Books like How to Be Human — picked by fans

Obviously, some of us are more aware of patterns than others. Simon Baron-Cohen—a psychologist at Cambridge, and one of the world’s leading authorities on autism—has found that a facility for pattern recognition is strongly correlated not only with gender (males predominate) but with autism.

He led a survey of 600,000 Britons aimed at determining if they were primarily empathizers, adept at connecting with other people, or systemizers, more interested in detecting patterns and learning how things work. Those at the extreme end of systemizing were considerably more likely to be autistic.

Baron-Cohen’s empathizer/systemizer questionnaire is included at the back of the book. Taking the bait, I found myself on the cusp of extreme. Which may explain a lot.

We live in a world that all too often pathologizes autism and sees autistic people as broken and in need of fixing. In this book, Dr. Barry Prizant sees neurodivergent people through a strengths-based lens.

I appreciate the importance he places on listening to and understanding the experiences of autistic people and how he uses those experiences to illustrate the unique gifts that autistic people bring to the world. Dr. Prizant has helped to inspire the continued evolution of our Cortica clinical care model, and his book highlights the importance of amplifying neurodiverse voices.

Our society places a premium on verbal thinking, but over the course of my career, I’ve had the pleasure of learning from neurodivergent children who see the world around them in images and use those images to solve mundane and complex challenges alike. This book by Temple Grandin has helped me to shift my own mindset as a verbal thinker and appreciate the abilities of those who think in more abstract, non-linear, and systemic ways.

As a BCBA and pediatric neurologist, having the opportunity to hear directly from Grandin, who is autistic, is invaluable. I share her perspective that we do autistic people–and society as a whole–a great disservice when we relegate visual thinkers to the sidelines instead of empowering them to be the artists, designers, engineers, inventors, mechanics, and innovators our world desperately needs.

Parents’ and professionals’ judgments of neurodivergent children, which are often based on perceived deficits, can limit those children’s choices and opportunities. Dictating the course of neurodivergent children’s care without involving them as active participants can also have dire, long-lasting consequences.

This book by Martha Leary and Anne Donnellan illustrates the importance of understanding the sensory and movement experiences of autistic people, which is only possible if you take the time to actively listen to those experiences and use them to shape an approach to care. The book helped to inform the care model we use at Cortica and reinforced my commitment to providing a personalized level of support that integrates children’s engagement in the process and honors each child’s unique journey, needs, and strengths.

What I love about this book is that Christopher is such an unusual child and sees the world in ways that most of us do not.

In reading this bizarre and disturbing mystery story, we begin to see the world differently ourselves. I like, too, the fact that what is different about him is never named – it’s not some specific diagnosis or categorization – he is just Christopher, the odd, mathematically gifted, strangely reacting, teenager.

When he becomes terrified of what we might take as quite ordinary events and places, I begin to feel some of his difference – to feel what it might be like to be so much an outsider. It helped me to remember that we are all different.

There are now many excellent books on the market written by people with autism about living with autism. Donna Williams might be considered one of the pioneers in this regard. I love the way that this book gives insight into ways of being which would not traditionally be considered ‘neurotypical’.

Reading first-hand accounts of autism is a must for anyone who is interested in neurodiversity. Williams’ death in 2017 represented a great loss to autism communities and, indeed, to the world in general.

Ellen Outside the Lines is the book I wish I had when I was a young person. Ellen is autistic and A.J. Sass writes her experience with authenticity and compassion.

I was completely drawn into the ups and downs that Ellen faced during the school trip: from the change in routine to friendship drama and questions of identity. I didn’t want the book or the adventure to end! 

Oh, where to start with this one! I adored this story about a baseball-loving autistic girl.

The voice is so real, and the characterization dismantles so many stereotypes, at the same time as celebrating sport and kids in pursuit of their dreams. I loved how the author allowed us to understand a parent’s concern and worry about their autistic child, but this was balanced perfectly with Vivy’s courage, passion, and determination as she drives the story forward.

It’s smart and fun, endearing and utterly charming. 

Like many late-diagnosed Autistic women, I don’t see myself reflected in diagnostic criteria that view Autism through a medical pathology lens and focus on identifying “deficits” and “abnormalities”. I find this way of talking about Autism deeply uncomfortable and othering.

By contrast, this book provides a practical and detailed guide to what Autism actually looks like, focusing on our valid differences and difficulties, using neutral, not stigmatizing, language. As a clinical psychologist working with Autistic adults, I appreciate how this book offers examples from people who mask (hide) their more obvious Autistic differences and uses personal stories to illustrate this.

I’m a passionate member of the neurodiversity-affirming movement, and this book makes an important contribution to destigmatizing Autism and improving the care Autistic people experience from health professionals.

This book uses the fantastic metaphor of an “upside-down” bat in a world of mammals.

At school, everything she does is perceived as “wrong” because it is different from the world of her classmates and instructor. But Bitsy learns to find joy in her differences and takes initiative to celebrate the strengths of not just herself but her classmates.

This picture book is a great way to introduce readers, young and old, to being neurodivergent in a neurotypical world, as well as how to welcome neurodivergent folks and create a neurodivergent-inclusive space.