Elon Musk is autistic. He declared it publicly when he hosted Saturday Night Live in 2021. Specifically, he said he had Asperger’s. Asperger’s was subsumed within autism spectrum disorder in 2013, but he still uses the term, or did in 2021. Musk’s disclosure, and a subsequent discussion in a TED talk/interview, was widely reported in the media at the time.
Musk is the classic autistic archetype. His interests are physics, tech, business, cars, rockets. His voice is quite monotonous, his face is relatively inexpressive, he walks with a notably atypical gait. He was so severely bullied at school that he was hospitalised. He had a terrible relationship with his father, who was violent and tyrannical. At 18 he migrated from South Africa to Canada with a long term plan of getting into the USA. He eventually started his own business, dedicating himself to the work, coding overnight. His relationships with women have been atypical; he has ten children, by three different mothers. He has extremely strong convictions, and is trying to change the world on his terms. He likes puns. He says things that upset people. He butts heads with authorities. He abruptly falls out with people. His business practices are unorthodox. He takes big risks. He has meltdowns, in which he rages and sours or severs relationships. He has mental health problems and takes medication to treat depression. And so on.
This information is public knowledge. I first learned of all this from the BBC documentary series about his life, which included interviews with his parents, ex partners, and former employees. It is on his wikipedia page, and many reputable media outlets if you google Musk and Asperger’s or autism.
Why then is this contextual clinical information absent from the mainstream media coverage of Musk that I sometimes get tempted to read? One important example of this is the recently published all-access biography of Musk, which quickly entered the best-seller list. Autism or Asperger’s isn’t in the index. The book contains speculations as to the nature of Musk’s character and his mental health problems — reviewers of the book and interviewers of its author have emphasised this topic. Autism is avoided or dismissed as an explanation. Instead, the Guardian gave the title ‘Arrested Development’ to Gary Shteyngart’s review of the book — a biography of a man with a neurodevelopmental condition. Instead of autism, these writers prefer to categorise him as a ‘manchild’ or an ‘asshole’.
Commentary around this matter reveals a lack of understanding about what autism entails. I am sympathetic to this as I too didn’t quite understand what autism is like until I accepted that I was autistic. Perhaps Musk himself doesn’t fully understand his condition, as he has suggested that he might be bipolar as an explanation of his mood swings. From what I have gleaned of these, they sound like the autistic cycle of hyping up, melting down and burning out. The confusion of autism and bipolar isn’t unheard of.
Dismissing clinical explanations of Musk’s life, Gary Shteyngart’s review of the biography paints a naive picture of autistic people, and people with mental health problems, as sweet, innocent do-gooders:
“But the idea that any of these conditions are what makes Musk an “asshole” (another frequently used descriptor of him in the book), while also making him successful in his many pursuits, is an insult to all those affected by them who manage to change the world without leaving a trail of wounded people, failing social networks and general despair behind them.”
Alas, he isn’t aware that the autism diagnostic assessment explores exactly these effects, and that the people he is imagining might be masking for the public. The mask slips on twitter/X, and in private. Shteyngart must not have seen the autistic activists and writers piling on other autistic people who dissent from their agenda. (Naming no names, so as not to perpetuate the flames).
Autistic people’s convictions can have a power akin to religious belief, and their particular interpretation of them may be very individual, making lasting alliances difficult, and sudden purges common. But that uncompromising zeal is also the fuel that powers their extraordinary achievements.
The richest man in the world is autistic. Let that sink in.