spectrum isn’t an explanation — it’s shorthand and a present well-intended placeholder. What’s really happening is at the kernel-module level: which modules load, which don’t, and how we patch with middleware.

The real research challenge isn’t why we operate on a different model (that’s like asking why some of us are homosexual — it just is). The focus should be: within our cognitive model, why do some of us experience kernel-module failures, and why can some of us ‘middleware’ our way through while others cannot? That’s where the true definition of “spectrum” lies — in scientific terms — and where the biggest breakthroughs will come in supporting those impacted by module failures.

For most of us, when modules fail to load we rely on middleware — social scripts and learned behaviours built through experience. This lets us function, but it’s harder, slower, and draining. Middleware use leads to burnout and often creates friction with neurotypical norms, unless we become skilled at “masking” — faking or acting “normal” behaviours to fit in.