Autism Vs The System

Two versions of the same form—one from a school and one from a doctor—both created by neurotypical professionals, making it difficult to provide accurate and sufficient information. 

For the past ten years, I have had to go through women to access these forms, and as a result, I was never given them until now. The fact that I have now received them through men is worth noting, as this is ultimately a child welfare issue.

The forms in question are applications for the child to be assessed for an autism diagnosis. They are not a diagnosis themselves but rather a request for a trained professional to evaluate him. That specialist, based on their expertise, experience, and training, will determine whether the child exhibits traits of autism. However, before the application can even reach that stage, an authority figure must first sign off, verifying that the request is relevant based on their own observations.

So far, the female professionals involved have stated that because the child refuses to attend school, they cannot assess whether an autism evaluation is necessary. When I explained that school refusal due to overwhelm and pressure is, in itself, a common symptom of autism, they reiterated the same stance—that they cannot assess the request as relevant.

A home education officer, who works with autistic children daily, acknowledged the child’s struggles, identifying them as a form of autism known as Pathological Demand Avoidance (PDA). However, she is not a diagnostic professional. Before she could complete the form, Social Services pressured the child into returning to the state school system, resetting the entire process.

This time, however, male authorities have acknowledged the possibility that I, as the child’s father, may have a valid point. This pattern has persisted throughout the child’s life. When we present the reality in clear, undeniable terms, the neurotypical mindset itself becomes an obstacle—causing further trauma on top of the challenges of autism. Those in authority resist accountability, refusing to acknowledge their role in the problem.

From the autistic perspective, authority figures often equate their position with infallibility, leading to a lack of trust. This is not a failing on the part of the autistic individual but rather a systemic issue. When neurotypicals claim that autistic individuals struggle with communication, they fail to recognize how frustrating and invalidating the process is from the autistic person’s point of view.

The child and I have independently reached the same conclusions through our own lived experiences. Even the child’s mother, despite our differences, agrees with this assessment. I have always respected the child’s ability to form his own opinions—it would be impossible to impose a perspective on him anyway. Yet, neurotypical authorities struggle to comprehend this fundamental aspect of autism.

This resistance to acknowledging the reality of autism—particularly in men who can clearly articulate these issues—is a significant barrier to diagnosis. It is also why homeschooling would have been the best option for the child all along.

Because of the extensive waiting list, the child will not see a diagnostic specialist for another five years—by which point, he will be 19. We are just one example of a family, and of future generations, being let down by the system. And the reason for this? Female authorities refuse to collaborate with men.

This is not a misogynistic statement—it is my lived experience. I sincerely wish the situation were different. If my concerns had been taken seriously from the beginning, the child could have been diagnosed years ago. Our entire family would have been far less stressed, and the child’s life could have been significantly easier.

The child is not naïve. He has seen all of this for exactly what it is.