I love this mic.

I feel like Beyoncé.

It's so cool.

I was invited here to talk about autism.

It's a topic I know quite well
for two reasons.

First, I studied it during my PhD
in Social Psychology,

and second, I myself am
on the autism spectrum,

since I have Asperger's syndrome.

So, I kind of have a double hat.

But when I was preparing this speech,

I thought it would be
even more interesting

to talk about non-autistic people.

Yeah, that's you.

You see, I've been observing
you my whole life,

and truth be told,
I find you quite fascinating.

So, yeah,

you definitely deserve
your own PowerPoint.

Ta-da!

"Neurotypical people."

That's how we call people
who are not on the autism spectrum.

So, you too have your own little label.

What about symptoms?

Well, neurotypical people love small talk.

This is like your national sport!

You talk,

but you say nothing.

What a strange custom!

At first, I had no idea why you did that,

but I get it now.

Small talk serves a real purpose,

because it enables you
to connect with people

in spaces you share,

like with your neighbor
in the building you live in,

or with your colleague in your workspace.

Over the years, I learned
how to make small talk.

But sometimes, it's tricky.

Like, the other day,
I ran into my neighbor in the elevator.

And I was feeling confident, you know,
because I was wearing my lucky outfit.

And this is, of course, my lucky outfit,
in case you're wondering.

So I was feeling
like the world belonged to me,

and so I decided to engage in small talk.

And I saw he was carrying bags
full of groceries.

So I had this stroke of genius

and asked him this
really profound question:

"Oh, you did some shopping?"

Yeah, well,

as I said, I have a PhD, so -

And the neighbor answers,

"Yeah, I went to the market,
but I won't go there anymore.

Too many Arabs."

"Okay."

And I swear, it's a true story.

So, we went from small talk
to racial slurs real quick.

You also have a very special way
of communicating.

You use sarcasm, double meaning,

and you often tiptoe around the truth.

You have an almost pathological inability
to communicate in a straightforward way.

What you say can have multiple meanings,

and you always have to read
between the lines.

I don't know how you do it!

It's exhausting!

And you are so twisted

that sometimes you even ask questions
you don't want to have the answers to.

Like, for example,

if one of my girlfriends says,

"Oh look, I bought this
new foundation the other day

and I am wearing it right now;
how do you like it?",

I know by experience
that it may be a rhetorical question.

She probably is just trying
to start a conversation

or wants to be reassured.

So if I give her a straight answer,
like any autistic person would,

and say,

"Well, your face is orange,

and it kind of makes you look
like Donald Trump,"

that's no good.

All those social codes
and social conventions

can be particularly hard to understand
for an autistic person.

We say what we mean,
and we mean what we say,

to the point of being brutally honest.

And I really think that if you're ready
to put your ego aside

so as not to take everything personally,

it's a much more
efficient way to communicate

because you can save
a lot of time and energy.

You should try it.

But we also have similarities,
like special interests.

Autistic people tend to develop
an intense interest

in one or more subjects.

It can be the subway lines,

or exotic birds,

or historical figures, like Angela Davis.

We can accumulate
a considerable amount of knowledge

to the point of becoming experts
in our special interests.

It's considered a symptom
because it can be all-consuming.

But the truth is special interests

are an important resource
for people on the spectrum,

and we need them as much
as we need air to breathe.

But you too have
your own special interest:

socializing.

You spend so much time socializing,

with your friends,
during your coffee break,

or even with the bus driver.

It seems normal to you
because most people function that way,

but if you lived in a world
dominated by autistic people,

you would be the weirdos.

And last but not least,
your natural habitat.

Can I read it for you?

Neurotypical people are best observed
at nightfall in a dynamic environment,

with their peer group.

Of course, as you may have noticed,
this slide is a bit cliché,

because not all neurotypical
people drink champagne.

And I hate to be the bearer of bad news,

but there is no cure, for the time being.

It's so sad.

But seriously, though,

what do you think about all this?

Don't you feel a bit stigmatized?

Were you not thinking just now,

"That's a bit demeaning and simplistic"?

Yeah,

I know the feeling.

Can you imagine living in a world
where you are the minority,

where your way of being
is deemed pathological,

where people will tell you stuff like,

"But you don't look neurotypical"?

Or, "I know all about neurotypical people

because I saw an entire
season of 'Friends.'"

A world where people
will try to standardize you,

a world where you would constantly feel
like you are not enough.

Now finally, you can
understand the kind of crap

I've been dealing with my whole life.

Welcome to my world.

It gets on my nerves when people talk
about the causes, the "symptoms"

and the "treatments" of autism.

I really think that we are
going the wrong way.

We should spend more time

trying to give people on the spectrum
the place they deserve in our society,

trying to empower them
and make them independent.

Autistic people don't need a cure,

but they do need appropriate
educational approaches

to grow and flourish.

They also need their rights
to be respected.

In France, only 20 to 30%
of autistic children go to school,

and a very small number
of autistic adults have a job.

I can't tell you how many exactly,
because we don't have the numbers.

There is not a single study
on the subject.

We don't know either

how many of us are currently locked up
in psychiatric hospitals.

But, you know,

one is too many.

We are doomed to a lifetime
of loneliness, poverty and exclusion.

And it's even more difficult
for women on the spectrum.

When you are at the intersection
of autism and gender,

you experience unique difficulties

because you are not only
the victim of autismophobia;

you are also the victim of sexism,

and those two forms
of oppression interact together.

Let me give you an example.

We are just now starting to realize

that the diagnostic criteria
for autism are gender-biased,

because they have been established taking
into account the behavior of autistic men.

That and the fact that autism is expressed
in a much more subtle way in women

are the reasons why so many women
on the spectrum go undiagnosed

or are misdiagnosed.

Kimberlé Crenshaw was the first to come up
with the concept of intersectionality

to reveal the problems
faced by black women,

and she did an amazing TED talk about it.

So, you should watch it.

But like, not now, of course.

This is my big moment.

I remember meeting a researcher
a few months ago.

She was very excited
about the recent discoveries

on the impact of oxytocin
as a treatment for autistic people.

It seems this treatment
allows people on the spectrum

to socialize better or more.

I told her that it raised
a number of questions

because if I had been given this treatment
and had been pushed to socialize,

I wouldn't have had time to accomplish

all the things I've accomplished
in the past six years.

I have a blog,

a YouTube channel,

I did my PhD and I published two books.

So, I don't spend time
socializing with my friends,

but who cares?

I get things done.

It doesn't make sense to me

that people would want me
to be less autistic.

It is because I'm autistic
that I am extremely focused,

resilient,

hypersensitive,

and thus very creative, honest,

and that I have many areas of expertise.

And yes, I know that
my experience is not the same

as the experience of autistic people
who are much more dependent,

but still,

I think this type of research
raises ethical issues.

I'd like to live in a world
where I can just be myself,

where my voice matters,

where I can get
the kind of support I need,

a world where I don't need to be
this poster child of autism

in order to be loved and accepted,

a world where I don't have to fight
stereotypes and discrimination

every single day.

This is the world we have to build.

And in the meantime,

I'd like to say
to my fellow autistic friends

and to all the people
who are different out there:

you are not a mistake,

you are not a disease
that needs to be cured,

and you are enough.

Thank you.

(Applause)