Book Review: The Soul of Autism by William Stillman

This is Bill Stillman's second book exploring the divine, the paranormal, and their relationship to autism. Its subtitle, Looking Beyond Labels to Unveil Spiritual Secrets of the Heart Savants should give readers a pretty good idea of what to expect: a book which goes way beyond the typical to explore subjects of great interest to some - and of no interest at all to others. Only you know which category you fall into!

Bill Stillman posits that the differences in the brains of people with autism may make them more aware of and sensitive to the world beyond our five senses. To collect the stories in the book, Stillman asked for stories that cross back and forth among various different "worlds."

It doesn't really matter, for Stillman's purposes, whether a person with autism has (or has appeared to) experienced ESP, communication with animals, voices of the dead, or divine communication. The overall point is that those things which stand outside our daily experience are far more available to those with autism than they are to the neurotypical person. Just as importantly, Stillman asserts, people with autism are more open, more empathetic and more compassionate than other people. In short, he says, "The world needs autism."

Does this idea hold water? Like any exploration of the divine or paranormal, the answer depends entirely upon the predisposition of the person reading the book. Some will dismiss it entirely; others will find that it strikes a chord with their experience.

In a sense, this book defines a journey that Stillman takes from home to home and institution to institution, interviewing people with autism and the people who care for them. At each setting, he learns about extraordinary experiences that could be described as supernatural. Some are relatively low-key (a special relationship with animals, for example). Others are far outside the realm of the normal: individuals channeling the spirits of the dead, or speaking as the personal interpreter of the divine.

In many cases, since the person with autism is non-verbal, Stillman uses a controversial technique called Facilitated Communication (FC) to gather their thoughts. FC involves placing the hands of the person with autism on a keyboard, and then "supporting" their arms as they type. While some people feel that FC has provided non-verbal people with a key to communication, others believe that the supporting facilitators - and not the people with autism - are behind the messages typed.

As always, Bill's work makes me think. When my son was one and two years old, he attended a preschool in a church. Every day, he insisted on spending time in the sanctuary and exploring the stained glass images of angels, saints, and Christ. When he was three, he moved to a synagogue preschool where he learned the blessings and prayers in Hebrew with no effort at all.

Does this make him an especially spiritual person?

Tom seems to have an unusual ability: He "sees" musical notes as the colors of the light spectrum. He also has perfect pitch. Do these qualities mean something?

When left to my own devices, I think these things mean nothing at all. At most, I feel, they mean that Tom is musically gifted, and a lover of the arts. When I read Bill's work, though, I can't help but wonder: Are those special moments and connections significant?

While it's one thing to connect people with autism to all things spiritual, it seems to me to be quite another thing to connect them with the spirits of the dead; the voices of animals; and so on. Such "connections" have been the focus of many investigations, by many different people - and from Houdini to Penn and Teller, we've learned that such connections are all too often hoaxes.

While Bill provides potential reasons for such strange and wonderful connections, I can't help but feel that his desire to see autism as something extraordinary may be coloring his observations. After all, in the world of the spiritual, seeing should never be believing. It's far too easy to pull the wool over the eyes of those who want to believe.