“I speak Alien, do you?

”The “double empathy-problem”

What is empathy?

Defined as the ability to understand and share the feelings, perspectives or experiences of another person. It includes both emotional resonance (feeling with someone), and cognitive understanding (making sense of what they’re going through).

Empathy doesn’t always look the same across individuals or cultures, and it can be expressed in many different ways, not just through facial expressions or small talk. But for many neurodivergent individuals it’s hard to interpret neurotypical communication — but we try in order to prevent ostracism.

Just for the record, neurodivergent refers to people whose brains function in ways that diverge from societal norms, including autism, ADHD, dyslexia and other cognitive variations. This text use the term for autism and AuDHD (autism and ADHD). Neurotypical describes those whose neurological development and functioning align with what society considers “standard” or typical. These terms help frame differences without pathologizing us.

Please info dump me; The dominant narrative often claims that neurodivergent people lack empathy and that we can’t read social cues . This assumption is rooted in neurotypical bias rather than empirical truth. Neurodivergent people don’t lack empathy (any more than neurotypicals do), and there’s finally a term for it; the “double empathy problem”, coined by Damian Milton. It challenges the idea that autist’s lack empathy, and instead points to the misunderstandings between autistic and non-autistic people as mutual. It’s a breakdown in reciprocal understanding, not a one-sided deficit. Both parties struggle to interpret each other’s communication styles, emotional expressions and social cues. In other words, it’s not that autistic people can’t empathize, but that neurotypical and autistic people often speak different social languages.

Neurodivergent individuals often communicate more effectively with one another than with neurotypical peers, and visa versa. What looks like “missed signals” from the outside neurotypical lens, may actually be a rich exchange unfolding in a different rhythm — perhaps one “monologue” at a time; I hear yours, then you hear mine.

These are different rules from the neurotypicals, where the expectation is that there is a dialogue (taking turns more rapidly), then to talk a bit longer about your experience or point of view (and God forbid talk about your special interest unless you’re explicitly asked to elaborate). For many neurodivergent people the thrill of learning a new skill or topic is very welcome. This “info dumping” can even be our love language, a “sapio-sexual delight”.

We can be deeply attuned, layered with shared references, sensory awareness and pattern-based understanding. It’s our “brain dance”, our body-mind connection through words. Not exclusively, we also move and dance our corporeal body in communicative ways — no wonder there are several neurodivergent species in the art departments.

To the outside (neurotypical) observer, this might seem blunt, overly intense or scattered — but from within they can be profoundly connective and full of nuance.

Recognizing this, reframes the story: it’s not that neurodivergent people can’t communicate, but that we have different communication styles. We might speak alien to you — but, be mindful about who defines the right adequate way to be(have) — these social scripts that we’re all supposed to abide by.