The Myth of Resonance: How Neurotypical Communication Standards Marginalise Autistic Gestalt Processors
In recent years, the pathologisation of autistic communication has become an all-too-common narrative in both scientific and public discourse. Autistic individuals, particularly those who communicate differently from neurotypical standards, are often seen through a lens that frames their natural communication styles as deficient. A recent article from ‘The Conversation,’ which discusses the concept of “resonance” as a key feature of effective communication, exemplifies this troubling trend. In the piece, resonance—where individuals mirror and re-use words during conversation—is positioned as a diagnostic tool for autism, implying that those who do not engage in this form of communication are lacking in some way. This framing not only upholds neurotypical communication as the ideal but also marginalises autistic Gestalt Language Processors (GLPs), whose communication styles differ.
This type of article is not just confined to academic circles; it’s often shared with me in professional spaces by administrators who uncritically pass along content from outlets like ‘The Conversation.’ These pieces, absorbed without thought or critique, spread misinformation about people like me throughout the organisation I serve, reinforcing harmful stereotypes about autistic communication. The problem is that by setting resonance as the communication standard, articles like this perpetuate a narrative that something is inherently wrong with neurodivergent individuals. More insidiously, such narratives conveniently align with the interests of industries like Big Pharma, which profit from the medicalisation and pathologisation of neurodiversity, offering treatments for conditions that do not need to be “fixed” in the first place.
Resonance as a Neurotypical Communication Standard
Resonance, as defined in neurotypical (NT) communication, refers to the process of mirroring and re-using words during a conversation. It is seen as a way to signal engagement, where individuals repeat key phrases or concepts to demonstrate they are actively listening and participating. This can be as simple as responding to “Did you have a nice weekend?” with “Yes, I had a nice weekend.” In this context, resonance is framed as an essential component of ‘effective communication,’ a signal of social conformity and mutual understanding. However, this narrow definition disregards the diverse ways in which people process and express language, particularly those of GLPs.
By setting resonance as the default communication standard, as the ‘Conversation’ article does, it implicitly dismisses any communication style that does not conform to NT expectations. For GLPs, communication is often more holistic, focusing on patterns, meaning, and context rather than the word-for-word repetition that NTs value. A GLP might respond to the same question about the weekend by reflecting on an overall sensory or emotional experience rather than mirroring specific words. This doesn’t indicate a lack of engagement or creativity but rather a fundamentally different approach to processing and interacting with language. Unfortunately, the article fails to acknowledge this, reinforcing the flawed idea that only one kind of communication is legitimate.
The implications of setting resonance as the gold standard are far-reaching, particularly in systems like education. For example, resonance is deeply embedded in language tests like the ELPAC, which requires language learners to engage in this practice to demonstrate proficiency and progress toward graduation. By valuing resonance above other forms of communication, these tests and frameworks marginalise not only autistic GLPs but also a wide range of language learners who communicate differently. This narrow view dismisses the legitimacy of autistic ways of interacting and creates barriers for individuals who process language in more holistic, meaningful ways. Rather than recognising the diversity of communication styles, this approach reinforces exclusionary standards that disadvantage neurodivergent individuals.
The Pathologisation of Autistic Communication
Articles like this one from ‘The Conversation’ perpetuate the harmful narrative that autistic communication is inherently deficient, framing any deviation from neurotypical norms as something that needs to be ‘corrected.’ This is especially evident in how the article discusses autistic children’s supposed inability to engage in resonance, which it implies is a shortcoming. By positioning resonance as the only valid form of communication, the article suggests that autistic individuals—especially GLPs like me—are failing to meet an ‘expected standard.’ This view ignores the richness of autistic communication and reinforces the notion that autistic people need to be “fixed” rather than understood.
Instead of recognising GLP communication as a perfectly valid and normal way of engaging with language, the article uses it as evidence that something is “wrong” with the autistic person. GLPs process language holistically, meaning that small chunks of language can carry a wealth of meaning, emotions, sensory input, and memories all at once. A single phrase or sentence might evoke a rich tapestry of context for a GLP, much deeper than the word-for-word resonance prized in NT communication. This isn’t a sign of deficiency but of a different, equally valuable way of processing language. Yet, the article fails to capture this nuance, instead treating GLP communication as inferior simply because it doesn't align with neurotypical expectations.
The article misses a critical opportunity to be inclusive, framing these findings as diagnostic rather than celebratory of the diverse ways humans communicate. Rather than using autistic communication differences as “proof” of a problem, the piece could have acknowledged that GLPs engage with language in a unique and powerful way. This could have been framed as a discovery of another valid communication style, rather than another tool for diagnosing what's supposedly ‘wrong.’ By overlooking the value in autistic communication, the article reinforces exclusionary ideas that do a disservice to neurodivergent individuals and the wider conversation around neurodiversity.
The Conversation’s Corporate Interests
Outlets like ‘The Conversation’ often operate as more than just ‘academic platforms;’ they frequently serve the marketing interests of industries like Big Pharma by perpetuating narratives that pathologise neurodivergent individuals. In this particular article, the framing of autistic communication as deficient fits neatly into a broader pattern of presenting neurodivergence as a ‘problem to be solved’—often through pharmaceutical interventions. By focusing on what autistic individuals “lack” rather than how they communicate differently, articles like this one create fertile ground for promoting ‘treatments’ and ‘therapies’ aimed at ‘correcting’ perceived deficits. This aligns with the financial interests of pharmaceutical companies, which profit from the continued medicalisation of autism and neurodivergence.
The medicalisation of autism, where differences are seen as problems in need of fixing, is deeply problematic. Framing autistic communication as a deficit supports a system that reinforces the outdated medical model of disability, in which any deviation from the norm must be corrected or treated. This stands in stark contrast to the neurodiversity movement, which advocates for recognising and celebrating neurological differences rather than pathologising them. Articles like this one not only ignore the validity of autistic communication but also fuel a larger system that sees neurodivergent individuals as ‘broken’ rather than whole. By focusing on a neurotypical communication standard like resonance, the article fails to challenge the harmful notion that autistic individuals need to change to fit into the NT world, rather than the world adapting to include all forms of communication.
This kind of pathologisation is not just an academic oversight—it directly benefits corporate interests. Pharmaceutical companies stand to gain from creating and maintaining a market for interventions, therapies, and medications aimed at treating autism. The author of this article, despite being a university lecturer, does not demonstrate any specific expertise in gestalt processing or autism, relying instead on credentials to lend credibility to these narrow views. This is a classic example of the appeal to authority, a logical fallacy often used to obscure the fact that real understanding and lived experience are lacking. Readers should be wary of such tactics and resist falling for the narrative that only neurotypical ways of communicating are valid. Instead, we should demand a broader, more inclusive understanding of neurodivergence that supports people as they are, without the influence of corporate interests shaping the conversation.
Alternative Approaches to Understanding Neurodivergent Communication
Instead of focusing on what autistic individuals “lack,” research should adopt a strength-based framing that highlights the unique strengths of neurodivergent communication styles. For GLPs, communication is often holistic, involving complex patterns, emotions, and sensory input, all conveyed in rich but less conventional ways. These contributions can be deeply meaningful, yet they often go unrecognised by neurotypical standards, which overvalue word-for-word resonance. By failing to acknowledge this, current research and discourse miss the opportunity to celebrate how neurodivergent individuals engage with language in dynamic and valuable ways. Rather than casting autistic communication as deficient, we should be exploring how these alternative ways of processing language enrich conversations and interactions.
Moving away from the pathologisation of autistic communication requires a fundamental shift in how we understand and recognise neurodiversity. Embracing diverse communication styles, like those used by GLPs, as legitimate and valuable could transform not only our understanding of communication but also the way we interact with each other in social and educational spaces. Recognising that different doesn’t mean lesser would allow us to create environments where neurodivergent individuals feel included and validated, rather than pressured to conform to neurotypical norms. The Power Threat Meaning Framework (PTMF) provides a far more compassionate and inclusive lens through which we can understand these differences. Rather than diagnosing and treating perceived deficits, the PTMF encourages us to look at the context, experiences, and strengths of individuals, reframing differences in communication as just that—differences, not disorders.
The emotional toll of constantly receiving articles like this from administrators in my school inbox cannot be overstated. It leaves me feeling unseen, unsupported, and unvalued, as these communications perpetuate narratives that frame people like me as inherently flawed. There’s a deep sense of isolation that comes with being told, over and over again, that your way of processing and interacting with the world is wrong, especially in the very organisation you serve. Instead of sending content that reinforces stereotypes, schools should be fostering more inclusive, supportive environments where neurodivergent individuals are celebrated for who they are, not made to feel that they need to be “fixed.”
Final thoughts …
To wrap up, resonance should not be held up as the sole standard for communication, especially when doing so pathologises autistic differences and supports corporate interests rather than individuals. The narrow focus on neurotypical communication standards marginalises those who, like GLPs, engage with language in rich, meaningful, and alternative ways. By framing these differences as deficits, we uphold harmful narratives that fail to see the value in neurodivergent communication styles and feed into systems that profit from treating autism as a problem to be fixed.
It’s time to reconsider how we define communication norms and challenge the dominance of neurotypical standards that exclude and disadvantage neurodivergent individuals. Instead, we should embrace and celebrate the diversity of human expression. Autistic communication, particularly that of GLPs, offers valuable and legitimate ways of engaging with the world, and it deserves recognition as such. Only by doing so can we build a more inclusive, compassionate, and understanding society.