Kafka Is So Meta

An Artist and Their Life are Intertwined: How does this help us understand neurodiversity?

At its core, autism is a pragmatic language disorder because both verbal and non verbal language are affected. It is here where this neurotype most stands out in a group. It is also the seed of creating misunderstandings, setting the stage for not just inaccurate but harmful stereotyping. Being misunderstood isn’t just a frustration of autistics, but a deeply rooted, often unconscious, fear. Kafka brilliantly describes this in his masterpiece The Metamorphosis.

I remember reading Kafka’s signature work in high school. I have since read many scholarly critiques of the work but something always felt like it was missing. His words and the story continued to haunt me throughout the years whenever something reminded me of the unfortunate Gregor Samsa. One day, doing a completely unrelated task, the processing like a computer program running through millions of lines of code finally finished and I was thunderstruck with the knowledge that I finally understood Kafka.

I don’t mean I finally understood his words as they described the human condition; I mean I finally understood what he was saying at the meta level and that many of the critiques, including scholarly ones, get a lot of it wrong. They are missing a key element necessary to truly understand his deeply profound words; perception. Kafka’s versus theirs.

In order to understand Kafka you first have to accept the high probability that he was on the autism spectrum at a time when no one knew such a thing even existed. I realize that it’s impossible to diagnose anyone posthumously but at least consider the possibility and be open minded to understanding that detail is the gateway to understanding Kafka at the meta level. After re-reading The Metamorphosis later that night, I was even more convinced. There is also a lot of historical evidence from those who personally knew him, describing his personality and habits in detail and they closely match someone who today would most likely be diagnosed as on the spectrum.

The widely accepted perception is The Metamorphosis is a story of existential angst as it pertains to the human condition through the use of imagery and metaphor to explain the impact of the pressures and demands placed on someone in a modern society. Indeed, it is that story but it’s also a story being told from the perspective of an autistic who does not know he is autistic and is describing what it is like to be autistic in a society that does not yet have the understanding of his struggles as he tries to navigate life.

There’s a scene in the book where Kafka describes the changed Gregor figuring out how to open the door. Most readers probably think of it as simply a passage to enrich the reader’s understanding of the character’s struggle and overlook how that scene is a metaphor that is literally the zeitgeist of being neurodiverse and what life is like for those of us who are frequently socially isolated; disconnected outliers in a society where being part of the social group is its bedrock. There are so many layers I could write 20 pages just explaining all the elements of that one scene.

Kafka spent a lot of time describing in minute detail the steps he had to take to learn to open the door. Kafka wasn’t writing just to fill blank space; if he wrote something it had a purpose to it and if it went on for pages explaining something down to the most minute detail then he was trying to communicate something important.

To most, it’s a metaphor explaining how something that used to be so simple has been changed forever. Now, let’s expand on that to include what someone on the spectrum might be trying to communicate: something as simple as turning a doorknob can sometimes be a struggle for the neurodiverse and we’re damn proud of ourselves for figuring out something on our own that neurotypicals just intuitively know how to do. Kafka writes of Gregor finally getting the door open, “With a deep breath of relief, he said to himself: “So I didn’t need the locksmith,” and laid his head on the handle to open the door wide.” If you tried to explain to someone the significance of one of us figuring out something as simple as opening a doorknob they wouldn’t understand its significance or impact because it’s just a doorknob, who doesn’t know how to use a doorknob? Me, that’s who. I often have trouble figuring out the mechanics of something as simple as a door knob in a new environment. If you really want a show, just ask me to figure out how to turn on the shower in a hotel. That struggle can and has literally lasted 30 minutes.

The essential element that people miss when it comes to neurodiversity is the amount of internal mental processing we must apply to even the most basic of tasks versus someone who only needs to apply the most minimal of mental processing to achieve the same result. The lack of understanding of these perceptive differences is a big barrier in understanding different neurotypes. The biggest strength of neurotypical processing is their ability to seamlessly transition between logical and intuitive processing, sometimes switching between the two in quick succession without losing any data in the process. Visual cues will assist in prompting a neurotypical processor to react to a new stimuli based off previous experience with a similar stimuli. For instance, if they saw someone with no hands going over to a door with a knob, they would understand that hands are a necessary thing to have to open a door. They would either offer to help or unobtrusively intervene by simply opening the door before the person even needs to ask.

The neurodivergent by contrast relies more on logical processing. Autism is a rules based processing style and just like running through lines of code that works exactly the same every time, so does the response from someone who experiences the world from a rules based orientation - the same reaction every time unless there is some extenuating circumstance to elicit a different response. B.F. Skinner defined such rules based learning as classical conditioning where once a response is learned it is very difficult to unlearn it. Operand conditioning by contrast, which is closer to how neurotypicals approach the world, adjusts responses based on previous positive or negative interactions from the same or similar stimuli in multiple scenarios. Classical conditioning is just a more scientific way of explaining logical processing versus intuitive processing which is scientifically known as operand conditioning. Neurodivergents struggle to extrapolate data learned in one scenario and apply its use in a different one. In the example above about the person with no hands, it may not occur to some neurodivergents who struggle with intuitive processing to help the person with the door unless directly asked. In their world, if they have hands that also means everyone has hands. Unless at some point they were exposed to someone with a disability that needed assistance, they may not immediately recognize that not having hands is a disability, especially if their only prior exposure to someone with a disability was an individual without legs. Like that code base that runs exactly the same every time, the scenario must be exactly the same every time too to elicit a certain response. Unless they were told directly ‘all physical handicaps need assistance’; it might not occur to them that the person without hands would need it too. Of course humans have the ability to discern and reason unlike a computer that needs someone to tell it what to do with millions of 0’s and 1’s instructing its every move and I’m using an exaggerated example to make a point. I’m sure even Spock himself could deduce without any prompting that someone without hands would need assistance, so it’s not that someone who is neurodiverse is completely devoid of common sense or unable to learn intuitive behavior, it’s that they simply must learn differently on how to better access their intuitive processing - that is the distinction.

Autism is what’s known as an invisible disability because our struggles do not usually have the visual prompts that helps others understand what we need. Often times we don’t even understand what we need, leaving us unable to verbalize it creating frustration for both parties. Metaphorically, if logical processing were analogous to analog, intuition would be analogous to digital and society is majority digital. In other words, the neurodiverse are frequently applying analog solutions to digital problems and struggle to extrapolate the correct response from the vast database in their brain and will more likely than not, default to the classically conditioned response unable to discern that it might not be the correct one for the situation.

The communication frustrations of speaking two different emotional languages is like trying to dance a waltz with someone with their shoelaces tied together. It’s anything but the graceful, tandem movement of two people and is instead an awkward attempt at just trying to dance but not actually achieving it. The neurotypical is leading because their feet move freely between steps while the neurodiverse partner is just dragged along for the ride because they are hobbled.

The unrelenting grind of needing to use a turbo boost just to process even the most nugatory decisions of everyday life is exhausting. Society has not yet equipped re-charging ports on every corner to help us replenish our battery stores mostly because no one understands that it even needs to exist in the first place, let alone be built. It is this allostatic load that wears us down over time like sand on marble that has been exposed to the elements. One grain isn’t going to make a difference, but many grains over time in various conditions hitting the same spot will eventually wear the marble down and alter its function and appearance. Anyone who has ever walked the steps of an ancient building in the city of Rome understands this analogy. This is what frequently leads to autistic burnout which is often mistakenly called meltdowns in allistic parlance. That’s not even in the right ballpark to properly explain or fully appreciate just how extreme or life draining the experience of burnout is to someone neurodivergent. I’m going to put it in allistic parlance - the gas tank is bone dry.

A meltdown is what happens when children lack the language skills to communicate a need and expresses this frustration through vocalizations and body movements. Autistic burnout is a complete and total shutdown of any kind of processing - a paralysis of all mental functioning. A meltdown is a temporary response to negative stimuli and the child will eventually self-regulate after the brain has more time to process the situation. Autistic burnout by contrast has no such timeline and without the proper supports can linger without fully recovering for years and years. This fact actually puts us at perilous risk of frequent relapses. It’s a horrible cycle of forced masking and gritting teeth just to get through the motions of daily living for the sake of survival. It leads to poor quality of life outcomes and with moods that vacillate between morose thoughts, rage and sometimes a sprinkle of momentary joy from spending time on a special interest. Swinging like a pendulum between emotionally dysregulated to emotionally regulated sometimes in a matter of seconds; back and forth, back and forth for hours, months, years on end until one day it just … stops. That is what autistic burnout actually is and it’s not even close to the experience of a young child still learning about the world expressing upset that they can’t have candy before dinner. For those aware of their neurodiversity they can take steps to manage these extreme highs and lows but imagine not knowing and living with that? Sounds a lot like a Kafka book, doesn’t it?

For many autistics their most powerful gift is their ability to write to explain the human condition from their perspective. It is grossly oversimplified and exaggerated among the fast food media that the majority consumes - quick sound bites that don’t require much deep thought - that autistics don’t understand empathy and can’t read body language. It’s simply untrue. Every human has the ability for empathy and the ability to read non verbal cues. It’s just some don’t have easy access to intuitive processes like emotions and have to be taught how with the help of coaches and therapists trained in neurodiversity. It might surprise some allistics that some neurodivergents are actually highly empathetic and have the ability for pattern recognition of non verbal cues faster and more accurately than many neurotypicals. I am one of them. People might think I’m awkward and two things can be true at the same time - I am awkward but I’m also picking up with laser accuracy what someone is actually saying non verbally while telling me something different to my face and are nervous because they can tell that I know they’re lying and can’t wait to get away from me because they are embarrassed. That is not the same as me not being able to take a hint which is how it is often described by someone else who was told the story and is spilling the details with me.

Many of the more celebrated neurodiverse writers don’t just write as a creative release to soothe their own pain and angst, but to also educate others to explain what their needs are since doing so in person or in groups often fails. I’ll never be a Kafka, but this is the reason why I write this personal substack.

The idea that a neurotype matters in evaluating the meaning of a writer’s work would most likely be dismissed as having little to no impact by scholars. I would strongly disagree; a writer’s life is their work and the two are deeply interwoven and you can’t understand one without understanding the other. Throughout the years, while rereading many of the classics through this lens, I have come to understand their words at a level so deep that sometimes it’s difficult to explain; it’s almost like having a religious experience. Their words and keen insights a rosetta stone of sorts for understanding neurotypes.

I’ve met plenty pseudo intellectuals at parties who love telling me about the books they’ve read and will throw a couple of quotes here and there to prove they know what they’re talking about, ergo they are correct. I guess it’s all in the interpretation and while I am not someone who thinks I’m the smartest person in the room (as Confucius said, “If you think you’re the smartest person in the room then you’re in the wrong room”), I will say these conversations tend to make me tune out, more focused on the sensory input from the glass of white wine I’m holding than listening to them butcher a masterpiece. I could correct them but in the past my intensity and depth and breadth on certain subjects tends to overwhelm many allistics so I’ve just learned to smile and interject a polite “Mmmhmm, that’s fascinating” from time to time to prove I’m ‘listening’ until I can escape instead of blurting out “I don’t value your opinion”, which is what I’m really thinking.

“It’s not enough to just know something; the point is to understand it”, a neurodiverse physicist by the name of Albert Einstein once said. And I couldn’t agree more. That is exactly why Kafka spent two pages explaining in minute detail describing how the poor, doomed Gregor figured out on his own how to open a doorknob despite his limitations and was both relieved and proud at the same time. Kafka wanted his audience to understand what his world felt like as a way to understand himself and as a way for those who didn’t even realize he was struggling to understand. He was demonstrating two concepts at one time: the tremendous adaptability and resiliency the neurodiverse need to have in order live a world not built for them and the price it extracts over time. And that no one notices either scenario - we are rarely celebrated because our achievements are considered too pedestrian and our struggles invalidated because we are too sensitive. We are the invisible among the seen.

It’s a terrible thing to never be authentically seen or heard; forever misunderstood, never being able to explain it to others so they too can understand. It would be a great concept to write about, something allegorical perhaps to help explain it … oh wait, Kafka already did that in 1925 with the release of The Trial.

There are so many lines in The Metamorphosis where I pick up on nuances that may not be immediately recognized by some readers to prove my hypothesis that I would literally have to type the entire book here with note biens all over the place to explain. Literally every paragraph is a metaphor within a metaphor it is that nuanced. Mind you, I’m more than willing to do that as there’s nothing an autistic with a special interest loves to do more than info dump to anyone who will listen, but the point of communication is to have people read it or it’s not effective and no one wants to read 30 pages unless it’s in an academic setting. I might publish an addendum to this piece with the quotes I have researched with my interpretations.

The Metamorphosis isn’t just telling a story of what one supposes would happen in the aftermath of cataclysmic change, but is also showing the long term affects of living a life of stress while everyone else seems to move seamlessly through it and the character cannot understand why they cannot even though they devote a tremendous amount of time trying to do the same. In the beginning of the book when Gregor’s family knocks on the door calling for him to come out as he is late for work, Kafka spends a lot of time describing what Gregor thinks he’s saying and telling his readers what his family hears. That right there is the core of neurodiversity miscues and miscommunications - no matter what is said or in how many different ways you say it, neither can understand the other. One character asks, “Did you understand a word of it?” after Gregor answers him. Kafka is absolutely on point how he demonstrates the confusion and anxiety of trying to express oneself and not being understood despite best efforts. Kafka’s characters are master over-explainers which is a very common autistic trait usually stemming from the anxiety of constantly being misunderstand. Gregor’s ever present anxiety is tightly woven in every single sentence of this masterpiece. The audience feels the tightening muscles of anxiety and see it escalate with each turn of the page until eventually the release that comes from just giving up. The book is so tightly wound with anxiety you can almost see it heave from the angst and fear.

I remember the first time I read the book my classmates couldn’t wait to finish it and escape from Gregor’s bleak world. Exactly. Again, the metaphor within the metaphor - the meta metaphor. Every deliberate word he wrote, makes the reader anxious to get out of this hellscape before they become a permanent part of it. It’s almost as if you can hear Kafka saying, “You’re only a temporary visitor to this hell, how do you think I feel knowing there is no escape?”

The Metamorphosis also talks about the family dynamic between Gregor and his family. Unbeknownst to Kafka at the time, he was describing a very common pattern found in the family of origin of many late in life diagnosed adults. We now understand how these dynamics often create lasting trauma and negatively impact future interpersonal relationships which as we know from Kafka’s letters, were rife with struggle. His descriptions of each family member is a familiar exercise all newly diagnosed autistics go through - replaying all their past family interactions until they finally see the pattern that at least one parent is most likely neurodiverse as well. Kafka didn’t have a name for it at the time. All he knew is that his father was difficult and prone to violent outbursts that seemingly came out of nowhere.

Kafka’s words are still hauntingly relevant describing the struggle faced by many because we still have such a long way to go. Too many fall through the cracks and go undiagnosed with their struggles a mystery to them while allistics can’t understand why they can’t ‘just’ do ‘x’. So we mask, we hide how we are really doing and to allistic society, out of sight must mean resolution. No, it never just disappears into a vacuum - that energy has to go somewhere. Energy cannot be created or destroyed, only transformed from one form to another so just because you can’t see the struggle, unless you know there has been a concrete resolution, it’s still very much present for the neurodiverse person. At its most mild, and by no means is this minimizing the feeling, the constant angst from carrying only burdens with little joy to balance things out, over time becomes just … existence; a joyless shuffling through each day for years on end until our sunset. At its most devastating, it’s not just a life of feeling lost and unfulfilled but a life often marked with under employment, drug use, criminal behavior, failed relationships, homelessness and poor health.

A neurotype is simply a descriptor, there is no morality assigned to it - that is a societal construct and something that needs to evolve and change. The stigma that continues to surround autism pathologizes it, always looking at it through a myopic pathologized lens instead of a broader, more accepting one. For many, a small accommodation will move the needle in their world of mental regulation by a large margin. Right now, autism is just one giant bucket where we’re looked at as a homogeneous population and nothing could be further from the truth. As the saying in the community goes, when you’ve met one person on the autism spectrum, you’ve met one person on the autism spectrum.

Even though The Metamorphosis was written in 1915 it could just as easily be written today to describe both the existential angst of modern life as well as being an outlier because sadly, we’re not as advanced as we should be in terms of how to accommodate neurodiversity.

We are long past due for the perception versus the reality to change on how we can best support all neurotypes. Let’s not have Kafka’s gift to the world be in vain. Let’s finally grant him a long overdue parole.