By Jessa Lindgren
In recent years, there has been an alarming rise in political rhetoric aimed at eradicating autism, most notably from figures like U.S. Secretary of Health and Human Services Robert F. Kennedy Jr. His dangerous assertions about vaccines and autism not only perpetuate harmful myths but also risk undoing decades of progress made by advocates who seek to promote acceptance, understanding, and support. But what’s even more damaging is how this focus on finding a cure or assigning blame for autism takes away resources that could be better spent on therapies, education, and services.
As someone who has lived through the personal impact of the “cause and cure” mentality—especially as a woman with autism who wasn’t diagnosed until adulthood—I see firsthand how these misguided approaches hurt not just my family, but millions of others. This is a deeply personal story, but it’s also one that reflects the broader consequences for an entire community that is continually sidelined.
The “Cause and Cure” mindset: Dangerous and disempowering
When we focus on curing autism, we imply that autism is a problem that needs fixing. This is a harmful narrative. Autism is not a disease. It is a neurodevelopmental variation—a different way of interacting with the world. Yet for decades, many organizations and voices have prioritized finding a cure, and people like RFK Jr. continue to perpetuate myths that autism is a tragic condition that must be eradicated. This rhetoric is not just inaccurate; it is damaging.
These ideas become even more dangerous when they influence public policy. Instead of focusing on critical issues like early diagnosis, therapies, and family support, we find ourselves in a battle over whether autism should even exist. What many don’t realize is that the push for a cure often comes at the expense of support services that could significantly improve the lives of those on the spectrum.
A personal reflection: Growing up with misunderstood symptoms
Growing up, I was diagnosed with ADHD—nothing more. My symptoms were written off as simply talking too much and being overly energetic. Autism wasn’t even considered because the assumption was that it only applied to non-verbal boys—not someone like me. This stereotype persisted even in medical and educational circles, and as a result, I was never given the right diagnosis, nor the services I needed.
The reality is that autism in girls often presents differently. Many girls on the spectrum are socially talkative, masking their struggles in ways that aren’t easily recognized. But because autism was largely associated with non-verbal boys, my difficulties went unnoticed, and I was raised believing that I would grow out of my ADHD as an adult.
What this mindset fails to consider is how autism manifests differently in girls and how its underdiagnosis in women leads to missed opportunities for intervention and support. If I had been given the proper diagnosis earlier, my experience might have been very different.
The impact on my children: Waiting for support
Now, as a mother of two boys with autism who are non-verbal, I watch as they wait for the services and support they need and deserve, like therapy. Instead of focusing on providing these services and building a more supportive infrastructure for neurodivergent children, the government is focusing on dismantling what little progress we’ve made.
RFK Jr. and other anti-vaccine advocates have worked hard to sow doubt about autism’s causes, leading to mistrust in vaccines and further perpetuating the harmful myth that autism is something to be feared and avoided. In doing so, they draw attention away from the need for critical services—such as speech therapy, occupational therapy, and tailored educational programs—that could have a real, tangible impact on my children’s lives, and so many others.
We need to shift the narrative. Instead of focusing on finding a cure, we must prioritize support and acceptance. The conversation should be about improving services, providing early intervention, and creating inclusive environments for everyone, including those on the autism spectrum. This is where our focus should lie—not in trying to erase autism or make it something it isn’t.
Autism is not something to be feared or eliminated. It’s part of the human condition—and just as we embrace other forms of diversity, we must embrace neurodiversity as well.
Protecting the Autism community
The rhetoric around curing autism is damaging, not just in terms of public perception, but in terms of policy. As the autism community—myself included—pushes for more support, we need to ensure that the voices of those who are directly impacted by autism are heard. Too often, those with the loudest platforms are the ones who frame autism as a problem to be solved, while the voices of people on the spectrum are drowned out by the fear-based narratives.
We need to focus on what truly matters: creating a world that works for all of us, where access to critical therapies is the priority, and where acceptance, not eradication, is the goal.
As a community, we must reject the cause and cure mentality and push for real change. This begins with ensuring that our leaders—whether they’re political figures or advocates—understand that the focus must be on supporting those with autism, not stigmatizing them. It means acknowledging that neurodiversity is a reality and embracing that reality by pushing for better policies, inclusive education, and accessible services for all.
The future of the autism community depends on how we shift the conversation now. We have a choice: continue down the harmful path of erasure and cure, or demand a future built on understanding, support, and acceptance.
Jessa Lindgren is an independent journalist with Beyond the Headlines in Seattle, WA.


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