Why Neurotypical Empathy Isn’t the Gold Standard

Bridgette Hamstead

Empathy is often treated as a singular concept with one correct way of being expressed. In dominant culture, that way tends to mirror neurotypical norms. It is assumed that empathy should be immediate, verbal, emotionally attuned in a very specific way, and expressed through particular facial expressions, tones of voice, and body language. This narrow definition not only fails to capture the full spectrum of human emotional experience, it also wrongly pathologizes neurodivergent ways of connecting. Autistic and otherwise neurodivergent people are frequently judged for not appearing to have empathy, when in fact our empathy is often just as strong or stronger, expressed in forms that may not be recognized or understood by those outside our neurotype.

The double empathy problem, a concept developed by autistic scholar Damian Milton, describes a mutual gap in understanding between neurotypical and autistic individuals. It suggests that the breakdown in communication and connection is not due to a lack of empathy in autistic people, but rather to a difference in communication styles, processing, and worldviews that affect both groups equally. Yet the burden of this misunderstanding has historically fallen entirely on autistic people. We are told we are lacking, broken, or emotionally deficient when what is often happening is a mismatch of social expectations and a failure of neurotypical systems to recognize difference as difference rather than deficiency.

Neurotypical empathy is typically measured by the ability to mirror others’ emotions in socially recognizable ways. This might include things like sustained eye contact, a soothing tone of voice, or timely verbal reassurance. These behaviors have come to represent the “correct” way to show understanding and concern. But these expressions are culturally constructed and contextually dependent. In some cases, they can be performed without genuine emotional connection. The ability to mimic empathy is not the same as feeling it. Many autistic people struggle with the performative side of empathy, but that does not mean we lack care or compassion. In fact, the opposite is often true. Our empathy is often embodied, cognitive, and deeply internalized. We may feel emotions so intensely that we are overwhelmed by them and temporarily unable to respond in expected ways.

Autistic empathy can look like problem-solving, research, direct action, or quiet presence. It can be delayed due to processing time, but no less sincere. It can show up as loyalty, deep listening, or simply remembering a specific need someone mentioned once in passing and quietly meeting that need without fanfare. These forms of empathy may not register in environments conditioned to look for neurotypical markers of emotional attunement, but they are rich and meaningful nonetheless. The expectation that empathy must be immediate and emotionally expressive privileges speed and visibility over depth and sincerity.

There is also a particular violence in telling people who feel too much that they do not feel enough. Many autistic individuals experience emotional flooding, intense affective empathy, and an almost unbearable sense of responsibility for others’ pain. This level of emotional intensity can lead to shutdowns or withdrawal, which are often misread as apathy. In reality, this is a form of emotional regulation and protection. Autistic empathy often comes with profound moral commitment. We may not always say the right thing at the right time, but we care deeply about justice, fairness, and the well-being of others. This ethical form of empathy is no less powerful than socially performative empathy. It is rooted in action and values rather than appearance.

The hierarchy that positions neurotypical empathy as superior is deeply ableist. It devalues forms of connection that do not conform to dominant social norms and falsely assumes that only one kind of emotional literacy is valid. This belief influences not only personal relationships but also clinical practice, educational settings, and workplace dynamics. Autistic people are more likely to be misunderstood, isolated, or labeled as cold or antisocial because we do not perform empathy in the ways that are expected. This misreading has real consequences. It shapes how we are treated, what supports we receive, and how our intentions are interpreted in moments of conflict or distress.

Challenging this hierarchy means acknowledging that empathy is not a fixed or singular skill. It is a relationship between people that depends on context, trust, communication, and mutual understanding. It means recognizing that neurotypical people also frequently misunderstand or fail to empathize with neurodivergent individuals, but that their failures are not pathologized in the same way. It means making space for neurodivergent expressions of care without forcing them to mimic neurotypical behaviors. It means honoring difference not only in how we think and feel but in how we connect and express love.

Reframing empathy also means asking deeper questions about what it is for. If empathy is meant to help people feel seen, supported, and understood, then the metric for evaluating it should be the impact it has, not the way it is performed. We must move beyond superficial markers of compassion and instead cultivate relationships that are rooted in mutual respect, patience, and authenticity. Neurodivergent people should not have to prove their humanity by mimicking emotional norms that were never made for us.

The assumption that neurotypical empathy is the gold standard not only fails to recognize the legitimacy of neurodivergent emotional experience, it reinforces systemic bias and deepens social exclusion. It places the burden of misunderstanding entirely on autistic and neurodivergent people, while absolving neurotypical systems of their failure to adapt, learn, and listen. But empathy is not a one-way street. It is a shared responsibility. And the more we recognize and respect the diversity of emotional expression, the more we can begin to build communities that are genuinely inclusive, compassionate, and just.

Neurodivergent empathy is real, meaningful, and often deeply profound. It may not always be expressed in ways that align with dominant cultural expectations, but that does not make it any less valid or powerful. Recognizing this truth requires us to move beyond narrow definitions of emotional expression and to confront the ableism embedded in how we measure human connection. True empathy is not about mirroring a specific tone or posture. It is about making room for each person’s unique way of showing care. When we stop demanding sameness and begin honoring difference, we create the conditions for genuine understanding. That is the foundation of a more compassionate and inclusive world—one where no one is asked to mask their way of loving in order to be believed.