Self-discovery · How you connect
The logic behind it: the full guide
A reaction can look odd, rude or over the top from the outside and still be the sensible result of how someone is built, what they learned, and what kind of day they’ve had. This guide explains a way of looking at reactions, the lens, that lays out that logic so it can be shared, understood and answered fairly. You can use the Find the logic tool and the full list of situations on the simple page.
What the lens is, and what it isn’t
The lens is a habit of asking one question about a puzzling reaction: if this were sensible, what would the reasoning be? Then it writes that reasoning down in plain, abstract steps that someone else can follow and check, with an everyday analogy to make it stick.
It started from a simple observation by the person who built this site, who is autistic and has ADHD, OCD and anxiety: many reactions that get called rude or strange come from a very logical place, just not the place the onlooker expected. Showing the logic, step by step, often does more than any amount of “that’s just how I am”. It turns “you’re being difficult” into “oh, that makes sense”, and it gives both people something to work with.
The lens is not:
- An excuse. Logic explains a reaction; it doesn’t make its effects disappear. If a reaction hurts someone, the logical next step includes repair. More on this below.
- A diagnosis or a label. No reaction belongs to one kind of person, and no group always does anything. The library says “for many autistic people” or “for some people”, because people differ.
- One-sided. It explains neurotypical habits too, like small talk, white lies and hints, in plain logic for anyone who finds them baffling. Every situation includes the other person’s side.
Why it works: what the research says
A few well-known ideas sit underneath the lens. Each is described honestly here, with how strong the evidence is. The full notes are on the research page.
Misunderstanding runs both ways
The “double empathy problem” (Milton, 2012) is the idea that when autistic and non-autistic people misread each other, the problem lies between them, not only in the autistic person. It is a theory paper, but later experiments support parts of it: in one study, stories passed along chains of all-autistic or all-non-autistic people kept their detail equally well, while mixed chains lost detail faster and reported less rapport (Crompton and colleagues, 2020). Other studies found non-autistic people formed less favourable first impressions of autistic people from a few seconds of video, but not from a transcript of what they said (Sasson and colleagues, 2017). Style, not substance, did the damage. The lens aims at exactly that gap: it puts the substance into words.
Prediction, uncertainty and change
One influential theory proposes that autistic perception may lean less on prior expectations and more on the raw input, which could help explain why noise, surprises and an unpredictable world feel like so much (Pellicano and Burr, 2012). It is a theory still being tested. Separately, a meta-analysis found that finding uncertainty hard to bear is strongly linked with anxiety in autistic people, about as strongly as it is in non-autistic people (Jenkinson and colleagues, 2020). That is why a plan changed at the last minute can cost so much, and why so many of the library’s logic chains begin with a map, a plan or a budget.
Attention, energy and inertia
Monotropism, an autistic-led theory, describes attention pulled strongly into a few interests at a time (Murray, Lesser and Lawson, 2005). It helps explain deep focus, long talks about a favourite subject, and why stopping mid-task is hard. Autistic adults have also described “inertia”, real difficulty starting and stopping (Buckle and colleagues, 2021). In ADHD, an influential theory links attention, time sense and self-control (Barkley, 1997). The “spoons” image of energy as a limited daily supply comes from a personal essay, not a study, but it has helped many people explain themselves (Miserandino, 2003).
Feelings start in the body
Interoception is the sense of what is going on inside your body (Craig, 2002). Some people find those signals hard to read and name, which researchers call alexithymia. Across 15 studies, about half of autistic participants had high alexithymia, compared with about 5% of comparison participants (Kinnaird and colleagues, 2019). So “I don’t know how I feel” can be an honest answer, and a calm face can sit on top of a lot of feeling.
Hunger, tiredness and arguments
People report more conflict with a partner after poor sleep (Gordon and Chen, 2014), and hunger can colour how harshly we judge things, mainly when we aren’t noticing our own state (MacCormack and Lindquist, 2019). Those are early and moderate findings, but they fit what most people know: the snap is often the fuel gauge talking.
The logic of everyday social habits
Social habits that can seem pointless often do a real job. Hints and other indirect requests let people ask without risking an open refusal, so both people keep face (Pinker, Nowak and Lee, 2008, a theory paper). Brief, friendly chats with acquaintances are linked with feeling more connected on that day (Sandstrom and Dunn, 2014), and people tend to underestimate how much a new conversation partner liked them (Boothby and colleagues, 2018). In experiments, small lies told to spare someone’s feelings raised trust in the teller’s kindness but lowered trust in their honesty (Levine and Schweitzer, 2015), which is exactly the trade-off honest people feel.
Masking and the crash at home
Autistic adults have described “camouflaging”, working hard to appear like everyone else, often followed by exhaustion (Hull and colleagues, 2017), and long stretches of it are part of how autistic burnout has been described (Raymaker and colleagues, 2020). Autistic young people describe meltdowns and shutdowns as different from tantrums or sulking (Phung and colleagues, 2021).
The six parts, and how to write each one well
- What it looks like from outside. Use camera words: what a camera would see or hear. “She left the party at nine without saying goodbye” is a camera line. “She was rude” is a verdict. Verdicts close the question before the logic can answer it.
- The logic chain. Three or four short steps. Start with a plain, general fact about how things work (“Energy is a budget”, “A plan is a map”, “Driving habits are learned locally”). Each step should follow from the one before. End with why the reaction is a sensible response. If a step needs “because they’re like that”, it isn’t logic yet: keep asking why.
- An analogy. A good analogy shares the mechanism, not just the mood. A phone at 3% works for low energy because it also shuts down the extras to protect the essential call. Offer two: different people click with different pictures. “Show me another analogy” on the cards is there for that reason.
- Why the reaction fits. Say what makes it reasonable, fairly and without exaggerating. “For many people…”, not “everyone”. If research supports it, say how strong the evidence is.
- The other side. What did the other person feel, need or lose? This part is what makes the lens fair, rather than a defence speech. Care is not control: noticing their side isn’t agreeing to everything they want.
- One sentence, and one small step. A sentence you could actually say out loud, and a step small enough to do this week that helps both people.
It works both ways
The library has three kinds of situation. Some explain a reaction many neurodivergent people have, for people who don’t share it: leaving on time, headphones at dinner, a long pause before an answer. Some explain a common social habit in plain logic for people who find it baffling: small talk, “I’m fine”, hints, white lies, “Let’s get coffee sometime”, a feedback sandwich. And many are things anyone does: snapping when hungry, going quiet in a row, cancelling after a long week.
The neurotypical items matter as much as the others. If you have ever been told you “should have known” what someone meant, an explanation of the logic behind hints or “maybe” can be a relief: there was a system, and it can be learned or simply asked about. And if you use those habits without thinking, seeing their logic written down shows you exactly where someone else might miss the signal.
Different rulebooks
A lot of friction comes from people following different rulebooks, each sure theirs is normal. Driving, tipping, what “seven o’clock” means, how loud a family dinner is, how plainly feedback is given at work, whether a full stop in a text is cross: all of these are learned in a particular place, family or generation.
A tip the founder of this site often shares is about driving. When someone tailgates you or drives in a way that feels aggressive, remember that driving habits are learned locally. Someone from out of town may simply be driving the way everyone does where they learned. It isn’t aimed at you. Think of it like an accent: it’s how they learned to speak the road. They may not even know they feel close to you. Give them space, let them pass, and stay safe. Never retaliate. If a driver is truly dangerous, keep your distance and let them go. Don’t engage.
The same move works almost everywhere: before deciding a habit is an insult, ask whether it might be a different rulebook. Then say which rule you’re using (“Seven sharp, the table is booked”), or ask about theirs.
When logic is not an excuse
Understanding why something happened is not the same as saying it was fine. A snap after a long day still landed on someone. Lateness still cost someone their evening. Teasing that keeps hurting isn’t working as affection, whatever was meant. The lens handles this inside the logic itself: once you can see why a reaction happened, the sensible next step usually includes a repair and a plan.
- Name it: “That came out sharp. It was the hunger, and you didn’t deserve it.”
- Repair it: a short, real sorry, without a long defence.
- Change the setup: the small step. Alarms for leaving, a return time for a pause, a snack before the big talk.
A reason is not a permission.
Using it at home, at work and at school
- On your own: write the six parts for a reaction of yours that keeps being misread. Keep the card, or share it with one person you trust.
- With a partner or family: on a calm day, each of you picks one situation from the list that rings true, and reads it to the other. Talk about part 5, the other side, first.
- At work: a card on a reaction like needing instructions in writing or preferring email can sit beside a “how to talk to me” card. It keeps the conversation about how work gets done, not about anyone’s character.
- With children and teenagers: the analogies help most. “Your battery is on 3%” is easier to hear than “You’re being grumpy.” Ask them to pick the analogy that fits best.
- In a classroom or group: pick one neurotypical habit and one neurodivergent reaction, and have people fill in the six parts for each. The point is to see that both have a logic.
Common questions
Isn’t this just making excuses?
No. An excuse stops the conversation (“That’s just how I am”). The lens starts one: here is the reasoning, here is what it cost you, and here is one step that helps us both.
What if I can’t find the logic?
Try starting with the body (tired, hungry, overloaded?), then the plan (did something change?), then the rulebook (did we learn different rules?). If none fits, ask the person: “What was going on for you just then?” They may know their own logic better than any list.
What if the other person doesn’t accept the explanation?
They don’t have to agree to understand. Part 5 and part 6 still give you something to do together: their side, and one small step.
Is this only for autistic or ADHD people?
No. It was built by someone who is, and it explains a lot of neurodivergent logic, but it explains neurotypical habits and everyday human reactions just as carefully.
The research behind this page
Each link opens the full note on the research page, with how strong the evidence is.
- Milton (2012), the double empathy problem: theory.
- Crompton and colleagues (2020), information passed between autistic and non-autistic people: moderate.
- Sasson and colleagues (2017), quick first impressions of autistic people: moderate.
- Pellicano and Burr (2012), a predictive account of autistic perception: theory.
- Jenkinson and colleagues (2020), uncertainty and anxiety in autism: moderate.
- Murray, Lesser and Lawson (2005), monotropism: theory.
- Buckle and colleagues (2021), autistic inertia: early.
- Barkley (1997), ADHD and self-control: moderate.
- Demetriou and colleagues (2018), executive function in autism: moderate.
- Miserandino (2003), the spoon theory: a community metaphor.
- Craig (2002), interoception: strong.
- Kinnaird and colleagues (2019), alexithymia in autism: moderate.
- Gordon and Chen (2014), sleep and conflict: moderate.
- MacCormack and Lindquist (2019), hunger and judgement: early.
- Gottman and Levenson (1992), couples’ conflict over time: moderate.
- Downey and Feldman (1996), rejection sensitivity: strong.
- Shaw and colleagues (2014), emotions in ADHD: moderate.
- Pinker, Nowak and Lee (2008), the logic of indirect speech: theory.
- Sandstrom and Dunn (2014), chats with acquaintances and wellbeing: moderate.
- Boothby and colleagues (2018), the liking gap: moderate.
- Levine and Schweitzer (2015), prosocial lies and trust: moderate.
- Hull and colleagues (2017), camouflaging: moderate.
- Raymaker and colleagues (2020), autistic burnout: early.
- Phung and colleagues (2021), burnout, inertia, meltdown and shutdown: early.
- Grove and colleagues (2018), special interests and wellbeing: moderate.
- Dunn (1997), sensory processing: a clinical model.
- Fiese and colleagues (2002), family routines and rituals: moderate.
Try this: find one situation in the list where you recognise the other side, not your own. Read its logic chain twice. Then use its sentence the next time it happens.
See also: Wired Differently, in depth; Know your own wiring, in depth; Where your lens came from, for the rules we bring from home.
What this page is not. It is general education, not a diagnosis or therapy. If a reaction keeps causing hurt, or you’re worried about your own or someone else’s, a GP or a counsellor can help.