The rise of the autistic detective – why neurodivergent minds are at the heart of modern mysteries
Soohyun Cho, Michigan State University There never seems to be a shortage of good crime shows on TV, and network television is teeming with detectives who think – and act – differently. This fall, new seasons of “Elsbeth,” “High Potential,” “Patience” and “Watson” have aired, and they all feature leads who share similar characteristics: They’re outsiders, they’re socially awkward, they can be emotionally distant, and their minds operate in unconventional ways. In fact, they all possess traits that align with what many people now associate with neurodivergence – what scholar Nick Walker defines as “a mind that functions in ways that diverge significantly from the dominant societal standards of ‘normal.’” As a scholar of popular culture, I’ve long been fascinated by this recurring character type – detectives who might, today, be diagnosed as having autism spectrum disorder. While researching my forthcoming book, “The Autistic Detective,” I’ve come to realize that most detectives in popular culture – yes, even Sherlock Holmes – exhibited neurodivergent characteristics, long before the term existed.
The thin line between genius and madness
In the late 19th century, when Sherlock Holmes was created, there was widespread scientific interest in the workings of the mind, particularly the thin line between genius and madness. British psychologist James Sullydescribed “men of genius” as exhibiting “intellectual or moral peculiarities which are distinctly symptomatic of mental disease,” naming Edgar Allan Poe as an example of the “tragic fatefulness of geniuses.” Italian criminologist Cesare Lombroso, meanwhile, proposed that madness, genius and criminality were all closely intertwined. Such a fascination with exceptional minds – and the idea that madness and genius are two sides of the same coin – fed into the heart of detective fiction. And although later scholars have criticized the linking of neurodivergence to pathology, violence or genius, the trope remains common in popular culture, where it’s often used to signal the exceptional mind of a detective figure. Now, however, many fans are able to connect these characteristics to specific diagnostic labels. According to CDC data from April 2025, autism diagnoses in U.S. children have risen sharply over the past two decades – from about 1 in 150 in 1998 to roughly 1 in 31 today. This reflects not only a broadened definition of the autism spectrum but also signals greater public awareness and acceptance of neurodivergence. That growing understanding has led to renewed interest in Holmes. From online fan forums to The New York Times, people have debated whether Holmes might be autistic, wondered whether another label would be more appropriate, or highlighted the futility of trying to diagnose a fictional character.
Super intelligence and social dysfunction
That said, it’s hard not to see some neurodivergent traits in Sherlock Holmes and other fictional detectives. Tunnel vision, pattern recognition and attention to detail are all traits that could be exhibited by autistic people. Holmes was fixated on minute details: One story highlighted how he authored a study on the ashes of 140 different varieties of pipe, cigar and cigarette tobacco. He had an unmatched talent for noticing overlooked details and piecing together disparate clues. And he was obsessed with forensic science. He could also come off as cold. As Holmes declared in “The Sign of the Four,” “Emotional qualities are antagonistic to clear reasoning.” In Edgar Allan Poe’s 1841 short story “The Murders in the Rue Morgue,” which is widely considered the first detective fiction story, the protagonist, C. Auguste Dupin, also hyperfocuses on small details, reasons through “pure logic” and is socially reclusive – all qualities displayed by Holmes. Even Dr. Watson, Holmes’ sidekick, noticed the resemblance. “You remind me of Edgar Allen Poe’s Dupin,” he tells Holmes in “A Study in Scarlet.” “I had no idea that such individuals did exist outside of stories.” When Sherlock Holmes creator Arthur Conan Doyle famously killed off the detective at Reichenbach Falls in his 1893 story “The Final Problem,” there was so much public outrage that the author was eventually forced to bring him back from the dead. These 19th-century Sherlock enthusiasts were predecessors to today’s media fandoms. Their level of devotion, unlike anything previously seen for a fictional character, was a testament to the power of Doyle’s formula: an extraordinary investigator with savantlike cognitive abilities who upholds logic over emotion, thrives in solitude and yet still depends on his companion – in Holmes’ case, Dr. Watson, who serves as an emotional counterbalance. In the 21st century, that formula has been revived in wildly popular TV shows such as “Bones,” “Criminal Minds” and “Sherlock.” In 2016, “Sherlock” co-creator Steven Moffat told the BBC, “Doyle began the idea that super-intelligence comes at the price of some kind of social dysfunction, something that we’ve grasped as a narrative possibility ever since.” In other words, the more eccentric – or socially dysfunctional – a detective is, the more ingenious the hero seems.
A new era for the detective
Detective fiction might have started as a way to explore the deviant, non-normative minds of detectives and the criminals they pursued. But it has since become a space for neurodivergent self-representation. Today, scholars, fans, reviewers and scientists openly discuss diagnostic labels for fictional characters. This surge in interest coincides with a rise in research on portrayals of autism in the media and a growing number of autistic voices examining how those portrayals shape public understanding. Disability scholars have long warned of disabled characters being used as mere plot devices and have criticized the lack of diversity in representations of detectives who appear to be autistic on screen. Yet many of the new shows push back against some of the stereotypes of autistic people as cold, lonely and incapable of affection. Instead, they have friends. They have romantic partners. They’re empathetic. The series “Elsbeth” and “High Potential” center on quirky, intelligent female investigative leads who appear to be on the autism spectrum. In HBO’s 2020 miniseries “The Outsider,” detective Holly Gibney appears as one of the first Black, autistic female detectives on television. While most of these characters aren’t explicitly identified as autistic in their shows, “Extraordinary Attorney Woo” features a female attorney whose diagnosis is openly discussed by the show’s characters.‘Extraordinary Attorney Woo’ is a Korean series centered on an autistic, early-career attorney. The British-Belgian series “Patience,” meanwhile, is the first detective show to feature an explicitly autistic character played by a neurodivergent actress, Ella Maisy Purvis. “It was really important to me that she wasn’t this kind of robotic, asexual drone,” Purvis told the Big Issue in 2025. “Patience is highly empathetic. She cares so much about her job and the people around her. It’s just expressed in a different way.” These varied portrayals coincide with the rise of online fan communities where neurodivergent fans share what these stories mean to them. If the archetypal detective once tried to “make sense” of neurodivergent minds, today’s neurodivergent fans and creators are now having a hand in shaping them. Perhaps most importantly, they no longer have to wonder whether they’re being represented on screen. Soohyun Cho, Assistant Professor at the Center for Integrative Studies in the Arts & Humanities, Michigan State University This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.
Dive into “The Knowledge,” where curiosity meets clarity. This playlist, in collaboration with STMDailyNews.com, is designed for viewers who value historical accuracy and insightful learning. Our short videos, ranging from 30 seconds to a minute and a half, make complex subjects easy to grasp in no time. Covering everything from historical events to contemporary processes and entertainment, “The Knowledge” bridges the past with the present. In a world where information is abundant yet often misused, our series aims to guide you through the noise, preserving vital knowledge and truths that shape our lives today. Perfect for curious minds eager to discover the ‘why’ and ‘how’ of everything around us. Subscribe and join in as we explore the facts that matter. https://stmdailynews.com/the-knowledge/
In the 1970s, Lynwood, CA, dreamed of a downtown mall anchored by Montgomery Ward. Decades later, the empty lots told a story of ambition, delay, and renewal.
In the early 1970s, Lynwood, California, dreamed big.
City leaders envisioned a new, modern downtown — a sprawling shopping and auto mall that would bring jobs, shoppers, and a sense of pride back to this small but growing city in the southeast corner of Los Angeles County. At the heart of the plan stood a gleaming new Montgomery Ward department store, which opened around 1973 and promised to anchor a larger commercial center that never fully came.
But for those of us who grew up in Lynwood during that time, the promise never quite materialized.
Instead, we remember acres of empty lots, chain-link fences, and faded “Coming Soon” signs that sat for decades — silent witnesses to a dream deferred.
The Vision That Stalled
In 1973, Lynwood’s Redevelopment Agency launched what it called Project Area A — an ambitious plan to clear and rebuild much of the city’s downtown core. Small businesses and homes were bought out, land was assembled, and the city floated bonds to support new construction.
For a brief moment, it looked as if the plan might work. Montgomery Ward opened its doors, serving as a retail beacon for the area. Yet the rest of the mall — the shops, restaurants, and auto dealerships — never came.
By the mid-1970s, much of downtown had been bulldozed, but little replaced it. And by the time Ward closed its Lynwood location in 1986, the vast lots surrounding it had become symbols of frustration and unfulfilled potential.
What Happened?
Some longtime residents whispered about corruption or backroom deals — the kind of speculation that grows when visible progress stalls.
But newspaper archives and redevelopment records tell a more complex story.
Lynwood’s plans collided with a series of hard realities:
The construction of the Century Freeway (I-105) disrupted neighborhoods and depressed land values. Environmental cleanup and ownership disputes slowed development. Economic shifts in retail — as malls in nearby Downey, South Gate, and Paramount attracted anchor stores — drained the local market. And later, political infighting among city officials made sustained redevelopment almost impossible.
Advertisement
To this day, there’s no public record of proven corruption directly tied to the 1970s mall plan. What did exist was a tangle of bureaucracy, economic change, and missed opportunity — a perfect storm that left Lynwood’s heart half-built and half-forgotten.
Growing Up Among the Vacant Lots
For those of us who were kids in Lynwood during that era, the story is more personal.
We remember the sight of the Montgomery Ward building — modern and hopeful at first, then shuttered and fading by the mid-1980s.
We remember riding bikes past the empty dirt fields that were supposed to become shopping plazas. And we remember the quiet frustration of adults who had believed the city’s promises.
Those empty blocks became our playgrounds — but they also became symbols of the gap between what Lynwood was and what it wanted to be.
A New Chapter: Plaza México and Beyond
By the late 1990s and early 2000s, the dream finally resurfaced in a new form.
Developers transformed the long-idle site into Plaza México, a vibrant commercial and cultural hub that celebrates Mexican and Latin American heritage.
It took nearly 30 years for Lynwood’s downtown to come alive again.
The result is beautiful — but it’s also bittersweet for those who remember how long the land sat empty, and how many local businesses and residents were displaced in pursuit of a dream that took a generation to fulfill.
Advertisement
Looking Back
The story of Lynwood’s lost mall isn’t just about urban planning.
It’s about hope, change, and resilience. It’s about how a community tried to reinvent itself — and how the children who grew up watching that effort still carry its memory.
Sometimes, when I drive through that stretch of Imperial Highway and Long Beach Boulevard, I still imagine what might have been: the bustling mall that never was, and the voices of a neighborhood caught between ambition and uncertainty.
📚 Further Reading
Montgomery Ward will close its Lynwood store. (Jan 3 1986) — Los Angeles Times.
Dive into “The Knowledge,” where curiosity meets clarity. This playlist, in collaboration with STMDailyNews.com, is designed for viewers who value historical accuracy and insightful learning. Our short videos, ranging from 30 seconds to a minute and a half, make complex subjects easy to grasp in no time. Covering everything from historical events to contemporary processes and entertainment, “The Knowledge” bridges the past with the present. In a world where information is abundant yet often misused, our series aims to guide you through the noise, preserving vital knowledge and truths that shape our lives today. Perfect for curious minds eager to discover the ‘why’ and ‘how’ of everything around us. Subscribe and join in as we explore the facts that matter. https://stmdailynews.com/the-knowledge/
The dystopian Pottersville in ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’ is starting to feel less like fiction
A fresh look at It’s a Wonderful Life through the film’s darkest detour—Pottersville—and why its greed, corruption, and desensitization to cruelty feels uncomfortably familiar in America today.
To many Americans, George Bailey’s dystopian nightmare is disquietingly familiar. Paramount
The dystopian Pottersville in ‘It’s a Wonderful Life’ is starting to feel less like fiction
Nora Gilbert, University of North Texas Along with millions of others, I’ll soon be taking 2 hours and 10 minutes out of my busy holiday schedule to sit down and watch a movie I’ve seen countless times before: Frank Capra’s “It’s a Wonderful Life,” which tells the story of a man’s existential crisis one Christmas Eve in the fictional town of Bedford Falls. There are lots of reasons why this eight-decade-old film still resonates, from its nostalgic pleasures to its cultural critiques. But when I watch it this year, the sequence where Bedford Falls transforms into the dark and dystopian “Pottersville” will resonate the most. In the film, protagonist George Bailey, who’s played by Jimmy Stewart, is on the brink of suicide. He seems to have achieved the hallmarks of the American dream: He’s taken over his father’s loan business, married the love of his life and fathered four excessively adorable children. But George feels stifled and beaten down. His Uncle Billy has misplaced US$8,000 of the company’s money, and the town’s resident tyrant, Mr. Potter, is using the mishap to try to ruin George, who’s his last remaining business competitor. An angel named Clarence is tasked with pulling George back from the brink. To stop him from attempting suicide, Clarence decides to show George what life would have been like if he’d never been born. In this alternate reality, Bedford Falls is called Pottersville, a place Mr. Potter runs as a ruthless banker and slumlord.Pottersville, the dark, dystopian version of Bedford Falls, is a place characterized by vice and moral decay.Paramount Having previously written about “It’s a Wonderful Life” in my book on literary and film censorship, I can’t help but see parallels between Pottersville and the U.S. today. Think about it: In Pottersville, one man hoards all the financial profits and political power. In Pottersville, greed, corruption and cynicism reign supreme. In Pottersville, hard-working immigrants like Giuseppe Martini who were able to build a life and run a business in Bedford Falls have vanished. In Pottersville, homeless addicts like Mr. Gower and nonconformist “pixies” like Clarence are scorned and ostracized, then booted out of the local watering hole. In Pottersville, cops arrest people like Violet Bick while they’re at work and haul them away, kicking and screaming.Violet Bick gets dragged away by the Pottersville police as George looks on.Paramount But what horrifies George the most about Pottersville is how desensitized the people living in it seem to be to its harshness and cruelty – how they treat him like he’s the crazy, deranged one for wanting and expecting things to be different and better. This is what the current political moment feels like to me. There are days when the latest headlines feel so jarringly unprecedented that I find myself thinking, “Can this be happening? Can this be real?” If you think these comparisons are a bit of a stretch, consider when “It’s a Wonderful Life” was made, and the frame of mind Capra was in when he made it.
Frank Capra, anti-fascist
In 1946, Capra was just returning to Hollywood filmmaking after serving for four years in the U.S. Army, where the Office of War Information had tasked him with producing a series of documentary films about World War II and the lead-up to it. Even though Capra hadn’t been on the front lines, he’d been immersed in the sounds and images of war for years on end, and he had become acutely familiar with Germany, Italy and Japan’s respective rises to fascism.Frank Capra served in the U.S. Army during World War II.Keystone/Hulton Archive via Getty Images When deciding on his first postwar film, Capra recalled in his autobiography that he specifically “knew one thing – it would not be about war.” Instead, he chose to adapt a short story by Philip Van Doren Stern, “The Greatest Gift,” that Stern had originally sent to friends and family as a Christmas card in 1943. Stern’s story is certainly not about war. But it’s not exactly about Christmas, either. As Stern writes in his opening lines:
“The little town straggling up the hill was bright with colored Christmas lights. But George Pratt did not see them. He was leaning over the railing of the iron bridge, staring down moodily at the black water.”
The protagonist contemplates suicide because he’s “sick of everything” in the small-town “mudhole” he’s stuck in – until, that is, a “strange little man” gives him the chance to see what life would be like if he’d never been born. It was Capra and his team of screenwriters who added the sinister Henry F. Potter to Stern’s short, simple tale. The Potter subplot encapsulates the film’s most trenchant, still-resonant themes: the unfairness of socioeconomic injustices; the pervasiveness of corporate and political corruption; the threat of monopolized power; the need for affordable housing. These themes had, of course, run through many of Capra’s prewar films as well: “Mr. Deeds Goes to Town,” “You Can’t Take It with You,” “Meet John Doe” and “Mr. Smith Goes to Washington,” the last of which also starred Jimmy Stewart. But they take on a different kind of weight in “It’s a Wonderful Life” – a weight that’s especially visible on the weathered face of Stewart, who himself had just returned from a harrowing four-year tour of duty as a bomber pilot in Europe. The idealistic vigor with which Stewart had fought crooked politicians and oligarchs as Mr. Smith is replaced by the bitterness, exhaustion, frustration and desperation with which he battles against Mr. Potter as George Bailey.George Bailey feels helpless in the face of corruption and cruelty.Paramount
Life after Pottersville
By the time George has begged and pleaded his way out of Pottersville, the lost $8,000 is no longer top of mind. He’s mainly just relieved to find Bedford Falls as he had left it, warts and all. And yet, the Bedford Falls that George returns to isn’t quite the same as the one he left behind. In this Bedford Falls, the community rallies together to figure out a way to recoup George’s missing money. Their pre-digital version of a GoFundMe page saves George from what he’d feared most: bankruptcy, scandal and prison. And even though his wife, Mary, tries to attribute this sudden wave of collectivist, activist energy to some sort of divine intervention – “George, it’s a miracle; it’s a miracle!” – Uncle Billy points out that it really came about through more earthly organizing means: “Mary did it, George; Mary did it! She told some people you were in trouble, and they scattered all over town collecting money!”The residents of Bedford Falls come together to save George from financial ruin.Paramount But the question of whether George actually wins his battle against Potter is a murky one. While the typical Capra protagonist triumphs by defeating vice and exposing subterfuge, George never even realizes that Potter is the one who got hold of his money and tried to ruin his life. Potter is never held accountable for his crimes. On the other hand, George is able to learn, from his time in Pottersville, what a crucial role he plays in his community. George’s victory over Potter, then, lies not in some grand final act of retribution, but in the incremental ways he has stood up to Potter throughout his life: not capitulating to Potter’s bullying or intimidation tactics; speaking truth to power; and running a community-centered business rather than one guided by greed and exploitation. In recent months, there have been similar acts of protest, large and small, in the form of rallies, boycotts, immigrant aid efforts, subscription cancellations, food bank donations and more. That doesn’t mean the U.S. has made it out of Pottersville, however. Each day, more head-spinning headlines appear, whether they’re about masked agents terrorizing immigrant communities, the dismantling of anti-corruption oversights, the consolidation of executive power or the naked display of political grift. Zuzu’s petals are still missing. Clarence still hasn’t gotten his wings. But this holiday season, I’m hoping it will feel helpfully cathartic to go with George Bailey, for the umpteenth time, through the dark abyss of his dystopian nightmare – and come out with him, stronger and wiser, on the other side. Nora Gilbert, Professor of Literary and Film Studies, University of North Texas This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.
Why I Never Gave My Small Dog Rawhide Chews: A Pet Parent’s Perspective
As a small dog owner, I learned the hard way why rawhide chews are risky — especially for aggressive chewers like my Jack Russell–Chihuahua mix, Luna. Here’s what I discovered and why we chose safer alternatives.
Why I Never Gave Luna Rawhide Chews — A Small Dog Owner’s Story
When we brought home our tiny but mighty pup, Luna — a Jack Russell–Chihuahua mix — we knew she loved to chew. In the past, I had given rawhide chews to larger dogs in our family, but thanks to my wife’s research and my own digging into the facts, we never gave rawhide to Luna. And here’s why. At first, rawhide chews seem harmless — they’re marketed as natural and long-lasting. But as I started reading more from trusted sources, it became clear rawhide treats can pose serious risks, especially for small dogs and aggressive chewers like Luna.
Luna smile for the camera – Image Credit: RW
Rawhide Isn’t Easy to Digest
Rawhide is made from animal hides that are chemically treated and dried. Dogs’ digestive systems simply aren’t equipped to break it down efficiently, which can lead to chunks getting stuck in the stomach or intestines. In some cases, these obstructions require emergency surgery. Veterinarians warn about choking and digestive blockages with rawhide chews. [oai_citation:0‡Veterinary Care at Your Fingertips](https://www.petscare.com/news/faq/do-vets-recommend-rawhide-for-dogs?utm_source=chatgpt.com)
Choking and Blockage Risks Are Very Real
As puppies chew rawhide, it softens and can break into large, protective chunks that are easy to swallow whole. These pieces can become lodged in a dog’s throat, leading to choking, or travel into the gut and create dangerous blockages. The American Kennel Club explains that strong chewers can break off large pieces that are especially risky for small breeds. [oai_citation:1‡American Kennel Club](https://www.akc.org/expert-advice/health/are-rawhide-chews-dangerous-for-dog/?utm_source=chatgpt.com)
Chemical Processing and Contamination Concerns
Rawhide is often treated with harsh chemicals like bleach or hydrogen peroxide during processing. These substances might not be fully removed and can irritate a dog’s stomach or cause other health problems. There’s also a documented risk of bacterial contamination with pathogens like Salmonella or E. coli. Research highlights these chemical and contamination concerns. [oai_citation:2‡Veterinary Care at Your Fingertips](https://www.petscare.com/news/post/why-rawhide-bad-dogs-dangers?utm_source=chatgpt.com)
What We Do Instead
Instead of rawhide, we give Luna safer, digestible chews like bully sticks and rubber chew toys. These alternatives satisfy her chewing instincts without the same level of risk. When choosing any chew, we always supervise her — especially because she’s such an aggressive chewer. If you’re a small-dog owner like me, it’s worth reconsidering rawhide chews. With safer options available and documented risks associated with rawhide, I’m glad we made the switch for Luna before any issues arose.
