
I’m an Autistic Man — and I’m Tired of Being a Political Talking Point
Every few years, as election cycles heat up, I find myself holding my breath. Not because I’m excited about civic engagement or national debate — but because I know that at some point, someone will stand behind a podium, gesture dramatically, and use autism as a political weapon.
Sometimes we’re framed as a “tragedy.” Sometimes we’re a “burden on the system.”
Other times we’re carelessly thrown into conspiracy theories — treated as proof that modern medicine or modern parenting has somehow gone wrong.
No matter how it’s framed, the underlying message is the same: autism is something terrible.
And by extension, people like me — people who live with autism every day — are somehow less. Less valuable. Less capable. Less human.
It’s exhausting. And it’s wrong.
Autism Is Not a Crisis
I want to be very clear: autism is not an epidemic.
It’s not some sudden disaster that needs solving.
We have always existed — long before we had a name for it. Before there were clinical diagnoses, before there were headlines screaming about “rising numbers,” autistic people were living, working, loving, and finding our way in the world.
What’s changed is awareness, not prevalence.
And framing autism as a problem to be fixed or prevented doesn’t just misinform the public — it actively harms real people.
It fuels discrimination. It isolates children from their peers. It creates adults who are boxed out of jobs, housing, and healthcare.
It teaches society to see autistic people as less deserving of dignity, opportunities, and respect.
Autism Is Not a Mistake
When political figures tie autism into conspiracy theories — especially around topics like vaccines — the damage is twofold.
First, it undermines public health.
But second, and just as devastating, it tells autistic people that our existence is a nightmare scenario. That being like us is somehow worse than death.
Imagine hearing that message repeated over and over, year after year.
Imagine internalizing that shame — being made to feel like an accident or a cautionary tale every time you turn on the news.
That is the reality many autistic Americans live with.
It doesn’t just hurt emotionally. It costs lives — through mental health struggles, lack of access to services, and, too often, sheer hopelessness.
Real Advocacy Looks Different
If politicians actually cared about the autistic community, their focus would be radically different.
They would fight for access to healthcare tailored to autistic needs — not just for children, but for adults.
They would demand an end to subminimum wages, a loophole that still allows disabled workers to be paid less than minimum wage.
They would push for real education reforms, making classrooms inclusive and accessible.
They would invest in programs that support autistic adults to live independently and thrive within their communities.
They would amplify autistic voices, rather than speaking over us, for us, or about us like we’re not even in the room.
We don’t need pity. We need empowerment.
We don’t need fear-based policies. We need opportunities.
Autism Is a Different Way of Being — Not a Defect
Autism shapes the way I interact with the world.
It influences how I think, how I feel, how I communicate.
It gives me strengths that are uniquely mine, and it presents challenges that are uniquely mine.
But it does not make me broken.
It does not make me a problem that needs solving.
It does not mean that my life is lesser, sadder, or more burdensome than anyone else’s.
I — and millions of others — live full, rich lives as autistic people. We work. We build friendships. We pursue passions. We fall in love. We create. We dream. We contribute.
We are not hypothetical talking points to be thrown around in debates. We are human beings.
I’m Not Asking for a Seat at the Table — I Already Have One
The next time someone on a political stage feels the urge to use autism as a scare tactic or a sob story, I hope they remember this:
Autistic people are voters.
Autistic people are workers.
Autistic people are taxpayers, parents, entrepreneurs, artists, teachers, neighbors, friends.
We are already part of the fabric of this country.
We’re not going anywhere.
And we deserve to be treated with dignity, not weaponized for political gain.

