The Autism Syndrome

7 reasons why the label ‘autistic’ is becoming as fake as a cartoon villain.

“Oh, I’m real. Self-diagnosed, in fact!”

What do The Incredibles, Sherlock Holmes, and Robert F. Kennedy, Jr., all have in common?

Autism.

Okay, so Mr. and Mrs. Incredible, Britain’s most famous detective and RFK, Jr., aren’t all autistic. But they all have a profound place in a serious discussion of autism.

I just read an excellent article by Hannah Spier, MD., about autism called The Spectrum: How Autism Was Hijacked By Narcissists.

It’s shocking. It’s bold. It’s harsh. …and it’s true, from what I can tell.

I highly recommend reading it if you have any interest in autism, children, or public health.

In it, Dr. Spier (a Norwegian Medical Doctor with a background in psychiatry and a degree in Cognitive Behavioural Psychotherapy) makes the case for how the “epidemic” of autism is mostly wishful thinking from eccentric people who really like attention and want a lot of it.

Based on what I’ve seen over the past few years, I’d say that’s right on. Here’s an especially telling nugget:

“Characters like Sheldon Cooper and Sherlock Holmes have helped turn the image of autism into a badge of honour. It means you’re socially odd, intellectually superior, and emotionally detached in an edgy and endearing way. For many, especially mothers with narcissistic tendencies hungry for a narrative of exceptionalism, this offered a seductive reframing of their child’s misbehaviour and non-conformity as evidence of giftedness. She could thus become the one who gave birth to the quirky but special genius. She alone saw the hidden brilliance beneath the “weird” behaviour. She became the martyr and the insider to an elite subculture. It’s Munchausen by proxy, 2025 edition.”

Wow. This is the most honest assessment I’ve seen since my own brush with the “autism” label when I was diagnosed as having Asperger’s Syndrome (now called Autism Spectrum Disorder, Level 1) back in 2023.

As I read her critique, I carefully analyzed my own thoughts and behaviors to make sure I’m not also guilty of the kind of narcissism she’s describing. I don’t think I am. But I am still cautious, and I try to be self-critical.

This discussion is interesting and important for several reasons I’d like to share here. For what it’s worth, here’s my perspective.

#1: Self-diagnosis is illegitimate (obviously)

The single most obnoxious thing I’ve heard since autism became something I discovered and experienced is people who say, “I’m autistic—self-diagnosed.”

I take those people about as seriously as I would someone who complains of a headache and says, “It’s because I have a brain tumor,” only to find out he or she is just guessing.

I don’t believe anyone who “self-diagnoses” their own brain tumor.

I also don’t believe anyone who “self-diagnoses” their own autism.

That’s as unserious as a person can possibly be. If you think there’s a growth inside your skull, get your head examined. Literally, go see a doctor and get an X-ray of your noggin. Then I’ll believe you. Until then, as far as I’m concerned, the tumor in your head is “just in your head.”

Also, it’s offensive. With people I’ve spoken to about this issue, I’ve remained firm in my insistence: “Autism is not a cool club to join. You don’t want to be a part of it.”

Remember Michael Scott on The Office, when he burns his foot on a George Foreman grill at home, then hobbles around on crutches all day, telling everyone he’s disabled? Remember how offensive that is to the building’s landlord, who uses a wheelchair? It’s kind of like that.

Michael Scott: “Do you know what it's like to be disabled?”

Don’t tell people you have a developmental disorder or disability just because you’re socially awkward. Those are not the same.

Whenever I hear people say “I’m autistic—self-diagnosed,” I picture Michael Scott with his bare foot in bubble wrap, and hear Pam asking: “You cooked your foot on a foreman grill?”

#2: Today’s autism explosion may not be an epidemic

Right now, the U.S. Health and Human Services Secretary, Robert F. Kennedy, Jr., is sounding the alarm about how the rates of autism diagnosis have reached a level of occurrence that would terrify the public if it were any other health issue.

According to the CDC, autism now affects 1 in 31 children—a staggering increase from 1 in 150 in the year 2000.

This is a perfectly fair point to make, and it’s also perfectly fair to ask: “Why?” (To be clear: I am, in general, a moderate fan of RFK, Jr, and I cannot understand the vitriol spewed his way by people who should know better.)

There are at least three ways to think about this conversation, though.

First, this sounds a lot like the discussion surrounding gluten intolerance: many times I’ve heard people sarcastically say something like the following:

“Golly gee! Everyone is so fragile these days! Gluten is naturally occurring in grain! If gluten is so bad, how did humans survive for so many thousands of years eating gluten without any problems? Nobody had gluten intolerance before!”

This sounds like a smart thing to say. Until you realize: obviously, people did not survive for thousands of years “without any problems.” People died all the time, at young ages, for lots of reasons.

How many people became sick and died from eating gluten? We don’t know... we can’t know because they didn’t know what gluten was, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t an issue.

At various points in time, the average life expectancy was about 34 years. People may well have died due to gluten-intolerance-related diseases or disorders if they weren’t disemboweled by their sword-wielding enemies or the ravages of cholera or plague first. But that doesn’t mean they didn’t have celiac disease or weren’t gluten intolerant.

Second, we may actually have become more sensitive to things like gluten over the centuries. Just as humans’ stomachs have become much more sensitive to things like Giardia-infested water, our natural immunity to all kinds of things may indeed have petered out to a level where it’s become a major health issue.

As of this writing, we don’t know what the cause of autism is. It may be genetic. It may be environmental. Science and medicine have not given us a definitive answer. That doesn’t mean it is one and not the other, though. It may even be a combination of both, or none of the above.

All that to say, could it be that environmental toxins like heavy metals or fluoride in our drinking water are causing autism in utero? I don’t know. And neither do you.

Could our bodies be more sensitive to a world filled with microplastics, processed foods, hormone therapies, and pesticides? For sure.

Again, as someone diagnosed with Asperger’s/ASD1, I wonder about this as well. I asked the psychiatrist I met with about the cause of my own diagnosis. (Disease? Disorder? Disability?)

The answer is: we don’t know. Also, there’s no cure or treatment. No “autism pill” exists.

(By the way, even if there were a cure, would I want it? What part of me needs to be “cured,” after all? With something like this so closely tied to my sense of self, would it change my personality? Do I want it to? If my wife married me the way I am, and I could take a pill to “remove autism,” would I be the same man she married? Would I be better, or worse? Questions abound!)

Third, as with the gluten tolerance issue, there is indeed a case to be made that “it’s always existed—we just have better ways of testing for it now.”

If medical science improves at screening for a particular health issue—especially if it does so significantly and rapidly—it may certainly seem like the occurrence has increased to epidemic levels.

Or, it may simply be that we’re better at identifying it and giving it a name now more than at any time in history. That would obviously totally skew the charts and graphs, causing a massive spike that might scare people.

(Remember during COVID, when everyone panicked because there was a huge uptick in positive test results, and it turned out it was just that the number grew higher because more people were being tested? Of course, more people could test positive for a virus when more people are being tested than in the past.)

People have been dying due to infectious diseases caused by fecal-matter-borne bacteria since the beginning of time. We’re really good at identifying it now, but simply because people in the past didn’t know that germs existed or that they thrive in fecal matter and can kill you if you don’t wash your hands after cleaning out a cesspool doesn’t mean those germs didn’t exist before, or that they weren’t killing people before.

It just means we have a name for it now, and we know how to identify illnesses caused by germs now. The same goes for all kinds of mental illnesses, conditions, diseases, and disorders.

On that note, don’t forget that for most of human history, people thought mental illness was due to demon possession. How many people with schizophrenia were unfairly chained to their chairs in dark dungeons because they were thought to be demoniacs? I shudder to think of the number.

That we have treatments for people like this should be cause for celebration now, not something where we throw up our hands and say, “Ahhh! We have an epidemic!”

Maybe we do, maybe we don’t. Maybe we’re just better at knowing what’s actually going on and looking for ways to treat it now.

#3: If we do have an epidemic, it’s an epidemic of narcissism

Leaving aside the issue of why we may have so many autism diagnoses in 2025, I do agree that the biggest cause of the autism “epidemic” is actually narcissism.

(I want to come up with a new term to describe the wave of faux-autism self-diagnoses. “Fauxtism?” Can I say that?)

As Dr. Spier points out, this narcissistic faux-autism trend is almost completely driven by women, mothers specifically. They’re like the Munchausen syndrome by proxy (MSBP) parents who just want to feel like their child is special.

Like the “my child is trans” mothers jumping on the transgender craze bandwagon as outlined in books like “Irreversible Damage: The Transgender Craze Seducing Our Daughters” by Abigail Shrier, these devouring mothers want attention, for themselves and for their children.

I have seen enough of this, first-hand, in the circles I’ve come into contact with since my own diagnosis to know that this is absolutely real, and it is absolutely a problem.

To be clear, once again: I was diagnosed with Asperger’s/ASD1, after an expensive, in-depth, Neuropsychological Evaluation by a psychiatrist with a bachelor’s degree in Psychology, one master’s degree in Clinical Psychology, another master’s degree in Clinical & Counseling Psychology, and a doctorate (Psy.D.) in Clinical Psychology.

I spoke to a highly-credentialed expert, as an adult, to find out if I had a particular set of challenges, and it turns out I did. I have over 15 pages of detailed notes, scores, and test results that indicate a condition that is defined, recognized, and somewhat understood. It is real and it affects my daily life and everyone in my family.

That is COMPLETELY different than the children who share videos on TikTok titled: “my autistic traits that you wouldn’t think are autistic traits pt. 7” and “Things I thought were quirky but turns out it was autism.”

That is totally nutty. Actually, let’s be frank: it’s totally, f*cking batshit crazy.

We’ve reached a point in time where teenage girls with “SELF-REALIZED AUTISM IS VALID” posted in all caps in their social media bios are getting over sixteen million likes from other impressionable teens.

SELF-REALIZED AUTISM IS NOT VALID

This is stupid and dangerous. If it were just teenagers being annoying and it doesn’t hurt anybody, I really wouldn’t care at all. Diagnose yourself as a Pound Puppy or Cabbage Patch Doll for all I care.

Girls just wanna have fun, right?

But no: these aren’t goofy little jokes that don’t hurt anyone. Autism is a real word like diabetes or epilepsy. Plus, as I mentioned, RFK, Jr., a member of the U.S. President’s cabinet, is literally saying we have a public health crisis right now. That means it is not just a little harmless fun.

(Also, must I remind people that autism is correlated with a MUCH higher suicide rate? Read the CDC’s report: Recent Research Points to a Clear Conclusion: Autistic People are Thinking About, and Dying by, Suicide at High Rates. This is not a joke.)

So, part of me wants to shout back, with a satirical twist on the annoying, made-up charge of “cultural appropriation” that the woke left shouts about so frequently:

“MY DIAGNOSIS IS NOT YOUR HALLOWEEN COSTUME.”

(Ha! See? I can do this too!)

I found out that I had Asperger’s Syndrome at age 37 due to the pleading of my wife to talk to a specialist. I didn’t seek it out: I didn’t want any special attention or treatment at all. In fact, if it turned out I did have autism or Asperger’s, I had two thoughts:

1. I didn’t want to know.

2. I didn’t want anyone else to know.

I got help because I loved my wife. Not exactly against my will, but certainly not of my own doing.

I did it to save my marriage.

When I met with the psychiatrist, I wasn’t sure what to expect or think. I was somewhat afraid of the label “autistic,” partly because of the classic, antiquated mental image of a less-than-developed, nonverbal person cowering in the corner, fearful of eye contact or human touch, but also partly because I’m a parent of Gen-Z teenagers. I know that today’s image of an “autistic” person is the crazy teen girl on Tik-Tok with a shaved head or neon-blue hair and 17 piercings who believes “theyself” to be of a fluid sexuality and a non-binary/non-conforming gender.

He/She/They become internet famous for showing off bizarre forms of tics and “stimming” behaviors that are extremely obnoxious.

But guess what? Toss in a little autism, and VOILA! Now they’re not being obnoxious—they just have autism! (…and ADHD. …and PTSD. …and OCD. …and Tourette’s Syndrome. …and…)

To these people, autism is just one of many suffixes to tack onto the end of their name like a terminal degree in medicine.

I may not be Ron Stauffer, PhD, or Ron Stauffer, M.D., but I can be Ron Stauffer, ADHD, Ron Stauffer, ASD-1, or even Ron Stauffer, AuDHD.

This is absurd. MAKE IT STOP.

It’s made more absurd by the fact that these videos aren’t just shared as an FYI.

It is not: “I have autism, that’s why I’m weird.”

It is: “I took an online quiz and I picked the color that said I’m autistic. If you feel like this, you may be autistic too!”

Social contagion at its finest (or worst?), shared freely with the most vulnerable.

I don’t want to be associated with that at all.

A lot of people don’t. I’m willing to bet many or most people who actually have autism don’t.

A few months after I met with the psychiatrist, I actually did visit an autism support group. You know what I found? In general, quiet people. Introverts.

People who would never put themselves on a camera and loudly share their weird quirks for clicks. People who struggled for years with embarrassment and were coming to terms with their challenges, and were looking for coping skills to have as normal a life as possible.

“I just like having a name for it,” one man in his 50s told me. “When I was growing up, everyone just called us ‘retards,’ and I didn’t like that.”

I think that is a reasonable response, and one more in line with what the majority of people who actually have autism think.

#4: Changing “Asperger’s Syndrome” to “ASD Level 1” was a big mistake in labeling

Lumping in Asperger’s Syndrome with ASD, I think, was a huge mistake.

(A quick history for the uninitiated: the American Psychological Association (APA) publishes THE book on mental health conditions, called the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, or “The DSM.” When the fifth edition (DSM-5) came out in 2013, it completely changed the definition of autism to a spectrum disorder that now included Asperger’s Syndrome as a subcategory: “Level 1” of three levels.)

Now, I’m no fan of organizations like the APA. Similar to the AMA, it’s a big, highly political organization “masking” (heh—autism joke there) as an apolitical organization.

For proof: many sexual behaviors were listed in the DSM as manifestations of mental disorders but were eventually removed, not due to what we’d think of as a result of “hard science,” but political pressure and the prevailing winds of cultural change.

But the truth is, the APA and its DSM set the stage for these discussions nationally. So, whether or not you like the APA or their recent recategorization of terms, they’re the ones calling the shots in the national (and even global) conversation, and they also define the terms.

This recent move, though, has left many people with Asperger’s Syndrome caught high and dry: “What about us?” they wonder. “We don’t get a term anymore? What are we, chopped liver?”

Here’s the thing: Asperger’s Syndrome is real. I don’t know that anybody disputes that. But the question “Is Asperger’s Syndrome actually autism or not?” is one I’ve heard from multiple people now, and I think it’s unsettled.

The APA simply saying “Yes, it is, let’s move on now,” is clearly not good enough—there’s too much pushback, for good reason.

When I was growing up, Jeremy, one of the boys in my church youth group, had an older brother who was profoundly nonverbal. He kept his eyes mostly closed, had a hunched back, wore an NHL goalie’s helmet at all times, and had to be led around by the hand. Sometimes, he would bleat out sounds like Chewbacca while banging his head on the table or beating his chest with his arm. I don’t know for sure, but I’m going to guess he had Autism Level 3.

Do I have anything in common with him? Does Elon Musk (also diagnosed with Asperger’s/ASD1) have just as much in common with Jeremy’s older brother as he does with Temple Grandin? I doubt it. So that classification doesn’t make much sense.

As Dr. Spier notes, taking a standalone diagnosis of “high-IQ individuals with no language delays but poor social functioning,” and lumping that into the same category as nonverbal people who need a hockey mask to keep from bruising their face is clearly… not a good idea.

I hope this changes soon, if only for the simple fact that it may be contributing to artificially inflated “autism rates.”

#5: There’s not a real “spectrum” in Autism Spectrum Disorder

One of the more annoying things about people who talk about “the spectrum” is that they’ll say, “We’re all on the spectrum.”

This is revealing, as it shows just how poorly people are understanding the term.

The term “spectrum” in this case does not mean: “a spectrum from 0-100 that includes all humans.” This is entirely incorrect.

This spectrum is not like a continuum, where everyone has a certain amount of energy in their personality and you simply determine whether you’re an introvert or extrovert, and everyone falls somewhere on one side or the other (or in between).

No: it’s much more binary.

It’s more like having cancer. You either have cancer or you don’t.

If you don’t have it, you don’t have it.

If you do have it, only then does the next question apply: “Where, on the spectrum, do you measure?” With autism, it’s Level 1, 2, or 3; with cancer, it’s Stage 1, 2, 3, or 4.

I’ve also heard the phrase “everyone’s a little autistic” as well—this is also not true. Please, people, stop saying this.

Everyone does not “have a little bit of cancer.” Everyone is not a little autistic.

Stop saying: “We’re all on the spectrum.” We’re not.

Stop saying: “Everyone’s a little autistic.” They’re not.

I suppose I could quote one famous Twitter user, who likes to joke: “You're not autistic, you're just an asshole.” - Don’t let this quote apply to you.

#6: Using “autism” as an umbrella term is stupid

In politics, it’s arguably good to have a “big tent party,” where a lot of people are welcome. But being big tent also runs the risk of your tent being so big that your membership becomes a bizarre grab bag of misfits with various and sundry special interests and pet projects to the point where it doesn’t stand for anything anymore.

In American politics, that’s what happened to the Whigs in the 1850s: their only reason for even existing became solely as a force to counter the Democratic Party. That’s it.

That wasn’t enough, so poof! the party imploded. Then came along the Anti-Slavery Republican Party, which actually stood for something (even if it was only one thing, it was one BIG thing).

If autism becomes nothing more than a catch-all term to describe any odd person and all social misfits, it loses its meaning and purpose. This is bad.

I might even say: “It’s called autism, not odd-ism.” (Please clap.)

Autism should mean something. Asperger’s Syndrome should mean something.

An umbrella term that includes too many things doesn’t mean anything.

Right now, it seems “The Autism Spectrum” can mean “anything and everything, including ‘classic’ autism of varying degrees of severity and also Asperger’s Syndrome.”

That’s loony.

I don’t know what this means for me since I guess I’m suggesting “Asperger’s isn’t really autism,” but I don’t make the rules for this: the APA does, so here we are now.

What I’m also saying, though, is that it was stupid to decide to call autism a “spectrum disorder” because of its obvious fatal flaw: an umbrella big enough to mean everything by its nature, also means nothing.

#7: When everyone’s autistic, no one is

In the end, I think Syndrome, the anti-hero in the Pixar film The Incredibles, sums it up better than I can:

“...when everyone’s super, no one will be.”

That’s profound. And it’s true.

The same applies here. When everyone’s autistic, no one will be. But being autistic isn’t “super,” and it shouldn’t be looked at that way. That’s a grotesque misunderstanding of what it actually is.

I have written about “Heroes of Autism” before. Some of them are characters in movies (like Forrest Gump) who can inspire people with autism or Asperger’s, but that’s in spite of their challenges, not because of them.

Also, in The Incredibles, if you rewind a few seconds before Syndrome’s warning above, he says something even more ominous, which really sets the stage. Here’s his full quote, in context:

“I’ll give them heroics. I'll give them the most spectacular heroics anyone's ever seen! And when I'm old and I've had my fun, I'll sell my inventions so that everyone can be superheroes. Everyone can be super! …and when everyone’s super, no one will be.”

Can I say something without everyone getting mad?

Can I suggest that a great deal of this autistic nonsense is due to a need for theatrics?

I am afraid the autism label has been co-opted by the kids in the drama department—and it’s being helped along by unqualified influencers who thrive on “spectacular heroics,” and an industry eager to have its fun and sell its inventions to make everyone feel special.

In doing so, they’ve turned autism into a kind of superhero costume—abandoning the people who actually need help, and turning the diagnosis, the misdiagnosis, and the self-diagnosis of Autism Spectrum Disorder into a syndrome all its own.

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