43 pages • 1 hour read
Temple GrandinA modern alternative to SparkNotes and CliffsNotes, SuperSummary offers high-quality Study Guides with detailed chapter summaries and analysis of major themes, characters, and more.
The squeeze machine is an object that represents many components of autism. It represents Grandin’s anxiety, the benefits of perspective taking, her industrious nature, and how others perceive her traits. Grandin’s anxiety is a struggle others with autism often experience. A search for relief motivates Grandin’s innovation of the squeeze machine, hoping for the calming effect of pressure. Witnessing the reduced stress of cattle in a squeeze chute inspires Grandin to imitate the machine; she thus turns observation into sensory perspective taking.
The success of the squeeze machine in reducing Grandin’s anxiety points to the physiological foundation of both anxiety and autism. However, without this knowledge, adults in Grandin’s life apply their misconceptions, insisting in both the strangeness and ineffectiveness of the squeeze machine. This misconception grows to the point of adults dictating her discontinued use of the squeeze machine, despite the comfort it provides to Grandin:
Professionals in those days had no understanding of autistic sensory problems; they still believed that autism was caused by psychological factors. Since they wanted to get rid of my machine, they alerted my mother, who became very concerned. Like the professionals, she had no idea that my attraction to pressure was biological (59-60).
It takes the perspective of a high school science teacher, Mr. Carlock, to provide another interpretation of the squeeze machine as useful rather than odd. Mr. Carlock’s perspective benefits Grandin and her anxiety, just as her perspective on animals benefits their welfare. Enhancing a person’s perspective also results from reading the research and stories documented throughout the book.
Genius embodies the paradox of autism. Grandin discusses the link between genius and autism, as well as genius and mood disorders. The links signify the dual nature of genius, possessing both desirable and undesirable characteristics. This duality takes shape within autism as well, with the presence of deficits and exceptionalism, such as Grandin’s sensory discomforts and visual thinking, respectively. Genius and autism, sensory discomfort and visual thinking, and abnormality and normality can all live within the same person.
Another way to conceptualize genius, autism, abnormality, and normality is to reject the dichotomy approach for a continuous approach. From this perspective, no absolute line separates genius from autism and abnormal from normal. “There is no black-and-white dividing line between normal and abnormal” (217). Moving away from an either-or perspective to an inclusive perspective aligns with Grandin’s discussion of autism and genius, pointing to the shared traits. Adjusting the conceptualizations of genius, abnormality, and normality may help to reduce both misconceptions and stigma attached to autism. Challenging a new perceptive can also route people to empathy.
Cattle symbolize an autistic person’s experience with thought and emotions, as well as how people misinterpret them. The thoughts and emotions of cattle are not an identical match to those with autism, but similarities are apparent. Grandin’s respect for cattle—and her own use of this comparison—helps smooth the comparison between the two for those without autism.
The symbolism behind cattle extends beyond the concrete similarities of visual thought and prominent emotion of fear. Those with autism may struggle to communicate their internal experiences, just as people ignore cattle without an expert like Grandin who can interpret their behavior. Grandin sees more than an animal, she sees behaviors in cattle that reflect her own thoughts, emotions, and behaviors as a person:
A great deal of my success in working with animals comes from the simple fact that I see all kinds of connections between their behavior and certain autistic behavior. Another example is the fact that both cattle and people with autism can become very set in their habits (172).
The desire for routine, and distress in response to change, connects animals and those with autism. Both often operate in a context of hypervigilance, with their attention to detail sparking fear even in benign circumstances. Another potential commonality is visual thinking, a thinking pattern that language-based thinkers often misunderstand, and that involves learning through methods other than language. Cattle and people with autism represent a misunderstood group, viewed as lacking thought and emotions, a belief Grandin firmly rejects.
More than visual instructions, Grandin’s livestock equipment designs indicate her exceptionality for visual thinking. She realizes that without autism, including the deficits, visual thinking may be out of her grasp. “I value my ability to think visually, and I would never want to lose it” (3). The livestock equipment Grandin designs, and mentally problems solves, is a tangible example of her visualization skills.
The livestock equipment designs also illustrate her empathy for animals. “I can imagine the sensations the animals would feel. If I had a calf’s body and hooves, I would be very scared to step on a slippery metal ramp” (8). Grandin’s sensory sensitivities merge into empathy, allowing her to create equipment that is equally successful in function and care.