Bridgette Hamstead

 

The idea that early intervention is the best way to support autistic children is widely accepted in both medical and educational spaces. Parents are told that the earlier their child is diagnosed and placed into intensive therapy, the better their chances of success. The assumption is that intervention will help autistic children develop skills that will allow them to function more easily in a neurotypical world. The problem is that early intervention, as it currently exists, is built on ableist assumptions about autism. It is not designed to support autistic children in understanding and embracing their neurodivergence. Instead, it is designed to make them appear less autistic. The goal is not to help them thrive as they are, but to make them more palatable to a society that refuses to accommodate them. This approach does not improve outcomes for autistic children. It causes harm.

Early intervention is often framed as an opportunity to provide autistic children with the skills they need to succeed, but what this usually means in practice is training them to suppress their natural behaviors. Many early intervention programs, particularly those rooted in Applied Behavior Analysis, are focused on compliance rather than genuine learning. Autistic children are taught to make eye contact, sit still, respond to their names, and suppress stimming behaviors. These interventions are presented as harmless or even beneficial, but they are built on the idea that autism is a problem to be fixed rather than a different way of processing the world. The message autistic children receive is that their instincts are wrong and that their natural ways of communicating, regulating, and engaging with their environment are unacceptable.

The pressure to diagnose and intervene as early as possible is also based on the false assumption that autism is something that can be treated or corrected if caught early enough. This thinking comes from outdated and deeply ableist views of autism as a disorder that must be managed rather than a neurotype that should be understood and supported. The push for early intervention is not about helping autistic children lead fulfilling lives on their own terms. It is about making them more tolerable to neurotypical parents, teachers, and peers. It prioritizes masking over authenticity, forcing autistic children to conform rather than creating environments where they can thrive as themselves.

Many autistic adults who were subjected to early intervention therapies describe their experiences as traumatic. They speak of being forced to endure hours of therapy designed to train them out of behaviors that were never harmful in the first place. They recall being rewarded for suppressing their discomfort and punished for expressing their needs in ways that were deemed inappropriate. They describe the long-term consequences of this conditioning, including anxiety, depression, and an inability to understand their own emotions. Masking becomes second nature, not because it is helpful, but because it is necessary for survival. The impact of early intervention does not disappear when a child grows up. The lessons of compliance and self-denial follow them into adulthood, shaping their relationships, their self-esteem, and their mental health.

One of the most harmful aspects of early intervention is that it places the responsibility for change on the autistic child rather than on the world around them. Instead of modifying the environment to support neurodivergent needs, early intervention focuses on modifying the child to fit an environment that remains hostile to them. Autistic children are not taught that their needs are valid. They are taught that their needs are inconveniences to others. They are not encouraged to advocate for accommodations. They are trained to hide their struggles so they will not be seen as disruptive. The result is a generation of autistic adults who struggle with self-advocacy, who do not trust their own instincts, and who have internalized the idea that they must perform neurotypicality in order to be accepted.

The argument in favor of early intervention is often that it helps autistic children learn skills they will need in adulthood, but this argument ignores the reality that many of these so-called skills are actually forms of forced compliance. Eye contact is not a necessary life skill. Suppressing stimming is not an achievement. Sitting quietly in a classroom without movement breaks does not prepare a child for success. These are not tools for thriving. They are tools for making autistic children less disruptive to neurotypical expectations. The assumption that early intervention leads to better outcomes only holds true if we define “better outcomes” as greater conformity. If we shift our definition of success to include mental health, self-acceptance, and autonomy, early intervention as it currently exists fails completely.

What autistic children actually need is not early intervention aimed at masking their autism, but early support that affirms their neurodivergence and provides them with the tools to navigate the world in ways that work for them. Instead of intensive therapies that train compliance, autistic children need accommodations that allow them to regulate their sensory experiences and engage with learning on their own terms. Instead of social skills training that pressures them to mimic neurotypical behavior, they need education on communication styles that honor and respect their natural ways of interacting. Instead of rigid behavioral programs, they need flexible environments that prioritize their well-being over their ability to conform.

Parents and educators who truly want to support autistic children should focus not on changing the child, but on changing the world around them. Schools should be structured in ways that allow for sensory-friendly learning, movement breaks, and multiple modes of communication. Therapy should be affirming and focused on helping children understand themselves rather than training them to perform neurotypical behaviors. Most importantly, autistic children should be raised with the knowledge that they are not broken, that their needs are valid, and that they have the right to exist as they are without constantly having to justify or hide their differences.

The idea that early intervention is necessary comes from a place of fear—the fear that an autistic child who does not receive therapy will struggle later in life. But what autistic children need is not to be trained into neurotypicality. They need to be supported in understanding their own needs, given the tools to self-advocate, and surrounded by adults who respect their autonomy. They need environments that are built to accommodate neurodivergence rather than ones that demand autistic people change in order to be accepted. Early intervention, as it is currently practiced, does not give autistic children the best start in life. It teaches them that who they are is unacceptable. The real intervention that is needed is not for autistic children, but for the systems that continue to treat autism as something that needs to be erased.

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