Why do journalists keep saying “learning disability” when the subject of the story has an intellectual disability?
IT’S NOT THE SAME THING. Stop it.
It keeps happening: I’m reading an article about an autistic adult, and the narrative says they also have a “learning disability.”
I’m not ready to believe that, by sheer coincidence, all of these story subjects also have one or more of the following actual learning disabilities with their autism:
Dyslexia. Difficulty spelling, recognizing words or letters, and making connections between letters and sounds.
Dysgraphia. People may have distorted handwriting, leave out words and struggle to put thoughts on paper.
Dyscalculia. Difficulty with math, making change and telling time are examples.
Auditory Processing Disorder. Trouble with processing and interpreting sounds, even though their hearing is normal.
Visual Processing Disorder. Those affected may have trouble recognizing and interpreting what they see, even though their vision is normal.
Nonverbal Learning Disability. Those with NLD may have strong verbal skills but struggle with understanding nonverbal cues like body language or facial expressions.
ADHD. Difficulty with paying attention, staying focused, organizing thoughts, completing tasks, time management, working memory, among other features.
Of course, it’s entirely possible for the autistic subject of a reporter’s story to also have any one of these seven types of learning disabilities.
These conditions are actually called learning disabilities by neuropsychologists.
But “learning disability” gets misunderstood and misused by journalists, writers and bloggers, being used instead of the correct term for their story subject, which would be intellectual disability.
And how do I know this? First off, intellectual disability (IQ below normal) commonly occurs alongside high-support-needs autism – even though ID and autism are completely separate conditions and one does not cause the other.
I’ve read so many stories of autistic adults who, according to the article, also have a “learning disability.” There’s no mention of an “intellectual disability.”
Where are all the autistic adults, then, with ID? They’re out there alright. So why aren’t journalists telling their stories? Are reporters leaving them out?
Of course not. It’s not believable that all of the autistic adults in these stories — in which the author says they have a “learning disability” — never have an ID, but instead, truly have one or more of the actual learning disabilities listed above.
And if they DO have one of those LDs, such as dyslexia or dysgraphia, why doesn’t the article author name the specific diagnosis? If for no other reason, this specific disclosure could help educate readers as well as give hope to those who have the same LD diagnosis when the story is inspirational!
Look at the screenshot below. Based on this young man’s story, I have every reason to believe that his “learning disability” is actually an intellectual disability (IQ below normal).
A lot of times, you can tell there’s probably an intellectual disability (previously commonly referred to as mental handicap and mental challenge) based on the subject’s quoted statements in the article.
In fact, often it’s the quoted statements that are a dead giveaway that the subject very likely has the cognitive skills of a child or adolescent. And that’s okay. But I’m all about accurate reporting rather than deceptive reporting, too.
- A person can have a normal or even high IQ and still have one or more of the LDs listed above.
That’s because LDs have nothing to do with IQ or intelligence!
And a person can be autistic (such as myself) and not have any LDs!
A person can also be autistic and not have an ID.
Is this getting confusing? That’s okay, because I enjoy explaining this kind of stuff. I’ll explain it again but in a different way:
- Autism Spectrum Disorder, intellectual impairment and learning disabilities are three separate conditions.
- People can have two or all three, but that doesn’t mean one causes the other.
- Just like someone can have arthritis, high cholesterol and type 2 diabetes – but that doesn’t mean arthritis causes diabetes or that high cholesterol is the same as arthritis. Yet many people have all three!
Poor Job by the Journalist
So if that 30-year-old with autism also has a learning disability, why doesn’t the writer get the name of that LD and say that in the article instead of the generic, overly-broad “learning disability”?
That’s almost like saying, “Steve is sick and that’s why he’s struggled to maintain employment.”
What does “sick” mean? Why not just say specifically whatever it is that Steve has? Example: “Steve’s Crohn’s disease has kept him from maintaining employment.”
Fact is, a journalist, 99% of the time, will name the specific physical malady, such as prostate cancer, osteoarthritis, hearing impairment or lower body paralysis.
But when it comes to a low IQ or intellectual deficit, journalists are afraid to say this.
Instead, they say “learning disability.” Writers believe that this is a more socially acceptable term for intellectual disability.
When I was a young adult, the terms “mental retardation” and even “mentally retarded” were still fairly commonly used within the social services arena and even in medical journals.
When I was a child I’d often see buses whizzing by on the busy street that I lived on – buses that said “Cleveland Association for Retarded Citizens.”
Over the years, though, these terms have been replaced by a slew of descriptors including mental challenge, developmental disability, developmental delay, special needs and, of course, learning disability.
Though “developmental disability” and “special needs” are not incorrect (though broad) descriptors for someone with a cognitive impairment that affects IQ, the term “learning disability” actually IS incorrect.
But if Steve really does have an actual learning disability, along with autism, then doggone, why doesn’t the journalist or newsperson identify the specific LD? After all, the autism is noted. Why stop there if there’s another diagnosis that’s relevant to the story, such as why he’s finally found a job at age 30?
Why does it matter?
Look at it this way. If YOU were autistic and also had ADHD and auditory processing disorder, would you be okay if a reporter’s story about you described you as “has autism and learning disabilities”?
Hmmmm. I’ll bet the farm you’d be up in arms, because you’d know that “learning disabilities” will be taken by many readers to mean low IQ or intellectual impairment!
If I had visual processing disorder and dyslexia along with my autism, and some reporter said I had learning disabilities, I’d be livid.
I’d be incensed because of the reporter’s lack of insight, i.e., not realizing that most readers associate “learning disabilities” with low IQ.
I won’t apologize for not wanting to be regarded as having a low IQ. It’s bad enough that there are people out there, in this day and age, who still believe autism is a form of low IQ or intellectual deficit.
You might be thinking, “Well, maybe all of those story subjects really did have dyslexia, dysgraphia, nonverbal learning disorder or ADHD, and the writer was accurate.”
No, I’m not buying this. It’s not believable that “learning disability” was used correctly in every single one of those stories. And I’ve read a lot of them.
What’s much more easier to believe is that journalists are too chicken to say “intellectual disability” and/or too lazy to request the name of the actual diagnosis to put in the story.
It’s also not believable that in every single case, or in even 50% of the stories, the subject and/or their parents wanted the author to write “learning disability” instead of “intellectual disability.”
Another Problem with All of This
By consistently pairing autism with the generic learning disability in their stories, writers contribute to the ongoing and incorrect association of autism with low IQ.
This myth persists even though there’s also the myth that high functioning autism always comes with superior intelligence.
ASD is a communication disorder, not a disorder of intellect.
As a writer myself, if I had to ever do a story on an autistic individual, I’d never say they had “learning disabilities.”
Instead, I’d seek the exact diagnosis. If they, or their parents, didn’t want me to say “intellectual disability” in the story, I’d respect that.
However, I’d never say “learning disability” instead, if they didn’t actually have one, because this would be WRONG.
If the parents or subject told me, “just put learning disability; that’s okay,” I’d inform them, “No, I can’t do that unless Steve has an actual diagnosis of dyscalculia or dyslexia, etc., in which case, I would want to put dyscalculia or dyslexia in the story to avoid confusing readers and leave them wondering.”
I also find it hard to believe that the average adult story subject or their parents is picky about intellectual challenge/disability vs. learning disability.
One Last Point
Those with actual learning disabilities but also with a normal to high IQ certainly aren’t too pleased about the myth that having challenges such as ADHD, dyslexia or auditory processing disorder is synonymous with intellectual handicap.
Improper labeling by reporters, journalists and bloggers helps to fuel these misconceptions.
Conclusion
I’ve learned from Steve that he’s autistic, has ADHD, intellectual disability, dyslexia and dysgraphia.
When I report about his struggles and achievements, I’ll write, “Steve is autistic and also has ADHD, intellectual disability, dyslexia and dysgraphia.”
I’ll then briefly explain all the conditions.
Lorra Garrick is a former personal trainer certified by the American Council on Exercise. At Bally Total Fitness, where she was also a group fitness instructor, she trained clients of all ages for fat loss and maintaining it, muscle and strength building, fitness, and improved cardiovascular and overall health. She has a clinical diagnosis of ASD.
.
