When our son was little, he was considered “low-functioning” because he was nonverbal and tested severely delayed on just about all developmental measures.
A friend’s son was considered “high-functioning” because he was highly verbal and had a high IQ.
The story of how verbal ability became a marker for “high-functioning” in autism is grist for another post, but the implications, for both verbal (Asperger’s) and nonverbal (classic autism) varieties of spectrum disorders is today’s topic. There’s a long history in our educational system of assuming that IQ measures “global” intelligence and thus determines what can be expected of a given child in every aspect of their lives (other than, maybe, sport.) The kid with a high IQ is expected to make A in everything; the kid with a low IQ is expected to struggle in everything.
Most of us know this is not true…and in fact, in my day, it was assumed that IQ was global except that girls were better at reading and boys were better at math (at the same IQ)–another false assumption, but one that led to my being scolded for being so good at math (it was, I was told, embarrassing to the boys to have a girl make high math scores–I should flunk some tests on purpose to prop up their egos.) But individual variations–the kid who is great at math, great at reading, but lousy at history (to take an instance of a kid I knew) were always assumed to be the fault of “laziness” or “lack of motivation” or “not working hard enough.”
Two points are particularly relevant in considering IQ and verbal ability as measures of functional level in autism-spectrum disorders. First, the primary and lifelong deficit in these disorders is in social functioning–the ability of the individual to “fit in” or “get along” in society–to make friends, to get and hold a job, to form long-term relationships, to regulate his/her own emotional state in relation to social demands. Intelligence alone, verbal ability alone or combined with intelligence, does not prevent this deficit, nor cure it–or there would be no Asperger’s Syndrome. And second, the typical developmental pattern of those on the autism spectrum is unevenness–extreme unevenness. Where the average person range perhaps a letter grade up or down in a given subject, it’s more typical for someone on the autism spectrum to range from A++ in one area and F- – in another….in other words, the range of performance is extreme. It’s extreme not because the person “isn’t really trying” or “isn’t motivated” but because (for instance) a legless violinist can play the violin brilliantly but won’t be able to run a hundred yard dash. Parts of the system just aren’t there, or are there in very reduced form.
Yet by labeling someone “high” or “low” functioning, the person who sets the labels is creating expectations that are unfair—to both.
Verbal ability does not equate to social functioning–it affects its development, certainly, but does not determine the level the individual can finally reach. Nor does IQ. Both verbal ability and IQ can make it somewhat easier for an individual to overcome a social-functioning deficit of a certain size–but because society expects more from someone who can talk and who tests smart, the expectation may still be too high. When a child is constantly failing to achieve what’s expected–at any level of expectation–and feels defined as a failure–that cannot help but impact the child’s personality, over and above all other innate problems.
At the other extreme, the individual who cannot talk, and whose IQ tests scores are below normal, can be trapped in the low expectations of those who think speech and IQ are the whole person. If that person’s social-functioning deficit is less, he or she may be able to advance in the social realm in spite of lower global intelligence–and make do with minimal verbal skills (or alternative means of communication) later on. With adequate support early on, this person may exceed expectations (and, in doing so, find more social acceptance than the person who–smarter and more verbal all along–still could not reach the level his/her therapists/teachers/employers thought he/she “should.”) But the person labeled “low-functioning” is likely to receive less support, and his/her progress is less likely to be recognized for years.
Most of us recognize this when dealing with people who carry no labels. We’ve all run into the highly verbal person who is just plain nasty–who uses verbal ability to bully and manipulate others for their own gain. We’ve all run into people who impress us as very smart in one area but gullible to stupid in other areas. These people aren’t all on the spectrum somewhere–they’re just another example that verbal ability and IQ do not give the whole picture of functional level.
Function levels are meaningful only in specified areas: how functional–how good–is someone at reading, holding a conversation, keeping their checkbook straight, “networking,” holding down a job (and which job?) I am “high-functioning” as a writer, but “low-functioning” as a housekeeper–“high-functioning” in certain aspects of land management, and “low-functioning” at building fence (where my husband is high- functioning.)
Global labels of “high-functioning” and “low-functioning” applied to persons on the autism spectrum–and especially perhaps the concentration on verbal ability and IQ as the metrics for those labels–do a disservice to the individuals so labeled. It’s especially a problem with children, since autistic children do continue to make developmental progress as long as they get the right supports….but their access to those supports is, at present, related to the global label. The highly verbal, high-IQ Asperger’s kid is no less disabled–no less unable to progress without special interventions–than the nonverbal classic autistic kid.
In my opinion, such global labels should be replaced by specific functional markers for each cognitive and social domain–understanding that we’re looking at rates of progression, not fixed labels. I did this for our son, on my own, because I was so dissatisfied with the standard global scores that did not reflect the reality we lived with. It was a great help to me, as the primary therapist and teacher, in creating a scaffold for his development, opening doors and celebrating his walking through, rather than creating barriers (since he was originally defined as “low-functioning”) or making it clear to him that he was never good enough, that he was always failing.
Comment by Elizabeth — January 4, 2009 @ 9:18 am
Addendum: Our son, considered low-functioning in early childhood (nonverbal, not toilet-trained, way behind on almost all developmental markers) has held a part-time job for almost a year now. His managers think he’s great and remark on his diligence and his pleasant personality.
I know of adults who were considered high-functioning in childhood, because they were verbal and physically more developed who have not found a job, or lost job after job because they could not get along in a job environment. Not having observed them at work, I don’t know if their actual interpersonal skills were less than our son’s, or if instead more was expected–the bar was set higher–and they could not reach the higher bar.
Comment by sari — January 4, 2009 @ 4:36 pm
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Got a good laugh out of this. Sometimes it *is* for lack of trying. The motivational part of the system is what’s broken, the innate desire to please that spurs most children to take on and complete boring or odious tasks. The child with autism is not going to kill himself to get an A in a subject that holds little interest. The parents’ and teachers’ goal, for a child who is cognitively intact, becomes teaching the child why the exercise is important rather than worrying about the academic skills addressed by the exercise.
Comment by sari — January 4, 2009 @ 4:37 pm
Argh! It dropped the quote:
…he typical developmental pattern of those on the autism spectrum is unevenness–extreme unevenness. Where the average person range perhaps a letter grade up or down in a given subject, it’s more typical for someone on the autism spectrum to range from A++ in one area and F- – in another….in other words, the range of performance is extreme. It’s extreme not because the person “isn’t really trying” or “isn’t motivated” but because (for instance) a legless violinist can play the violin brilliantly but won’t be able to run a hundred yard dash. Parts of the system just aren’t there, or are there in very reduced form….
Comment by Elizabeth — January 4, 2009 @ 9:45 pm
Actually–I must mildly disagree, and that disagreement comes from experience tutoring kids that aren’t autistic, teaching and mentoring kids when I was in grad school, and teaching a class here in emergency response. (Aha! Another post topic, on the reasons the basic social contract fails in autistic (and some other) kids. So thanks!)
Most of my students, when I was a tutor, were considered “unmotivated” (or “lazy” or “just not interested in learning”) by parents and teachers–that’s why I got them–and none were autistic or even close to the spectrum. Yet in terms of obvious motivation or initiative, they were right down there with the stereotypical autistic (just not in anything else.)
Labeling someone as “unmotivated” should be a last step, not a first step, in figuring out why they don’t do something. True anomie is much rarer than people think. Motivating neurologically normal kids is relatively easy once the responsibility for “motivation” is correctly placed. (Leaders motivate. Followers are motivated. Learned that in the Corps. Was interested and somewhat amazed to find out it worked on the kids I tutored, the ones I worked with in grad school, and the ones I taught here.)
In the case of an autistic child, the child is not, by definition, cognitively “intact”–lacking the ability to pick up certain cues (in considering the entire cognitive apparatus) a true lack. If the I/O is out of whack, no matter how good the central processor–it can’t function like an intact one. Same if it’s getting intermittent electrical discharges. The lack of concern for adult approval is an indirect effect (will discuss in another post) and not the central deficit…although the failure of the social bond is the most visible and most devastating symptom.
Yes, autistic kids can and do act like “normal” kids in sometimes deliberately pushing limits, refusing to do what bores them or they just don’t like, etc. And you’re right that for long-term adjustment, as adults, they must learn that some things must be done just because society says…(though there is no single fact in 12 years of school that everyone “needs” to know.) So must everyone who ends up a productive, non-troubling member of society. But this does not negate my point that the high/low-functioning label is, on its own, both inadequate to describe function or predict long-term adjustment and–as or more important–leads to expectations that result in mis-matched interventions.
Comment by sari — January 4, 2009 @ 10:33 pm
“this does not negate my point that the high/low-functioning label is, on its own, both inadequate to describe function or predict long-term adjustment and–as or more important–leads to expectations that result in mis-matched interventions.”
We are in total agreement on this. I was just remembering how motivational deficits combined with social detachment led to an awful lot of work refusal at our house.
Our experience with academics ran something like, “I already know this and you can’t make me do it” or “I hate doing ‘fill in the blank’ and I’m not going to do it’ or “I’m not interested (the worst)”. At times assignments simply needed modification (e.g., scribing for writing or a better explanation of expectations, both functions of the limitations imposed by autism), but at other times we needed to find the right carrot (doing the necessary graphing to stay in Algebra or returning to a more boring lower math class). The latter was definitely about motivation (the boring math class being worse than graphing).