Camouflage, understanding, and a Big Professor

I’ve recently become aware that there are a number of non-typical things that I do when speaking to people, particularly when it’s a one-to-one conversation. The conversation subject could be anything, but the examples I use below are based on a work scenario, where something technical is being discussed.

Perhaps the most obvious (and annoying) trait in these scenarios is for me to finish other people’s sentences, in a questioning tone of voice. If you know or work with me, then chances are you are used to me doing this. I’m sure it must be a little off-putting when you first meet me.

Also, I want you to know that I am listening to you, and to this end, I interject with lots of reassuring noises – lots of uh-huhs and yups and yeps when you are speaking. Everyone does this, of course, but I’ve noted that I seem to do it rather more frequently than average. Sometimes, when stressed, I’m making an almost constant stream of acknowledging noises.

Another trait that I have is to ask lots of questions. If I’m going to help you (and lets be honest about this, I’m going to try and help you whether you are after my advice or not), then I need to be able to understand the problem you are facing.

I think there is a clear reason for these behaviours: I want to understand, and I want you to see that I understand. Ok, so that’s two reasons, but the underlying causes are very closely linked.

My ASD social interaction problems mean that I’m never sure how I should non-verbally behave in two-way conversations. So instead of whatever it is that ordinary people do to non-verbally signal their empathy and understanding (just what do people do, incidentally?), I use verbal signals that I’m in tune with what the other person is saying.

In light of this, my behaviours make a lot of sense. Finishing sentences, whilst annoying, clearly demonstrates that I have been listening and taking in what the other person was saying. The frequent noises of agreement do the same, too.

My asking of questions may also give this impression, but in reality it serves a different purpose. What I’m trying to do is build up a mental picture of the thing you are telling me about, in a language that makes more sense to me. This mental picture is typically quite visual and often manipulatable like a 3d model, with difficult concepts encapsulated into boxes with labels in my mind’s eye. This is what seems to work best for me, and it helps me see the bigger picture of your problem. This is me trying to understand in my own language, rather than wanting you to see that I do understand.

Wanting to understand is vital to me, perhaps simply because I am aware that I think in a different way to typical people. Experience has shown me that other people tend to grasp concepts far more quickly than I do. They can see the big picture in most scenarios and not just the minute details in the middle, and this view on things is straight forward to them and requires minimal brain power. I conversely tend to see the minute detail in the middle, but not the other surrounding details, with large amounts of brain power required for concepts – hence the questions.

I further suspect that most people don’t actually see the big picture at all – they just understand it is there, and how it works. I, on the other hand work far better if I can see it all in my mind’s eye, including how it all fits together.

From an early age, my observation that I don’t understand the same things as others, and that my level of detail is different to theirs has lead to the development of the camouflage techniques I’ve mentioned above. Let the other person know that I’m listening, and give them an impression that I understand what they are saying. Ask questions so that I can translate their language into one that I can see and comprehend.

Ultimately, it’s vital for me to understand, because experience tells me that typically that is what is expected of me – an ordinary person would understand. When you have grown up not being able to differentiate between what you are expected to trivially understand, and what it would be acceptable to admit that you don’t know, the best camouflage has proven to be to say that you understand everything, and then do your best to demonstrate that you do.

And that is exactly what I do.

These techniques are also ringing bells with me about a well publicised AS trait that is usually mentioned alongside talk of  ‘Little Professors‘. Your average Little AS Professor can speak at length about a subject of interest without actually having a detailed understanding of the mechanics behind the interest. I think this sort of  confident faking-it technique is most likely another string in the bow of the camouflage tools I’ve outlined above. Having signalled to the other person that I’ve listened to and understood what they were saying, and having asked questions so that I can formulate my own picture, I’d then be happy to go and tell someone else about the subject in question, in a tone of voice that suggested that I understood entirely what I was talking about.

I become a Big Professor.

I often don’t understand the subject in detail of course, but if it’s something that I judge I should know about, then I’ll act as though I do.

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