[Disclosure: I am mentioned in this book]

With a deft and gentle hand Steve Silberman has reconstructed the diaspora of autism. And it is a heartbreaking account of lost souls, misunderstood, reviled, shut down and shut away lives. Silberman has effectively proved that the people we see now, up and down the spectrum, have indeed always been here, but because there was so little understanding of what to do with the “feebleminded,” as they were called, the “useless eaters,” the sick and irrevocably strange and different were sent away to institutions or languished at home or worse. Anyone with even a little autism was thought to be mentally deranged, broken. There was no cultural belief in special education, no awareness of how human minds can be taught just about anything. There had to be an evolution, centuries, millenia-long, before people understood that these beings are every bit as human as the rest of society, and thereby able to learn, grow, adjust, work, and be part of Us.

Silberman says, “In an eerie preview of the autism ‘epidemic’ to come four decades later, the prevalence of childhood schizophrenia started spiking in the midtwentieth century.” Just as we had an onslaught of people with ADHD when we first discovered it — and it became the diagnosis of the 90′s — just as bipolar is right now — childhood schizophrenia was one very popular explanation for people who were actually on the autism spectrum. That accounts for the deeply-involved, most disabled autistics.

And these were the people whose families were educated and well-off enough to even know to bring them to the few psychiatrists in the country at that time. Silberman finds that French physician Edouard Seguin coined the term ‘idiot savant’ as far back as 1869. Seguin wrote,“It is from this class, almost exclusively, that we have musical, mathematical, architectural, and other varieties of the idiot savant; the useless protrusion of a single faculty, accompanied by a woeful general impotence.” The real hero in the book, Hans Asperger, though practicing in the early 20th century, put this in a humane, 21st century light: “Autistic children have the ability to see things and events around them from a new point of view, which often shows surprising maturity. This ability, which remains throughout life, can in favorable cases lead to exceptional achievements which others may never attain. Abstraction ability, for instance, is a prerequisite for scientific endeavor. Indeed, we find numerous autistic individuals among distinguished scientists.” This was almost 100 years ago. This accounts for the Asperger types, the splinter skills.

Think about it. A child who presented as odd, to the point of not being able to talk until he was around five, and then, after that, presented as so strange, so unaware of or unskilled around others — Temple Grandin comes to mind — with no precedent of what speech therapy, sensory integration therapy, etc., could achieve — the common thing was to give up on this child. So even the “higher-functioning” would have been put away. Yes, there were many many institutions back then. More than you realize. And what happened there? They likely became worse, thereby proving the doctors “right.” Crowded into rooms without pants on and hosed off when they defecated. Things like that. Some of these people of course ended up in jail. Some — well, it’s too horrible to contemplate what a cruel, ignorant family might have done.

The Nazis exterminated the disabled first, before they got to the elderly or the Jews. No, we did not send our monsters to the gas chambers, but we did treat them abominably. They were mistakes, burdens, disgusting, useless, scary.

Without education, and without understanding the potential of people with autism, it would have taken a remarkably unique person (like Hans Asperger) to feel anything but fear and shame. About Asperger, Silberman says, “He christened this distinctive cluster of aptitudes, skills, attitudes, and abilities autistic intelligence, making the bold suggestion that autistic people have played an unappreciated role in the evolution of culture:

‘It seems that for success in science and art, a dash of autism is essential. For success, the necessary ingredient may be an ability to turn away from the everyday world, from the simply practical, an ability to re-think a subject with originality so as to create in new untrodden ways.’

The autistics have always been here. We just did not see them, and if we did, God help them. Now we see them. They aren’t sent away, hidden, cast out. They are sent to school. They are trying to get work, any work, for at least minimum wage.

The real Autism Tsunami? The real disaster? That we don’t have enough funding for all of these very different but very worthwhile people to live productively after high school. The real puzzle? When are we going to wake up, treasure difference, and learn from it?

This book made me cry, and deeply. It may be impossible to describe adequately why this book is so good, even as it is so to describe why people with autism are, without knowing us. Still, of all the books I've read on this topic, this is the best.

Even though it is reasonably impossible to do so with any level of appropriateness to the depth of his accomplishment in the writing of this book, I must thank Steve Silberman for this highly compassionate and comprehensive account of the history of what in many ways could be said to be my own 'race'; a race even more invisible than Ralph Ellison's Invisible Man, since my race is not divided by any simplistic or obvious trait.

In a world preoccupied with surfaces and mirrors, the race of people I belong to must be known only in compassion, by way of un-intrusive study, reflection and observation; indeed, we can only be known by the very qualities which we ourselves possess; to a degree scarcely known by the violence of various idealisms, divisive thinking and ever-quickening societal change.

It is a history that is PROFOUNDLY moving in the way that a thing can only be once it is known that it exists at all, as if for the first time. It is as if centuries of human progress and profound insight has been revealed before me, by my own extended hands, and by my own extended consciousness, across time and space. Indeed, it is so moving because it is as if Silberman was allowing me to understand that I was Dirac and Cavendish reincarnated, having never heard of either before, and in his words and descriptions discovering a long lost family to which I belong; never having belonged before...

Indeed, I also cried because it is astounding to hear stories of compassion and understanding extended to and revealed by my long-lost tribe members in the patient understandings of their teachers, doctors and parents; none of which I have experienced myself, since my family are entirely unaware of their own inherited Autism (and thus their lack of understanding both for themselves or me). I brought these facts up to them, only to have it largely denied.

One particular scene described in the book about the caring of a family to show their child an advance preview of the experience of visiting the dentist will remain permanently etched in my mind, such is the gulf between the experience of compassion and caring described in this book and between this scene and my own personal experience.

Throughout the book, the sheer beauty of what it is like to experience life in the ways I do is expressed in a way that validates the lives of all inward-focused people everywhere. Some, like Henry Cavendish, lived lives in profoundly positive circumstances (being wealthy and having a father who appropriately focused the mind of his son, to the lasting benefit of all), such that in Cavendish, one can see an example of what I think nearly all the Asperger's (this is certainly true of myself) tribe would (and do) strive for, given the chance. I am shocked to learn about examples of my fellow brothers-in-mind, and feel as though the hidden and mysterious history of the modern world has been shown to me in a map of my own heart, written in the hands of Steve Silberman, a proxy for my long-dead brethren, and for myself.

The service provided by such a history will ever be with me, now. I would hope that anyone with autism would read this deeply wonderful book, and I would hope anyone who is taking an idealistic stance against autism or regards people with autistic in such a violent way would read this book and know that you have to spend time getting to know us. We know you better than you can imagine, and we experience things more deeply than you can know.

Nature abhors a vacuum, it is said, and by removing ourselves into quiet, consistent lives, we are able to reveal larger truths about the nature of the world around us. This is both a history of the traits of people doing this, and I believe could be an insight and a history into how truth itself is revealed to human beings in general.

Steve Silberman is a journalist and writer for WIRED magazine who has written many readable stories on medicine and human health. In this book he brings many years of reporting and training to delve upon one of the most prominent health issues of our time – autism.

Silberman’s book is rich in both human and scientific detail and shines in three aspects. Firstly, he meticulously traces the history of autism and the lives of the neurologists, psychologists and doctors who chased its elusive identity. He focuses especially on two psychologists, Leo Kanner in the United States and Hans Asperger in Nazi-controlled Vienna who identified the syndrome and pioneered its study through observations on hundreds of cases. Asperger was the first one to identify a variety of signs and symptoms that contribute to what we now call autism spectrum disorder, and his studies were expansive and nuanced. Silberman’s account of both the foibles and the triumphs of these two individuals is fascinating: while Kanner’s fault was in assigning the blame for autism to parents (he coined the phrase "refrigerator mother") and focusing on children, Asperger identified mostly high-functioning autistic savants in his publications for a chilling reason – so that the lower functioning cases could avoid the ghastly fate met by victims of the Nazis’ euthanasia program which aimed at eliminating “mentally feeble” individuals. Both Kenner and Asperger meant well, and in Asperger’s case his withholding of the identities of autistic people literally meant the difference between life and death.

And yet as Silberman so adeptly demonstrates, this was one of those cases where the intentions of humane and well-meaning researchers actually caused harm to public perceptions of the syndrome. Kanner and Asperger’s story is an instructive lesson in both the vagaries of scientific discovery and human nature and the sometimes unfortunate intersection of science with politics. The selective reporting of high-functioning patients in case of Asperger and children in case of Kanner led to a massive underreporting of autistic cases and the creation of a guilt complex among parents. It also led to a delay in the recognition of autism as a spectrum of disorders (Autism Spectrum Disorders) rather than a narrowly defined condition. It wasn't until 1981 that English researcher Lorna Wing finally publicized Asperger's wide ranging observations; and it wasn't until 1991 before German researcher Uta Frith finally translated his work.

Encouraged by Wing's work, when the diagnostic manual DSM-III-R finally classified autism as a widespread and bonafide syndrome with a textured and wide-ranging spread of symptoms and issues, Kanner and Asperger’s inadvertent underreporting of cases led everyone to believe that there was a sudden ‘epidemic’ of autism, a belief that triggered even more soul-searching and the assignment of cause and effect to all kinds of environmental variables including vaccines. Much of the media with its emphasis on sensationalism and simplistic explanations at the expense of subtlety and complexity did not help matters, although ironically as Silberman tells us, it was a movie - "Rainman" - that brought a lot of public attention to autism. It is in the second half of the book that Silberman sternly clamps down on fraudulent claims of connections between autism and vaccination, including the retracted work published by Andrew Wakefield.

Finally, Silberman’s detailed account draws up wonderful and sometimes very moving portraits of families and individuals affected by autism. Also included are capsule portraits of famous people with autism and Asperger's syndrome like Nikola Tesla and Temple Grandin. Silberman makes it clear that such people defy easy classification, and we do them and ourselves a disservice when we stereotype and bin them into discrete categories. He interviews hundreds of people who are stricken by the syndrome and tells us the stories of both adults and children who first struggled to cope with the disease and then found solace in meeting similar people and connecting with support networks. He also profiles families from a remarkably wide cross-section of society – from people living below the poverty line to wealthy California families - who are convinced by unverified connections between the environment and autism. Silberman does not agree with them, but he empathizes with their concerns and tries to understand them. Fortunately the stigma associated with autism spectrum disorders is gradually giving way to a more subtle understanding, but as Silberman indicates there is still a long way to go. As the title puts it, his plea is for a world that appreciates neurodiversity; the fact that even people regarded as psychologically different can have very important and valuable perspectives to offer.

If I had some minor gripes with the book, they were with the sometimes long-winded digressions on the lives of autism researchers and patients and the relative lack of discussion of cutting-edge biomedical and neurological research on the topic, including work from genomics and drug discovery. But these are minor gripes. Silberman has painted a rich, empathetic portrait of a devastating, baffling but ultimately comprehensible disorder and its history which we all owe ourselves to appreciate. Because ultimately, as the central message of this book reveals, the cure for autism is in understanding and empathy. The cure lies in human nature itself.

The author, Steve Silberman, is a reporter who has written a meticulous history of autism, from earliest clinical observations in the 1930's to the present. His writing style, even though he presents a vast collection of material, keeps a reader engaged and entertained. He has documented efforts to search for possible causes or cures, personal case histories of families and autistic children, the groups founded to advance the study of autism, and the present state of accomodations availabe to help autistic individuals adjust to a "normal" lifestyle. To a person with autism, "normal" people are the abnormal ones, because they often act in a manner that they find unpredictable or unreasonable. Silberman shows that autism is not a modern phenomenon, and is not a disease or even a deficit, but a result of differences in the "wiring," or neurodiversity, of human brains that has appeared in human cultures throughout history. Fascinating examples show individuals who were accepted as "eccentrics" or managed to work in isolation, and resulted in discoveries that dynamically advanced the progress of civilization. Hans Asberger was the first to conduct scientific studies of autistic individuals, in the Germany of the 1930's. If his conclusions had been universally adopted then, they could have saved half a century of wasted efforts (documented here) to combat autism. At the time Asberger stated, "Our therapeutic goal must be to teach the person how to bear their difficulties. Not to eliminate them for him, but to train the person to cope with special challenges with special strategies; to make the person aware not that they are ill, but that they are responsible for their lives." Asberger's theories, based on logic and experience, were tragically ignored and forgotten, casualties of presumed association with Hitler, Naziism and policies of eugenics. Only within the recent past has the validity of Asberger's conclusions been recognized and applied. Powerful groups persist in searching for causes of, or cures for, autism, but in this book neurodiversity is shown to be a valuable element that has advanced civilization. There is much fascinating material here, including applications of what has been learned, but it is interesting to note that the special gifts of many autistic individuals give them an advantage in the web-connected world of today. This is finally a civilization in which they can excel: they can communicate, share knowledge, and enjoy learning with their peers through machines, avoiding the discomforts of personal contact. Anyone who wants to better understand autism will find the most current and complete understanding of all its aspects in this book.

I recently found out at age 31 that I am on the autism spectrum. I say "found out," but really, it was more like putting a word to something I'd known all my life: My neurological layout differs from that of almost everyone around me.

I sense differently, and more intensely. Sound is louder, and I can hear higher pitches. Light is brighter. Smells are more intense. Due (I think) to their increased intensity, I process audio and visual stimuli more slowly, and it takes me longer to react. As a result, my short term, or "working," memory is terrible, but my long term memory seems to be better than average. I can sense the feelings of those around me, but not always understand why they feel they way they do. I do not usually know what others are thinking, nor do they know what I'm thinking. Others usually cannot sense my feelings, nor read my facial expressions. The same goes for body language. It's very rare that I meet someone broadcasting (and receiving) on the same wavelength.

I am (and have always been) a huge bookworm, so my diagnostician suggested I look into some books on the subject of autism. I picked up NeuroTribes as a starting point. It was quite the page-turner! I tore through it in about three days.

What this book is:

- A history of autism, the clinical standards used to diagnose it, and its classification(s)

- A qualitative look at the lives of individual autistic people and parents of autistic children

- An overview of autistic contributions to science, technology, and culture throughout history (but especially in the Information Age)

- Insight into the general neurotypical point-of-view regarding autistic people and autism

- A roadmap to guide neurotypical understanding of autistic thought processes

What this book is *not*:

- A how-to guide on making autistic people more neurotypical, or even making us *appear* more neurotypical

- A pity party for those neurotypicals who imagine it worse to live and work alongside autistic people than to actually deal with the effects of being autistic in a world not made for us

- Eugenics propaganda

If you want advice on making autistic people more "normal," or on reducing/removing our presence in the population, then this book is not for you. I should note here that the author of this book is *not* autistic, just very open-minded.

If, however, you seek to understand the growing population of autistic people (much as we must seek constantly to understand neurotypicals), then I think you will find this an engaging and enlightening read. I know I did.

My son, at the age of 31, last year was diagnosed with being on the Asperger's spectrum after a 5 hour evaluation by the Army. I was asked by the neuropsychiatrist if I had ever been told that he was on the spectrum. I said no, but he had been diagnosed with a learning disability while in school.

He is very bright, but never had much in the way of friends growing up. Always social awkward. My husband and I knew he was 'different' and worked with several psychologist to get him integrated as much as possible. (Did not help that he had an abusive 4th grade teacher that we spent years trying to reverse those consequences).

But through it all we let him know he was loved. As a nurse (with a nurse friend with a son who is lower on the Spectrum and not as functional) I was aware of Asperger's, but did not feel that related to my son. He works, went to college and got a degree and was in the Army (survived Iraq but with some PTSD - hence the eval). But once he got the diagnosis, I was really trying to understand the impact with him. He stated he felt relieved to understand finally why he was different.

This book really opened my eyes. And made me understand why he could not get a better job. He has failed repeatedly at job interviews. I understand now, that some of those with Asperger's feel it is painful to look someone in the eye. And not know the socially acceptable response to a question asked (my son has a twisted sense of humor - but not appreciated during an interview.)

However, he like many others have some unique skills when it comes to computers and being able to look for errors in code for example. He has been turned down for numerous jobs because he can't get through the front door. Not him alone, have had this issue according to the author.

If HR personnel would read this book and see if the interview techniques they use are really a good way to get the right skills for the position they are looking for, you could fill a lot of the high tech jobs that are out there with qualified people.

I highly recommend this book. It will change the way you think about others you meet in your day-to-day life.

I teach courses in disability studies at Davidson College, and I found this book amazing on several levels. First, it's just beautifully written, opening with the story of an eighteenth-century scientist and framing his story as an autism narrative. What that does, however, is suggest from the beginning the visionary and different quality of this book: it is about claiming a history for autism, and for autistic people as a community. It situates the history of autism within medical history, but also--and critically--within social history. And there is some critical history to be foregrounded, such as the idea that Hans Asperger's ideas laid an important basis for accepting autism as a kind of neurodiversity--itself an even more important notion when we remember, as Silberman reminds us, that Asperger was doing this against the tide of eugenicist thinking perpetrated by Nazism and used to justify genocide. Silberman's book interweaves stories of autistic people and their familiies throughout history, and empathetically but clearly shows why the emphasis on cure has had such damaging effects. Instead, his work encourages us to understand disability as difference, and autism as a source of creativity and neurodiversity that our modern world would be a different--and lesser--place without. It's important to note that he does not romanticize how difficult things can be for autistic people and caregivers. But as he points out, that has so much more to do with lack of social supports and resources than it does with the actual embodiments of autistic people. The emphasis on cure has cost us so much--what could an emphasis on embracing neurodiversity bring us as a society, instead? This is what we disability studies scholars call "disability gain," and this book invites us to imagine it beautifully. I found it moving, smart, engaging, sensitive, forthright, and a critical work of disability history and justice. It's refreshing to see a work that reminds us that disability is about human variation--not personal "tragedy"--and that cure is not always the ideal, despite our society's emphasis on normalcy.

This book is a page turning, edge of your seat history of the gradual "ah-ha!" moments (and gut wrenching setbacks) of the last 90 years struggle to recognize that not all brains work the same way. As a person with a decidedly "different" brain (I'm a 57 year old college professor who has wondered for years if some of my very odd learning deficits/abilities might somehow be related to Autism) I've been wanting to learn more on this topic for a while, and been rather put off by a lot of the online information and books I've previewed. Too often the other sources of information either assume a lot of familiarity with the topic, are "cure" fantasizing, or simply dull. In contrast this book weaves together stories of hundreds of interesting people from the inspiring, to comic to deplorable. Some of these "characters" from recent history manage, like real humans, to be a bit of all these things, in ways that show not only the author's humanistic understanding of the struggles of the autistic persons profiled, but of the various doctors and parents, who even when doing things now known to be "wrong" for their patients, are usually clearly, in their time, trying to do what they imagine to be right for their patients or children.

Silberman gathers all these hundreds of stories together in a gripping style that pulls you into each individual story, while blending the experiences of each together in both the way it happens in life (a researcher you read about in one section, shows up years later, in another person's story) or in making connections of experience from a patient in 1930s Austria, to a patient in 1960s America. He takes all the threads of these sometimes harrowing stories and pulls them together, while meanwhile luring you onward towards the present understanding of these issues, and a hopeful hint of future improvements in embracing and understanding neurodiversity.

I'm only half way through this book, and I'm already finding it useful in grasping things about many of my students, and most certainly about my self. I'm so hooked by this book, I didn't even wait to finish before writing this. I want to encourage anyone and everyone to read this book.

Neurotribes: The Legacy of Autism and How to Think Smarter About People Who Think Differently This book has got to be one of the most well researched and balanced explorations of autism I have ever come across.

It is written more like a novel so it engages you at every turn of the page, with case study after case study. It explores the history of autism of how it was originally recognised and how it's diagnosis has changed over several decades - so it becomes obvious why far more people are diagnosed with autism now as compared to 30 years ago.

It explores the different methods that have been used over the years to "treat" or approach autism as well as exploring the history of changing claims to its causes that range from bad parenting to vaccines and a whole load more.

For me as a parent of 2 children on this spectrum, the exploration of a few examples of highly accomplished historic figures that displayed all the characteristics of what would be today diagnosed as being on the autistic spectrum, such as Henry Cavendish, gave a broader picture of the autistic story, especially when Cavendish lived way before the phrase autism was coined or MMR vaccines were used.

There appears to be so many one-sided accounts relating to autism, that have a bias in one direction or another, but this book gives such a balanced overview and account. The exploration of the lives of parents of autistic children and the challenges that they face and the things they tried to deal with them has made me feel far less lost in my daily routines with my kids.

I don't feel I need to blame vaccines or bad parenting. I feel far more awakened to the possibilities and the breadth of wonderfulness my children possess and feel armed with various levels of insight into ways in which I can support them in developing their natural talents and celebrating their differences.

I am very thankful to Steve Silberman for putting so much research into a book and writing in such an accessible and engaging manner.

This book is a must read for anyone interested in autism and even more so for parents or grandparent to kids that appear to be on the autistic spectrum.

Amazing book

Books about autism or autistic people that have been written by a non-autistic author are rarely worth being read. This book is one of the very rare exceptions to this rule. Steve Silberman explains well how many misconceptions about autism were established and how some of them have been able to persist across many decades, right into the present.

However, the book does not stop there. It also introduces the concept of neurodiversity, which might well be the most important change in how we think about autism that has been introduced in the past decades, and it explains how neurodiversity is connected to and fits into the wider scheme of the disability rights movement.

Most importantly, this book amplifies the voices of autistic people instead of only repeating the narratives established by so-called “autism experts”. While the perspective on the early history is inevitably dominated by citing such “experts”, the book also explores the first developments of self-advocacy and shows how these efforts have rightfully gained more traction over time.

In summary, I can wholeheartedly recommend this book to everyone, whether they are autistic or allistic.

A Great read, which will open up realms of understanding we never knew possible, not just

with regard to autists but also towards and among all human-folk in all our variant forms; and

may it help us all to improve our sensibilities, attitudes & communicational skills in everyday life.

Progressive thinkers, get this !

Um livro que todas as pessoas neurodivergentes ou não deveriam ler! Uma aula de história e um conforto para pais e para pessoas neurodivergentes que derruba mitos e esclarece potencialidades que infelizmente até hoje são subestimadas por pessoas que não conseguem enxergar além do preconceito. Super recomendo.