Note to (some) politicians: Autism is not new and does not need to be cured
During a recent discussion on a Sinn Féin motion on special education, Deputy Danny Healy-Rae stood up in the Dáil and began: “Minister, it seems to me that autism and many of these complex needs are on the increase – we need to do more to find out what is causing it.”
“A lack of vitamins?”, he suggested.
As it happens, his sentiments were echoed on the international stage just days later, when, across the water, US President Donald Trump stood in front of the world’s media and declared with confidence that pregnant women using paracetamol was a leading cause of autism in children. The claim was delivered alongside a push for research purporting to find a possible ‘cure’.
Healy-Rae, Trump, and the smattering of other politicians who have made similar comments in the recent past, have been consistent in delivering the same type of rhetoric around autism; one that talks about finding a cause and a cure in the hopes of tackling its ‘increase’. In that pursuit, they’re right in identifying one thing, if nothing else – we are indeed seeing a rise in diagnoses.
The ensuing question is, of course, ‘Why?’. Perhaps Healy-Rae thought that was the question he was asking when he addressed the Dáil, saying, “Is there something causing it – a lack of some vitamins, or what is it?”. But really, he is asking a different question, the wrong one.
What these politicians are asking, in their tunnel-vision approach to uncovering autism’s cause and cure, is, “What is making more people autistic?”. This question is reliant on a couple of incorrect assumptions, one key one being that a rise in diagnoses doesn’t necessarily imply a rise in autistic people.
What is ‘causing’ the increase is not some mysterious new environmental factor, nor a missing vitamin, nor painkillers taken during pregnancy ‘turning’ people autistic. The actual driver is a growing awareness and understanding of autism, coupled with updated diagnostic criteria and better access to assessment. In other words, the ‘increase’ we’re seeing is reflective of society finally beginning to recognise the autistic people who have always been here.
Autism is not new just because it is to you
“When I was going to school”, Healy-Rae told the Dáil, “it didn’t seem to be an issue at all at that time – very few anyway.”
Healy-Rae, who would’ve done the bulk of his schooling during the 1960s, doesn’t consider that his observation might not be evidence autism was rarer at that time, but rather that the autistic people around him were going unrecognised. Many were there, sitting in the same classrooms, being misunderstood, punished, or labelled in other ways. Many grew up without the language or supports available today, not understanding why they felt so ‘other’. Many were left to navigate a world not built for them, ‘masking’ for others’ comfort while struggling in private.
The oft-cited example is that of autistic women, who for decades have been overlooked because of ASD’s male-centric diagnostic mould, as well as societal attitudes. Early autism research was almost entirely based on boys, and diagnostic criteria was written around male presentations. Where an autistic boy might have been flagged for being ‘different’ or socially withdrawn, a girl in the same position might simply have been called ‘quiet,’ ‘shy,’ or ‘sensitive’ – and indeed praised for being so, for fitting into cultural expectations that young women should be polite, compliant, and well-behaved.
This invisibility isn’t confined to women and girls. Generations of autistic people have slipped through the cracks because their traits didn’t fit the narrow stereotypes of what autism was thought to look like, and if their differing neurotype was in any way alluded to, it was euphemistically: “He’s a bit touched”, “She’s away with the fairies.”
For those ‘very few’ autistic people who did present as ‘issue’ cases for neurotypical society, the response was rarely supportive. Too often, they were institutionalised, hidden from view, ostracised, or pushed through school systems that punished difference rather than accommodating it. Reactions that today might be understood as sensory overload or communication difficulty was instead labelled as ‘bad behaviour’ in need of addressing. The solution, in the eyes of many, was shunning or disciplining – not understanding. And this idea of combating autism, as opposed to meeting autistic people where they are, continues today in the recent rhetoric we’ve been seeing.
The misguided pursuit of a ‘cause’ and ‘cure’
Suggesting autism is linked to things like painkillers or vitamin deficiencies is just the latest in a long line of unfounded claims about the ‘cause’ of ASD – which, in reality, is a natural variation in how human brains can be wired, a neurodevelopmental condition for which genetics is the sole reliable predictor of.
Perhaps most infamous is Andrew Wakefield’s 1998 paper linking the MMR vaccine to autism, which was later fully retracted as fraudulent – though not before Wakefield succeeded in profiting from his own misinformation by undermining the combined MMR with his own vaccine. Nevertheless, despite being entirely discredited, the myth Wakefield coined never managed to fully die down – the same narrative reared its head during the pandemic’s anti-vax resurgence and echoes today through Healy-Rae and Trump’s comments about “finding out what is causing” ASD.
The danger in chasing a mythical ‘cure’ is that it diverts attention, funding, and policy away from what truly matters: ensuring autistic people have access to the supports, services, and accommodations they need. It frames autism as a problem to be eradicated rather than a natural variation of human neurology.
Autistic people don’t need fixing. They need acceptance, inclusion, and respect. The language of ‘cause’ and ‘cure’ fuels stigma, and risks silencing truly productive conversation around ASD and the needs of those on all points of the autistic spectrum.
Instead of wasting energy on pseudo-scientific causes, our leaders should be focusing on practical issues – ensuring adequate special education provision, funding therapies and supports that actually improve quality of life, reducing waiting lists for diagnosis, and listening to autistic voices in policy-making.
The rise in diagnoses isn’t evidence of a modern epidemic that needs tackling. It is evidence of long-overdue recognition. Autism isn’t new – it has always been here. What is new is the possibility of a society that sees, hears, and values autistic people as they are. Rising diagnoses should be driving us towards that, not dragging us back to the pathologising attitudes of Healy-Rae’s schooldays – the ones that failed so many already.
