Write Stuff

The Theory of Mind

Autism Awareness Month is nearly through and I wanted to make sure that I touched upon the Theory of Mind at least for one post. So far we have looked at the difference between written and spoken language and the sense of motion in thoughts, feelings and words.

Today’s post is about empathy. Autistics are notorious for lacking empathy, or at least it seems that way. The Theory of Mind suggests that many people with autism do not understand that other people have their own thoughts, feelings and beliefs. If the autistic child is happy, everyone is happy.

I used to work with a very high functioning autistic boy who would become frustrated when I told him I didn’t know an answer to a question. This was the case only when he knew the answer. He believed that he and I knew the same things.  Other children I have known become confused when someone else is crying when they themselves are content.

I guess that the seeming lack of empathy could rest in the possibility that the autistic individual doesn’t understand why others don’t have the same thoughts and feelings as he does. Ironically, it may be that neurotypical people seem to lack empathy.

There are some philosophies that touch upon issues derived from the Theory of Mind. I’m just going to mention one for its literary implications. The collective unconscious is a fascinating subject that I find to have strong connections to the Theory of Mind.

Melville’s Moby Dick was a failure during its time. The book was later recognized as a masterpiece. Maybe this work was simply out of sync with the collective unconscious. Think about things that gain popularity in waves. Pirates, “wassup,” the fascination with Paris Hilton are rooted in a seemingly common interest.

There seems to be an underlying consciousness that affects people on a universal level. Perhaps the Theory of Mind has some basis across the board. After all, writers are trying to evoke similar thoughts and emotions from their readers. We want to help others understand the moments our characters–and even our selves–experience.