Outdated Views and Medicalised Language: A Critique of 'Sensory Processing Disorder in Autism'
As an autistic adult and educator, I've spent years navigating the complex terrain of sensory processing, both personally and professionally. This experience gives me a unique perspective on the challenges and nuances that come with sensory processing differences, particularly in the classroom setting. When I came across a recent article on Sensory Processing Disorder (SPD) in autistic individuals, I was struck by the outdated research and medicalised language that permeated the piece. Whilst the article purports to offer insights into the intersection of autism and sensory processing, it quickly becomes evident that it lacks the depth and authenticity that comes from lived experience. What’s more, the timing of this article’s release is suspiciously close to the launch of the publisher’s new “Board Certification in Classroom Management (BCCM),” leading me to question whether this piece is more about marketing than a genuine scholarly contribution. This reliance on external, outdated sources, coupled with a seemingly commercial agenda, makes the article feel disconnected from the real-world experiences of the neurodivergent community it claims to support.
The Perils of Relying on Outdated Research
The article leans heavily on outdated studies and theories, such as those by A. Jean Ayres and early autism researchers like Leo Kanner. Ayres’ Sensory Integration Theory, whilst groundbreaking in the 1970s, is based on concepts that do not fully align with our current understanding of sensory processing in autistic individuals. The article also references Kanner’s early work on autism, yet it glaringly omits the foundational contributions of Dr. Grunya Sukhareva, who documented autistic traits in children nearly a decade before Kanner’s more widely recognised studies. This selective use of historical research not only undermines the article’s credibility but also perpetuates a narrow, incomplete view of autism.
In contrast, contemporary research offers a more nuanced understanding of sensory processing differences in autism, emphasising the diversity of experiences rather than fitting individuals into outdated diagnostic molds. For example, studies over the past decade have highlighted the variability in sensory processing among autistic individuals, noting that these differences can be strengths in certain contexts rather than merely challenges to be managed. My own work, reflected in the 30 pages of references found in “No Place for Autism?” underscores the importance of considering these modern perspectives when developing educational practices. By failing to engage with this body of contemporary research, the article falls short of providing a comprehensive and accurate picture of sensory processing in autism.
The reliance on outdated views has significant implications. It risks perpetuating misconceptions that can lead to ineffective or even harmful educational practices. When educators and clinicians base their approaches on obsolete research, they may inadvertently reinforce stereotypes and fail to meet the actual needs of autistic individuals. This not only hinders progress in creating inclusive, supportive learning environments but also undermines the respect and understanding that should be at the core of working with the neurodivergent community.
Medicalised Language: A Barrier to Understanding
The article is riddled with medicalised language that frames sensory processing differences in autistic individuals as deficits or disorders to be treated. Terms like “disorder,” “treatment,” and “deficit” are used repeatedly, casting neurodivergent experiences in a pathological light. This choice of language is not merely a matter of semantics; it fundamentally shapes how we perceive and engage with autistic individuals. By labeling sensory processing differences as something to be “fixed,” the article reinforces a deficit-based model that alienates neurodivergent individuals and perpetuates stigmatization.
The impact of this language on perception cannot be overstated. When educators and clinicians internalise these terms, they are more likely to view autistic individuals through a lens of deficiency, focusing on what we cannot do rather than recognising our strengths and unique perspectives. This pathologising approach often leads to interventions that prioritise conformity and masking over genuine understanding and support. For those of us within the neurodivergent community, this type of language is a clear signal that the author is writing from an outsider’s perspective, lacking the lived experience that would bring a more nuanced and empathetic understanding.
In contrast, the neurodiversity paradigm promotes acceptance and understanding of sensory differences as natural variations of the human experience, rather than problems to be solved. This perspective is more aligned with the Power Threat Meaning Framework (PTMF), which I favour in my work. The PTMF centres the person, not the system, and views behaviours and experiences as meaningful responses to their environment, rather than as symptoms of a disorder. By adopting this framework, we can move away from the language of deficits and towards a more respectful and empowering approach that honors the individuality and agency of neurodivergent people. This shift in language and perspective is crucial for fostering environments that truly support and uplift those with sensory processing differences, rather than further marginalizing them.
The Importance of Lived Experience
The article starkly lacks the lived experience of autistic individuals, a gap that significantly undermines the credibility and relevance of her arguments. Writing about sensory processing in autism without incorporating the voices of those who live with it every day is akin to attempting to describe a landscape without ever setting foot in it. The absence of this crucial perspective not only limits the depth of the article but also makes it feel disconnected from the realities of the neurodivergent community. Without lived experience, the nuances of sensory processing—the very aspects that are vital to understanding and supporting autistic individuals—are inevitably lost or misrepresented.
Including autistic voices in discussions about sensory processing is not just beneficial; it is essential. Lived experiences provide insights that cannot be gleaned from research alone. For instance, my own experience with Sensory Integration Therapy (SIT) revealed how conventional approaches can feel more like planting a seed in the wrong soil, rather than genuinely addressing the root of sensory challenges. This perspective, grounded in real life, highlights the limitations of traditional methods and underscores the importance of environments that align with individual sensory needs. Such insights are invaluable for developing approaches that are truly effective and respectful of neurodivergent individuals.
This is why, when it came time to publish my own work, I chose to partner with Lived Places Publishing. Unlike the capitalist corporations that churn out generic content disconnected from the realities of those they claim to serve, Lived Places Publishing is committed to centring authentic voices and experiences. They understand that true progress in research and support comes from including those who know it best. By advocating for the inclusion of neurodivergent voices in both research and writing, we can move towards more accurate, empathetic, and effective approaches to understanding and supporting sensory processing in autism. This is not just a matter of better science; it is a matter of justice and respect for the individuals whose lives are at the center of these discussions.
Personal Reflections and Counterpoints
My experience with SIT was not just ineffective—it bordered on abusive. The approach felt more like a relentless attempt to force me into a mold that didn’t fit, rather than offering any real support or understanding. It was like “planting a seed in the wrong soil,” expecting it to thrive under conditions that were completely incompatible with its nature. The “tough it out” mentality that underpined much of the old SIT can be profoundly harmful, especially for those of us who are already navigating a world that often feels overwhelming and hostile. This is why the article was particularly triggering for me; it seemed to advocate for the very strategies that caused me harm.
The author’s focus on adaptation and masking is deeply problematic. It suggests that the goal for autistic individuals should be to conform to environments that are fundamentally misaligned with their sensory needs. This approach, which has unsettling parallels to Applied Behavior Analysis (ABA), only serves to perpetuate the notion that neurodivergent individuals must change themselves to fit into a neurotypical world. In my view, this is not only misguided but also ethically questionable. Instead of forcing adaptation, we should be creating environments that support authentic well-being, where individuals can thrive without having to suppress or mask their true selves.
In my own teaching practice, as reflected in the alternative approaches I outlined in a previous article, I prioritise creating sensory-responsive environments that honor each student’s unique needs. These environments are not about making students conform but about meeting them where they are and providing the support they need to succeed on their own terms. This holistic, person-centered approach is informed by my lived experience and my firm belief that true support comes from understanding and respecting the individual, not from forcing them to fit into a preconceived mold. This is the direction we should be heading in when it comes to supporting neurodivergent individuals, moving away from harmful, outdated practices and towards approaches that genuinely foster well-being and growth.
Final thoughts …
Sadly, the article falls short in several critical areas, relying on outdated research, employing medicalised language that pathologises neurodivergent experiences, and completely lacking the lived experience necessary to truly understand sensory processing in autism. These shortcomings not only undermine the article’s credibility but also risk perpetuating harmful practices that fail to meet the needs of autistic individuals.
In today’s world, we must move towards more progressive and inclusive approaches that respect and support the unique experiences of neurodivergent people. It’s crucial that we critically evaluate the sources and perspectives in autism-related literature, questioning whether they truly serve the community or simply reinforce outdated and damaging norms.
I invite you to engage with contemporary, neurodiversity-affirming literature that centres the voices of those with lived experience. By doing so, we can all contribute to creating environments and practices that genuinely support and uplift neurodivergent individuals, rather than forcing them to conform to a world that often misunderstands us.