Persuading Autistic People — i autistic 我自闭

Persuasion is not necessarily a bad thing. There are times when an autistic person is heading towards a decision that may seriously damage his future, while the people around him can see problems that he cannot yet see. Simply repeating “it is his choice” may respect autonomy, but it does not necessarily help him make a better choice.

I now think the better question is: How do we persuade someone without turning persuasion into domination?

The answer I have arrived at is to treat persuasion less like an emotional confrontation and more like a professional negotiation: explain the hidden reasoning, put important arguments in writing, define everyone’s rights and responsibilities, allow bounded experiments, agree on objective criteria beforehand and let reality settle disagreements whenever it can do so safely.

Learning to Choose and Be Corrected examines the other side of this relationship: becoming able to use advice without surrendering judgement. It brings together my history of obedience and an adult’s account of the consequences of growing up without useful correction. The aim is neither an obedient dependent nor someone protected from every unwelcome observation, but a person increasingly able to understand and guide their own conduct.

Why I started thinking about this

Many years ago, I had dinner with a family that included an autistic teenager. During dinner, a disagreement developed between the teenager and a caregiver over something that had happened earlier. As I remember the substance of the exchange, it went something like this:

“Did you behave well today?”
“I behaved well in school.”
“What about after school?”
“I behaved well on the bus.”
“What about between leaving school and boarding the bus?”
“…”

The questioning continued, followed by a long series of corrections about what he should have done, what he should not have done and why he had apparently repeated earlier mistakes.

Watching this reminded me strongly of my own childhood. It felt to me less like teaching and more like a courtroom argument. The autistic teenager was actually much better at defending himself than I had been; he formulated his reasoning under pressure while being expected to answer immediately. I eventually interrupted and tried to explain how I would have preferred similar issues to be explained to me:

Human communication is not only about transmitting technically correct information. It also coordinates relationships and influences what people do.
A factual error may sometimes be less important than the practical intention behind a message.
Constantly correcting another person can be experienced as confrontation rather than assistance.
Public correction can be especially embarrassing when face and social harmony matter.
When a correction is necessary, “I read something different; shall we check?” may work better than immediately declaring the other person wrong.

At the time, this experience reinforced something I already believed: many autistic people are not persuaded by conclusions alone. We often need to understand the reasoning underneath them.

Sometimes persuasion really is necessary

The first version of this article was written near the beginning of what eventually became my two lost decades. I had enormous ambitions and believed very strongly in what I was doing. People told me to be more practical, concentrate on my career, earn money and stop sacrificing so much for ambitions that might never succeed. I did not listen.

Some of their advice was substantially correct, however statements such as “be realistic with your ambition“, “people are inherently selfish and you had to protect your interests first” or “you cannot hope to change the world when all the great people failed” did little to penetrate the system of reasoning I had already constructed.

I could answer those statements. I could explain why my mission was important. I could explain why conventional career success seemed insignificant beside what I hoped to accomplish. I could explain that nobody believe all the great innovators and thought leaders until they eventually proved their success.

What I needed was not stronger opposition; I needed somebody to make the opportunity cost impossible for me to ignore. For example:

“You believe this project can succeed. Let us give it six months.”
“You may spend up to this much money and this many hours on it.”
“Meanwhile, you continue building qualifications, employable skills and savings so that the experiment does not destroy your alternatives.”
“Before we begin, write down what results should exist after three months and six months if your assumptions are approximately correct.”
“If the evidence appears, we can expand the experiment. If it does not, you reconsider the plan.”

I might still have rejected the proposal. But that approach would at least have confronted my beliefs with budgets, evidence, deadlines and opportunity costs instead of another person’s opinion.

Do not try to win while everyone is angry

Among autistic people I have known, I have sometimes observed an awkward combination: a person becomes intensely emotional while not fully recognising how strongly that emotion is influencing his reasoning at that moment.

While we should avoid stereotyping, research nevertheless suggests that emotion-regulation difficulties are elevated on average in autistic populations. Some autistic people also experience alexithymia – difficulty identifying or describing their own emotions.

When anger rises, both autistic and non-autistic people can become increasingly interested in defending their existing position rather than reconsidering it. Unfortunately, the other person often responds by becoming louder, repeating the same argument or producing more arguments. This can create a strange situation where everyone believes they are reasoning while the emotional system is actually driving the exchange.

If I am already angry and defending myself, giving me another ten reasons why I am wrong may simply give me another ten things to rebut. Sometimes the best persuasion technique is therefore to stop talking.

Write the essay instead of ranting

If something is important, consider writing it down and giving the autistic person time to read and think about it. An essay, email or carefully structured message can have several advantages over a heated conversation:

The entire argument can be presented before either person starts interrupting.
The reader can process one section at a time.
He can reread a difficult passage several times.
He does not have to formulate a defence immediately.
He can check your facts.
He can discover inconsistencies in his own argument.
Both sides have an exact record of what was actually proposed.
The emotional intensity of tone of voice, facial expression and rapid turn-taking is reduced.
The reader can return to the argument after his initial emotional reaction has subsided.

Research asking autistic adults about their communication preferences has found strong preferences for written communication with participants describing benefits including thinking time, structure and the ability to revisit what was said. More recent research has found similar preferences. NICE also recommends making rules explicit and making greater use of written and structured information when adapting communication and psychological interventions for autistic adults. See Howard and Sedgewick’s study of autistic communication preferences and the NICE guidance on supporting autistic adults.

A persuasion essay can be very simple

I would structure an important argument something like this:

What I am concerned about.
What I think may happen.
Why I think it may happen.
What evidence I am relying on.
What assumptions I may be making.
What you believe instead.
What would distinguish the two predictions.
What the consequences are if I am wrong.
What the consequences are if you are wrong.
What small experiment could give us better information.
When we will review the result.

Then let the person respond in writing if that works better for him. Now the disagreement has become something both people can inspect instead of a contest over who can argue faster.

Explain the hidden rules

One reason I rejected a great deal of advice was that people frequently gave me conclusions while omitting the system underneath them. I heard statements such as these, with the names and interests changing from one occasion to the next:

“You are wrong.”
“Stop asking questions and just do it.”
“This is how things are done here.”
“You must respect [authority figure].”
“Listen to [authority figure]. They know what is best for you.”
“Even [successful person] could not do it. How could you?”
“Why pursue [special interest] when your grades are poor?”
“You are trying to fly before you can crawl.”
“Be very, very careful.”
“You are being taken advantage of by doing [special interest] for free.”
“Do not be selfish. Think about other people.”
“You need to be less perfect.”

Some of that advice may have been sensible. But I often could not see the missing logical steps. A better explanation might be:

“This workplace operates through a management hierarchy. Your manager has responsibility for allocating work and is accountable for the results. Within your agreed job responsibilities, you are normally expected to follow reasonable instructions. You can raise concerns and propose alternatives, but refusing every instruction until you personally agree with it makes the organisation very difficult to operate.”
“You spent 45 minutes researching how to save 25 cents. Saving money is good, but your time also has value. What else could you have accomplished during those 45 minutes?”
“You spent another three hours increasing the quality of this work from 98% to 99%. That improvement exists, but would you have produced more benefit if spent the same time fixing another problem.”

The difference is that these explanations reveal the trade-off.

Turn disagreements into professional negotiations

Family arguments often become unnecessarily personal:

“You never listen to me.”
“You always control me.”
“You are irresponsible.”
“You do not understand anything.”

These statements invite arguments about identity, history and respect. A professional negotiation asks different questions:

What does each person want?
Who controls which resources?
Who carries which risks?
What responsibilities already exist?
Which parts are negotiable?
Which boundaries are not negotiable?
What evidence would change either person’s position?
Can the disagreement be tested?
When will the decision be reviewed?

This can take much of the emotional poison out of the discussion. You are no longer saying: “Because I am your parent, I know what is best“. You might instead say: “You are proposing Plan A. I am proposing Plan B. Let us write down the expected costs, benefits, risks and evidence for both“. That gives the autistic person something concrete to reason about.

Make rights, resources and responsibilities explicit

Another common source of conflict is that people disagree without first defining who actually has authority over what. Consider further education. An adult autistic person may ultimately be free to choose what he wants to study. That does not automatically mean another adult must voluntarily finance every course he chooses. A parent might therefore say:

“I am willing to use my discretionary savings to pay for Course A because I believe it gives you a reasonable chance of becoming financially independent.”
“I am not presently willing to pay for Course B because I think the financial risk is too high.”
“You remain free to disagree with me and pursue Course B using your own discretionary resources.”
“However, I do not want you to enrol first on the assumption that I will eventually rescue the finances. If your plan is to pay for it yourself, first demonstrate that the plan works – for example, by obtaining the required income or saving the agreed amount.”
“If you can demonstrate that, I will reconsider the evidence with you.”

This is much clearer than: “You are studying what I tell you because I am your parent“.

The distinction is important. For an independent adult, I can normally control my own voluntary money, time and property. I do not thereby acquire unlimited control over another adult’s life.

With children and people who require substantial decision-making support, caregivers may have greater responsibilities and lawful authority. Basic necessities, safety and support that someone is legally obliged to provide should not be disguised as bargaining chips. The example above concerns genuinely discretionary support.

Use a written trial agreement

Sometimes neither side can prove who is correct beforehand. Instead of arguing indefinitely, negotiate an experiment. For example:

“You believe you can make this project work. I am sceptical, but neither of us can prove the outcome today.”
“Let us give you three months.”
“Before we start, we agree on the resources available, the maximum acceptable loss and the results we expect.”
“Here are the criteria we will measure after one month, two months and three months.”
“I will not interfere simply because I dislike the way you are doing it.”
“If you meet the criteria, that is evidence in favour of your plan.”
“If you miss them substantially, I will stop providing the discretionary resources committed to this trial and we return to the alternative plan I am prepared to support, unless new evidence gives us a good reason to renegotiate.”

This is much more informative than spending three months arguing about whether the project will work. Write down the agreement before the experiment begins. Otherwise, when the result becomes uncomfortable, both sides may unconsciously move the goalposts.

A useful trial agreement defines:

The proposal being tested.
The duration of the experiment.
Who contributes what.
The maximum amount of money that may be lost.
The maximum amount of time that may be spent.
The minimum responsibilities that must continue during the experiment.
The measurable success criteria.
The warning signs that require an early review.
The circumstances that require the experiment to stop.
The review date.
What happens if the experiment succeeds.
What happens if it fails.

Call it a contract if that language helps everyone take it seriously, but in many family situations what is really needed is a clear written agreement rather than an elaborate legal document.

Turn optional sponsorship into a developmental agreement

A desired course or overseas opportunity can motivate relevant preparation. Agree the purpose, budget, capabilities to practise, support available, evidence required and a review date. The parent should help fund preparation, not merely demand readiness.

A smaller journey or representative course module may show what the person understands and can manage. The result can support proceeding, further preparation or changing direction. Conditions should concern capability, not unquestioning agreement or compulsory use of the parent’s favoured course.

Parental Judgment & Guidance explains the larger investment decision. Keep essential support outside this negotiation and honour the terms once the agreed evidence is present. Choosing a better route after the trial is a developmental result, not disobedience.

Sometimes people need to fail

There are things I learned only after reality defeated my arguments. This creates a difficult problem for caregivers. If an autistic person refuses advice, should we protect him from every foreseeable mistake? I do not think so. Overprotection can prevent learning. Some lessons become understandable only when a person experiences cause and effect personally. But there is an enormous difference between safe failure and catastrophic failure.

Safe failure might mean:

Trying a project for three months and discovering that nobody wants the product.
Spending $200 of an agreed experimental budget and discovering that an idea does not work.
Taking responsibility for organising an activity and discovering that planning was inadequate.
Applying for an ambitious opportunity and being rejected.
Trying a work method for a week and comparing its results with the conventional method.

Catastrophic failure might involve:

Serious danger to health or life.
Irreversible debt.
Losing essential housing.
Giving large amounts of money to someone who may be exploiting the person.
Committing a serious offence.
Abandoning every employable skill and source of income for years.
Making another irreversible decision whose downside cannot realistically be recovered from.

The objective should be: Let reality teach the lesson while keeping the tuition fee affordable. If failure costs $200 and three months, perhaps the experience is worth more than another hundred arguments. If failure could cost twenty years, everything should be done to create a smaller experiment first.

Preserve the option to be wrong

This is perhaps the greatest lesson from my own lost decades. When somebody is very confident, do not necessarily demand that he abandon his ambition. Ask him to preserve an escape route. If he wants to start an unconventional project:

Keep developing transferable skills.
Continue meeting essential responsibilities.
Set a budget.
Set a time limit.
Define evidence of progress.
Keep some income or savings.
Avoid irreversible commitments during the experimental stage.
Set the review date before beginning.

This is often much easier to accept than: “Your dream is stupid. Give it up.” The goal is not to destroy ambition. It is to stop one uncertain belief from being allowed to destroy every alternative future.

Challenge ambitious autistic people properly

Suppose an autistic young person says: “I want to become a billionaire“. There is little educational value in replying: “Do not be ridiculous“. Try this instead:

How do billionaires actually become billionaires?
Which factors were skills and which were circumstances?
What would happen if one of those factors were missing?
Which required abilities do you already have?
How do you know you have them?
Which abilities are missing?
How could you develop them?
What small business could test your assumptions?
How much are you prepared to lose testing it?
What result after six months would suggest that you should continue?
What result would suggest that you should change direction?

Now his ambition has become an educational instrument. Even if he never becomes a billionaire, he may learn accounting, programming, sales, negotiation, planning, leadership, communication and the economics of running a real business. These skills remain useful even when the original ambition fails.

Convert vague criticism into engineering requirements

Autistic people may also respond much better when criticism becomes a specific problem to solve. Instead of “Your design is far too complicated“, try “A first-time user should be able to set this up in fewer than five steps and within ten minutes. Some users have limited technical knowledge. Can you redesign it to satisfy those requirements?”

Instead of “Stop being such a perfectionist”, try “You achieved excellent quality. Now I have another optimisation problem for you: can you retain 80% of that quality while using only 20% of the time?”

For me, “Be fast” led to more accidents, while “Be careful” meant working slowly. Neither instruction showed me how to meet both expectations.

Instead of “Be more careful“, try “If this data is entered incorrectly, your colleague may have to spend two hours checking the data. What quality control process can we add to reduce that risk?”

Specificity turns criticism into a solvable problem.

Do not confuse persuasion with forcing agreement

There is still an important boundary. A professional negotiation can end with disagreement. An adult autistic person may understand every argument, accept every consequence and still choose something I consider foolish.

Autistic adults have the same interest in self-determination as anyone else. Research involving autistic adults has emphasised the importance of opportunities to make their own choices while receiving practical support where useful. See this study on self-determination among autistic adults.

Persuasion therefore should not mean:

Threatening somebody until he says yes.
Taking away basic needs to obtain compliance.
Deceiving him about his alternatives.
Changing the agreed criteria after he succeeds.
Using his disability to dismiss a decision merely because others dislike it.
Continuing an argument indefinitely until exhaustion produces surrender.

The aim is better decision-making, not victory.

My practical approach

If I now had to persuade an autistic person about an important decision, I would try the following sequence:

Understand his model first. Ask why the proposed choice makes sense to him.
Identify the hidden disagreement. Do we disagree about facts, probabilities, priorities, responsibilities or values?
Do not argue during emotional escalation. Resume when everyone can think.
Put complicated reasoning in writing. Let him process it without having to defend himself immediately.
Explain the hidden social or economic rules. Do not assume that “everyone knows” them.
State boundaries explicitly. Clarify what I control, what he controls and what nobody gets to bargain away.
Separate autonomy from sponsorship. Someone may remain free to pursue a choice without being entitled to another person’s discretionary resources for it.
Convert opinions into predictions. What does each side expect to happen?
Design the smallest useful experiment. Test the disagreement without betting the person’s entire future.
Agree on criteria beforehand. Do not move the goalposts afterwards.
Let safe failure teach. Some lessons require experience.
Prevent catastrophic failure. Put guardrails around consequences that are irreversible or grossly disproportionate.
Review the evidence together. Both sides must be willing to admit when reality contradicts them.

Persuasion should increase rationality, not dependence

The best outcome is not an autistic person who obediently does whatever his caregiver says. That merely replaces one decision-maker with another. The better outcome is a person who gradually learns to ask:

What am I assuming?
How do I know?
What evidence would prove me wrong?
What does this cost?
What am I giving up?
Can I test it first?
What happens if I am wrong?
Can I recover?

A caregiver, teacher, employer or friend may initially have to supply these questions. Eventually, the autistic person hopefully learns to supply them himself. That is the kind of persuasion I wish I had received more often: not somebody defeating me in an argument, and not somebody silently allowing me to walk into every mistake, but somebody helping me construct a better decision-making system.