Autism interventions have long been shaped by the belief that autistic traits are barriers to success—traits to be minimized, masked, or trained out. This model, rooted in a desire to help autistic individuals "fit in," has often prioritized conformity over authentic support. As a result, many widely used approaches, such as behavioral therapy and eye contact training, may inadvertently reinforce stigma rather than reduce it. The article “It Is Time to Remove Stigma from Autism Interventions” calls for a fundamental shift in how we view and structure autism support, emphasizing the need for neurodiversity-affirming practices that honor, rather than suppress, autistic identity. This perspective is especially relevant as awareness grows around autism masking, mental health risks, and the diversity of communication styles within the autistic community.

One of the most common early interventions, eye contact training, illustrates the problem. In many cultures, eye contact is seen as a sign of attentiveness or respect, and so children in behavioral therapy programs are often taught to maintain it. Yet, as the author points out, eye contact norms vary across cultures and individuals. For some autistic people, making eye contact can be overstimulating or distracting. Research cited in the article suggests that eye contact is more likely to occur naturally when a person feels safe and accepted. Forcing eye contact, then, may not only be ineffective but also counterproductive—undermining the very connections it aims to foster.

What struck me most was the way the article links these interventions to deeper emotional consequences. When children are taught that their natural behaviors—such as hand flapping, avoiding eye contact, or using nonverbal communication—are wrong, they may internalize the belief that they are broken. Over time, this can lead to masking, where autistic individuals hide their traits to appear neurotypical. While masking can help someone navigate certain social settings, it often comes at a cost. Studies referenced in the article associate masking with increased rates of anxiety, depression, and even suicidality among autistic adults. These findings underscore the importance of rethinking our goals: Are we helping autistic people thrive, or just helping them appear less autistic?

The article also addresses communication-based interventions, particularly the use of augmentative and alternative communication (AAC) devices. These tools, including letter boards and tablets, can be essential for individuals who do not communicate through speech. However, some programs still limit access to AACs in favor of promoting spoken language. This approach reflects a broader societal bias that elevates certain communication styles over others. Research shows that removing AAC devices can actually hinder language development, further emphasizing the need to support, rather than restrict, diverse modes of expression.

Amid these critiques, the article offers a hopeful vision: one in which interventions are grounded in respect for neurodiversity. Rather than trying to "normalize" autistic behavior, support programs should focus on helping individuals develop skills aligned with their natural ways of thinking, sensing, and communicating. For example, instead of teaching a child to suppress stimming behaviors, we might explore what those behaviors communicate and how they help the child regulate sensory input. Instead of insisting on eye contact, we might teach peers and educators to recognize other signs of engagement and connection.

Importantly, the article does not deny that being autistic can come with challenges. Sensory overload, communication barriers, and social misunderstandings are real and often difficult. But these challenges are made harder when interventions are built on the assumption that autistic traits are inherently bad. The author urges professionals and caregivers to distinguish between life skills that support well-being and those that merely enforce conformity. This includes rethinking what success looks like—not as mimicry of neurotypical norms, but as the ability to live authentically and comfortably as oneself.

Another powerful point raised is the value of helping autistic children understand themselves. Providing language and resources to describe their sensory experiences, communication preferences, and social needs can empower them to advocate for themselves. Self-understanding is a critical foundation for self-esteem and mental health. As the article notes, many autistic individuals view their traits as integral to their identity, contributing to their joy, creativity, and sense of purpose. Supporting this self-perception requires a shift away from deficit-based models and toward strengths-based, individualized approaches.

This shift is not just philosophical—it has practical implications for therapy design, educational practices, and family support. Interventions must be chosen with care, ensuring they are not driven by unconscious biases or societal expectations. Professionals are encouraged to ask: If stigma were removed from the equation, would this intervention still be necessary? Would it still be helpful? These questions can help ensure that support is truly centered on the needs and experiences of autistic individuals, rather than on making them more palatable to others.

Ultimately, the article calls for a reimagining of autism interventions—one that affirms neurodiversity, respects individual differences, and prioritizes well-being over appearance. This is not about abandoning support but about redefining what support means. By listening to autistic voices and grounding practices in empathy and evidence, we can create environments where autistic people are not just accepted, but understood and celebrated.

Read more at autismspectrumnews.org