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Posted September 12, 2025 Reviewed by Tyler Woods
What if everything we thought we knew about autistic communication was wrong?
For decades, autism has been described through a lens of deficit. Communication differences were framed as “deficits.” Misunderstandings were pinned on the autistic person, leading to social skills training taught as “the correct way” to socialize.
But emerging perspectives invite us to see things differently. Rather than a deficit framework, autistic people have distinct ways of communicating—rooted in our culture, values, and neurology. The challenge often arises not within one person, but between people of different neurotypes trying to connect.
This is the heart of Dr. Damian Milton’s concept of the double empathy problem: communication breakdowns happen in both directions, because autistic and non-autistic people often fail to understand one another’s perspectives.
So in the same way that autistic communication can seem unusual to non-autistic people, allistic communication can feel puzzling to us. For example, many autistic people find small talk illogical (why discuss the weather when no real information is exchanged?), while non-autistic people may see that same avoidance of small talk as aloofness. Both sides are reading the interaction through their own lens, and both can walk away feeling misunderstood.
I call these moments cross-neurotype interactions—when people of different neurologies come together. Research shows that these interactions are where communication is most likely to break down. In fact, breakdowns occur more frequently in mixed neurotype groups than in groups made up solely of autistic people or solely of non-autistic people.
This tells us something important. If autistic communication were truly “deficient,” then autistic-only groups should perform worse. They don’t. What we see instead is that autistic people communicate effectively with one another—just as non-autistic people do. The problem arises when styles collide.
This is why I often compare cross-neurotype communication to cross-cultural communication.
When I lived in Malawi, I learned it was considered rude to shake hands with the left hand, since it was used for tasks seen as unclean. Offering my left hand wasn’t just unusual; it was deeply disrespectful.
Cross-cultural interactions remind us it’s not about one person being a “bad communicator,” but about context. The same applies across neurotypes. What feels polite or respectful in one neurotype may land differently in another. Directness and skipping small talk, for example, can be respectful for autistic people yet read as rude to non-autistic people. Many of us juggle both cultural and neurological differences at once, which adds another layer of complexity.
If you’re like me, you may be thinking: This makes intuitive sense, but is there evidence?
Yes. Dr. Catherine Crompton and her colleagues in the UK have conducted several studies testing the double empathy theory. Their work consistently shows that the biggest struggles arise not within autistic groups, but between neurotypes.
In one study (Crompton et al., 2020), participants played an information chain task—a grown-up version of the telephone game. Some groups were all autistic, some all non-autistic, and some mixed.
The results told a clear story. Both autistic-only and non-autistic-only groups kept the story intact for longer. Mixed groups saw the story fall apart much more quickly, with details lost or distorted. In other words, communication faltered most when people of different neurotypes were paired together.
If autism were a communication deficit, autistic-only groups should have struggled most. Instead, they did just fine with each other.
In another study (Crompton et al., 2020), participants worked in pairs: autistic/autistic, non-autistic/non-autistic, or mixed, and then rated how connected they felt. Observers also watched the interactions without knowing who was autistic.
Here’s what they found:
Interestingly, observers rated the autistic pairings as having the highest rapport, even higher than non-autistic pairs.
If we keep calling autistic communication a “deficit,” we miss the truth. Autistic people don’t lack social skills; we have our own. We connect in ways that make sense within our neurotype, just as other groups do. The issue isn’t deficiency but difference.(1) This shift in perspective has practical implications:
One of the hardest realities about cross-neurotype misattunement is that it often goes unnamed. Because neurodivergence isn’t always visible, people may not even realize they’re in a cross-neurotype exchange. Misunderstandings then get chalked up to character flaws, “rude,” “cold,” “too much,” rather than recognized as differences in communication styles.
But once we name it, something shifts. Recognizing that our struggles stem from differences in style, not deficits in ability, and not dislike for one another, can soften shame and create space for empathy.
Autistic people may still find it useful to learn allistic social skills. But when framed as tools for navigating the world, rather than “the right way to socialize,” these skills can build confidence instead of reinforcing a deficit narrative. At the same time, learning about how autistic people naturally connect, through object-based conversations, direct communication, or parallel play, helps autistic people name the ways they feel most at home in connection.
If we can move from a deficit lens to a difference lens, we begin to name disconnects without judgment and build the bridges needed for true mutual understanding.
References
(1) While I’m framing Autistic communication as a difference rather than a deficit in this article, it’s also true that some aspects of socializing can be more innately challenging. For example, Peter Vermeulen has suggested that Autistic brains process context differently (Autism as Context Blindness, 2015; Autism and the Predictive Brain, 2022). Rather than intuitively picking up context, many of us rely on conscious reasoning in the prefrontal cortex. This can make social navigation more effortful and challenging — but effortful isn’t the same as deficient.
Crompton, C. J., Ropar, D., Evans-Williams, C. V., Flynn, E. G., & Fletcher-Watson, S. (2020). Autistic peer-to-peer information transfer is highly effective. Autism, 24(7), 1704–1712.
Crompton, C. J., Sharp, M., Axbey, H., Fletcher-Watson, S., Flynn, E. G., & Ropar, D. (2020). Neurotype-Matching but Not Being Autistic Influences Self and Observer Ratings of Interpersonal Rapport. Frontiers in Psychology, 11, 586171.
Milton, D. E. M. (2012). On the ontological status of autism: the “double empathy problem.” Disability & Society, 27(6), 883–887.
Vermeulen, P. (2015). Context blindness in autism spectrum disorder: Not using the forest to see the trees as trees. Focus on Autism and Other Developmental Disabilities, 30(3), 182–192. https://doi.org/10.1177/1088357614528799
Vermeulen, P. (2022). Autism and The Predictive Brain: Absolute Thinking in a Relative World (1st ed.). Routledge. https://doi.org/10.4324/9781003340447
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Megan Anna Neff, Psy.D., (She/They) is a neurodivergent clinical psychologist (autistic-ADHD) and founder of Neurodivergent Insights where she creates education and wellness resource for neurodivergent adults.
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The best way to begin something new—in love, work, and life.
Self Tests are all about you. Are you outgoing or introverted? Are you a narcissist? Does perfectionism hold you back? Find out the answers to these questions and more with Psychology Today.