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Does Spoon Theory Apply to Neurodivergence?

If you don't know what "Spoon Theory" is, you've probably at least seen it mentioned -- maybe someone saying "I don't have enough spoons to do this right now," or "If you have the spoons, could you help me understand?" Without context, it sounds like nonsense, but if you look to the original source, it's an incredibly powerful piece of writing, and a brilliant way to explain disability to able-bodied individuals.

"Spoon Theory" originated as a way to explain chronic illness: when the author's friend asked her what it was like to live with Lupus, the author (Christine Miserandino) handed her 12 spoons. Miserandino then said that every task that day would cost one spoon, and asked her friend to decide how to spend her spoons that day. They walked through this hypothetical day, making decisions about how spoons would be spent. Sometimes, the friend had to be reminded of tasks that were so easy easy that she usually didn't even think about them -- like taking a shower and getting dressed. After losing spoons for all those behaviors that most people consider a bare necessity, the friend made it to work with only half her spoons remaining; by evening, one spoon was left, while tasks like cook, eat dinner, and clean loomed out of reach. Without even leaving the diner where she and her friend were sitting -- without resources or blog posts or academic sources -- Miserandino had given her friend the briefest glimpse of some of the hard questions that people with chronic illness face every single day: do I shower, or do I eat? Can I really afford to go to work today -- and can I afford not to?? How do I feed myself if I can't cook or clean???



First, let me just say that "Spoon Theory" is poorly named: "Theory" implies that there's uncertainty about the veracity of the concept, and I would argue that no aspect of Spoon Theory is in question. It is obvious that chronic illness will reduce what you can accomplish in a day; it is obvious that if your body is fighting to stay alive, then it won't have the resources left for infinite other tasks; it is obvious that tasks require energy. Break down any one of these concepts and you can find research to support it (though some of it is such common sense that it's hard to know what to search). 

No part of this post is a question of whether Spoon Theory is an accurate portrayal of chronic illness. 

But, does Spoon Theory apply to neurodiversity??

A Minor Reinterpretation: No one has "unlimited" spoons.

Miserandino described her idea as a way to demonstrate that while the average person has unlimited "spoons," this is not the case for people with chronic illness -- which is why people with chronic illness have to make choices that most people never even consider. While her sentiment is good, the concept itself isn't entirely accurate: no one has infinite spoons. Even a professional athlete can push themselves to the point of injury, and even the most driven and prolific professional will reach a point of exhaustion. But, saying that a professional athlete has a "limited" number of spoons for physical activity is like saying that a billionaire has a "limited" amount of money when he goes grocery shopping; the limit is so high that it never actually forces them to make difficult choices. Because the limit is so high, in practice it might as well not exist.

If this sounds nitpicky, know that that is not my intention; I'm saying this because it sincerely helps people understand and accept Spoon Theory. If you tell an able person "You have unlimited potential and never need to make any choices in your life, ever," they'll be confused and think you have some vast misunderstandings of what it is to be able; but if you say "You have fewer limitations than I do, and I make daily decisions that you don't even need to think about," that feels so clear that it's not even in question. So, for the sake of clarity, let's interpret Spoon Theory to mean that people with chronic illness have far fewer "spoons" than able people, and that their low "spoon" budget forces them to make difficult choices every day.

So, what would Spoon Theory look like for Neurodivergence?

I am very hesitant to say that neurodivergence means having fewer spoons than neurotypical individuals have. There are a a couple immediate problems with that statement: 

  1. It encourages the idea that neurodiversity is inherently a deficit.
  2. Anyone who's seen us dive into a special interest knows that our energy and drive can be our superpower, which is really hard to reconcile with the "fewer spoons" idea. 
Neurotypicals often think that we are lazy, unmotivated, and making excuses, largely because they see us clearly capable of things they may find difficult (how many people can spend 36 straight hours researching an obscure concept just because they're curious?), only to then say we're "out of spoons" when it comes to supposedly-simple tasks like showering, going to a work social event, or tidying the house. This is because Spoon Theory is not a good explanation for neurodivergence in its original form; however, with minor adjustment, I believe that Spoon Theory can be a useful language for explaining the neurodivergent experience.

Instead of, "Neurodivergent folks have fewer spoons," let's try, "The number of spoons a task requires is different for neurodivergent individuals than it is for typically-developing individuals."

Or, to put it another way, there are often hidden steps neurodivergent folks have to take in order to do a task that appears simple to a neurotypical. 

Let's look at socializing as an example: for a neurotypical, the task is simple. Socialize. 1 spoon please! But for me, in order to socialize, I need to: 

  • Monitor my volume
  • Monitor my tone
  • Monitor how long they speak for, and ensure my response isn't significantly longer (otherwise, I'll be told I "talk too much," or "monologue at people"). 
  • Check for signs that I'm boring them
  • Check for signs that I've accidentally offended them
  • Rephrase things to make sure I say them in a way that won't be misunderstood
  • Rephrase things to make sure I don't come across as too blunt or aggressive
  • Check for signs that it's my turn to speak
  • Check for signs that they're waiting to speak
  • Check my body language: do I seem standoffish? awkward? tense? Hands in the right place? Am I stimming in a disruptive way?
  • Oops, they told a funny joke! Make sure to laugh, and don't forget to check that eye muscles are engaged to ensure it looks as sincere as it is!
  • Calm down that sympathetic nervous system response; yes, this is difficult, but I've got this! Don't panic, don't panic...
  • Okay don't forget any of these steps... circle back to the top, don't forget anything.... CRAP, did they just ask a question while I was thinking that? Did I hear what it was? Is there a polite way to ask them to repeat themselves without them thinking I wasn't listening?? Oh right, this step is supposed to be remembering all these steps; actually talking is the "socializing" part that's supposed to be so easy...
You get the point. For a neurotypical, most (or all!) of that happens naturally, without any conscious thought. But for me, much of it is a conscious, active process. 

But how does that apply to spoon theory?

Well, for the sake of simplicity, let's pretend that I listed absolutely all the extra steps I take to socialize; let's assume that neurotypicals don't need to take any of these extra steps, and let's say that each extra step costs 1 spoon; that would mean that it costs me 13 more spoons to socialize than it does for a neurotypical. So sure, the actual socializing might only be 1 spoon for me, but when you add all the things that I have to do in order to socialize, that brings the net cost of socializing up to 14 spoons, while it's only 1 spoon for the neurotypical. It might just be simpler to say that socializing costs me 14 spoons, while it costs 1 spoon for a neurotypical.

Now, I'm not saying that these proportions are precise. There are many ways this could be reinterpreted. Maybe the extra tasks only cost me a quarter of a spoon, making socializing closer to 4 spoons for me compared to 1 for neurotypicals. Or maybe neurotypicals also pay for these extra steps, but because for them these steps come naturally, it costs them less; maybe they pay 1/4 spoon per extra task and I pay 1 spoon per extra task, so socializing is just over 4 spoons for them and 14 spoons for me. 

And some of it probably depends on the individual; maybe it's more like the average cost to socialize for neurotypicals is 3 spoons with a range from 1 to 8, while the average cost to socialize for neurotypicals is 10 spoons with a range from 2 to 20. Because we're all different. We all have different strengths and different weaknesses. The difference is, when you're neurotypical, you usually have the strengths that people expect you to have, and weaknesses that people can empathize with; when you're neurodivergent, people may not recognize any value in your strengths, and they usually are thoroughly baffled by your weaknesses. "Okay, so the cafeteria is out of turkey wraps today, and that's what you have for lunch every day, but...why can't you just have something else???" How do we explain that something is draining our spoons when most people don't even notice it costs a spoon to begin with? How do I explain that when my routine is changed, I need to reevaluate the rest of my day to see whether anything else has been impacted, determine whether there are any new risks or benefits introduced by this change, make sure I've considered everything that will be expected of me given the new circumstances, and so on and so forth? And that's without considering that thanks to poor interoception and/or alexithymia, sometimes I'm not even fully aware of all the steps I'm taking, even as they drain my energy.

What I'm trying to say is, Spoon Theory can absolutely be applied to neurodiversity, but maybe not in its original form. Maybe the difference between neurodivergent folks and neurotypical folks isn't how many spoons we start with, but how many spoons we have to spend to perform the tasks we're expected to perform, in the environments within which we exist. If you're neurotypical, please remember that the expectations you live up to every day were designed for people with your neurotype; no one said "let's design the work day around expectations that will be unsustainable for us," or "let's adhere to social norms that will burn us out." That's not true for everyone. And if you're neurodivergent, know that that's okay! If you can identify which tasks drain your spoons and which tasks conserve them, then that's a great step towards finding a life that will be fulfilling and successful for you -- regardless of whether it's what others expect.

Comments

  1. Thank you so much for putting into words what I felt for so long : as a psychotherapist and neurodivergent person myself, I struggled to explain this to my patients and my loved ones. Thinking this way is so helpful and powerful, it allows us to explain to others and to ourselves how we function, and to make sure we're kind to ourselves, as we much need it!

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