The reason it doesn’t seem like I was arguing against your comment is that indeed, I wasn’t trying to refute your comment. Reconsider your defensiveness. And bear in mind that not all critiques aim to establish a kind of propositional negation of what they address.

Cures for otherwise blinding conditions do exist (e.g., cataract removal, some gene therapies for retinal diseases) and they’re good. I have a condition that will eventually render me blind and I would seek to be cured if a cure existed for it.

But pursuing/promoting cures for disabilities, including blindness, is not without problems. See, in the US for example, the politics of the National Federation of the Blind vs. the Foundation for Fighting Blindness. Cures also raise class issues and threaten to further marginalize people who won’t or can’t be cured, for whatever reason. In particular, imagining a world in which ‘everyone’ is cured is dangerous and even inherently harmful ideology.

Also, while I have some reservations about the rhetoric and what I think it likely really means, there are blind people out there who will tell you they don’t want to be cured because it’s part of who they are and they’re getting along just fine. Such people do exist. A similar sentiment exists for some within the deaf community as well.

Gene therapies for other genetic conditions often do, but then those aren’t neurodevelopmental.

I’m kinda fascinated by the question of how something like this would affect me. Like the way a psychedelic experience can teach us lessons we still retain (and want to hold onto), like the way formative experiences leave deep traces in us even when when we grow and change, what features of autism would always ‘stay with me’ on some level? If things changed perceptually for me, what old habits of mind would I retain? What would I miss most? What would I not miss?

In a lot of ways I think temporary windows into different neurotypes would be much more interesting than purported ‘cures’. People don’t usually want to undo their own personalities, including mental dimensions like neurotypes. But who wouldn’t want to play with that a bit, if they knew it were safe?

This kind of thing is really interesting for what it might teach us about autism and the human brain more generally, but when it comes to the practical applications I just don’t see a future where it doesn’t present a ton of problems. Even when you make it ‘voluntary’, eugenics is dangerous and closely allied with exterminationist sentiment, thinking, and practice.

And it seriously risks, at a minimum, deeply undermining struggles to accommodate rather than erase disabilities. Admittedly this is a step beyond the technical capability, but if a society develops an expectation that some major human variation (be that autism, deafness, blindness, or whatever) be cured rather than accommodated wherever it is a ‘problem’, where does that leave people (or parents) who refuse the cure for themselves (or for their children)? I can easily imagine arguments like ‘if you don’t want problems, just administer the cure! you’re being selfish’, ‘this creates an unnecessary burden’, etc.

Also, to be clear, there’s no accepted notion of ‘autism for mice’ (or any other non-human animal), even if describing animals as autistic can sometimes be arguably useful. So ‘works in mice’ is a phrase that does a lot of work here.

It might do something in humans, but the idea that autism is reducible to genes— and a single gene, at that— strikes me as laughable on its face.