First, I should say to kind of ignore the first part of this article. I originally wrote it with a Doctor Who forum in mind, and the first few sentences will reflect that, but after I did, I started wondering what views others here might have on the topic. Apologies to those who aren't familiar with the show to know the specific references, but I think the general concept should still come out clearly enough. (And if anyone wonders, yes, this is the autism forum that I reference in it.) Basically, this is an article in which I take a look at my interest in Doctor Who and interpret it through my Asperger's. I wrote it in the hopes that it might use a piece of popular culture to help foster understanding. Anyway, here goes. I'll just et you read it for yourself, should you so choose.
I’ve stated on this forum in the past that I’m on the spectrum, as I have Asperger’s syndrome. One of the most common symptoms of the condition is that those with it tend to have a few (or sometimes just one or two) interests that they become completely obsessive over. Those interests can be broad, but they’re often very narrow, and sometimes, they, quite frankly, don’t seem to make a lot of sense. Take me for example. I tend to have very little interest in science fiction as a whole, and yet, I soak in everything I possibly can about Doctor Who. There are actors that have appeared on it who are better known for other roles, but even when I know and even enjoy them in those roles, the pinnacle for me is always the appearance(s) on Doctor Who. Clive Swift is a good example of that. I’m very familiar with him from his role as Richard Bucket on “Keeping Up Appearances,” but I’d be very quick to point out to anyone watching that that he also appeared in “Revelation of the Daleks” and “Voyage of the Damned.” Just the same, I’d point out that Geoffrey Hughes appeared in “The Ultimate Foe” and Judy Cornwell in “Paradise Towers.” I have a hard time keeping my emotions properly regulated, often not expressing them well in real life. Yet, for some reason, they all seem to flow properly, if maybe a little too freely, while watching Doctor Who. The connection I feel to the show causes me to feel a connection to the characters, even if they’re not real. No matter how many times I watch “Journey’s End,” I still cry when the Doctor wipes Donna’s memory of him. The same can be said for Adric’s death in Earthshock, even though I don’t even like Adric. I probably seem like I’m rambling now – I tend to do that over things that interest me – but I’m simply trying to make the point of how much I love Doctor Who.
What’s more, from all indications, I’m not alone in that. I’ve read posts from others on this forum that talk about how they or a loved who have autism, Asperger’s, or some other spectrum disorder and love Doctor Who. I’ve had conversations about the show on an autism forum. I’ve seen comments in other places on the internet where people who identify as being on the spectrum not only enjoy the show, but have a very similar obsession/connection to what I have. I’ve seen a couple of articles people have written about why they believe that is, and since it’s been very much on my mind in the last few days, I’ve decided to take that on myself. My reasons are very likely to differ from others with a similar condition since we definitely don’t fit into a cookie cutter mold. There are a range of symptoms, some of us have certain ones, while others don’t. Some of us have certain ones more strongly than others do. Yet, I still have a feeling that there will be plenty of people who can relate to what I’m going to say.
The first reason I believe Doctor Who is so appealing to me is that I can see myself in the Doctor. I can give several reasons for that. Asperger’s is a high-functioning spectrum disorder. What that often means is that while someone with Asperger’s might fare very well academically, socially, they struggle greatly. Put simply, that’s me. Please understand that there’s no attempt at arrogance intended here (I’m going to address that shortly), but I want to do my best to help people understand how things look to someone with my mentality. In a lot of ways, it’s not uncommon for me to be the “smartest person in the room,” so to speak. Academically related matters usually came naturally to me, and I rarely struggled in school unless there was some sort of mental stress that became a drag on me. The problem is, that it did happen at times because my natural inability to deal with people would sometimes create that stress. To put it another way, I have a high level of what people often call “book smarts,” while I’d say I tend to have a much lower level of “social intelligence.” Way too often, I find myself to be incapable of reading the emotions of others or find myself feeling extraordinarily uncomfortable in dealing with people. I can actually address a crowd without difficulty. But put me in a more individual interaction, and unless it’s a rare person I’m truly comfortable with, I’m a mental wreck, even when it doesn’t show, and sometimes I feel that way with the people closest to me. It’s not rare for me to feel that I’d gladly trade some of my “book smarts” to be better able to interact with people.
I see that in the Doctor as well. He (I’m going to use “he” in this article since the overwhelming majority of incarnations have been male, and using a single pronoun set is simpler) is almost always the smartest person in the room. People marvel at what he’s able to do. Yet, get things down to the most basic level, and he struggles to directly relate to those around him. Think about Martha Jones’s comments to him when she left the TARDIS at the end of “Last of the Time Lords.” She talked about how he never even looked her way, even though she had strong feelings for her. He liked her, just not in that way. Think about “Human Nature” when she kept reviewing his instructions for what she should do in various emergencies. Falling in love had never occurred to him. Think about how he struggled to express his own feelings to Rose in “Doomsday.” That sort of thing is very familiar to me. Romantic feelings are perhaps the easiest place to see the struggle or to connect, but it can be seen in any number of emotions. What many don’t realize is that while they may marvel at the intellectual abilities of many who have certain spectrum disorders, we marvel no less at their ability to function socially. We might live in the same world physically, but mentally is another story. We have different strengths and weaknesses that mean that, at least in some respects, we’re light years apart.
I believe that’s been built into the show from the very beginning. “An Unearthly Child” demonstrates it brilliantly. We, as humans, can’t really relate to the Doctor or Susan. How was that handled? We can relate to Ian and Barbara. They’re human, just like we are. They serve as a catalyst of understanding. As they get to know the Doctor better, so do we. When there’s something we don’t understand, they don’t either, and so, we get an explanation when the Doctor tells them what’s going on, which is something that wouldn’t happen if the Doctor didn’t have some of our own kind tagging along. Even so, not just any human can truly fill that role. I think Liz Shaw was an excellent character, but I can also understand why there was concern that she might not fill the role of a companion as well as Jo Grant, since Liz didn’t need to have as many things explained to her.
I said I’d address the matter of a perception of arrogance, and I’m going to do that now, as I shift slightly to the point that those with spectrum disorders don’t think like those around us do. That’s one thing that’s always certain with the Doctor, even when he’s with his own people on Gallifrey. I’ve been accused of arrogance before when there was absolutely no intention of arrogant behavior. Truth be told, I don’t think I’m arrogant at all since I have a serious struggle with self-esteem issues. So, why is it that I come across that way to others sometimes? The best explanation I can give is that we don’t think in the same way. We’re not even capable of thinking in the same way, because our brains are simply wired differently. And that’s another way that I can relate to the Doctor. The Sixth Doctor just might be the ultimate example of the Doctor’s “arrogance,” but I for one don’t think he ever intended to be that way. He was likely the most alien incarnation of the Doctor, with the possible exception of the early First Doctor whose experiences were far less, and thus hadn’t been introduced to as much as he later would be. I can relate to the Sixth Doctor’s explanation to Peri as to why she shouldn’t expect him to think the same way she did. After all, he rightly pointed out. He was an alien; he wasn’t human.
I know what it’s like to feel “alien.” Things that make perfect sense to me make absolutely no sense to those around me, and vice versa. There are times that, try as hard as I might, I simply can’t understand how anyone could ever come to the conclusion that everyone else around me comes to, and they certainly can’t understand how I come to mine. That doesn’t mean that either side is always right or always wrong. It all goes back to the various strengths and weaknesses that go along with being neuro-typical or neuro-diverse. Looking at that idea in Doctor Who, the companions have learned plenty from the Doctor, but the Doctor has learned just as much from them. Again, Donna Noble seems like the perfect example of that. I don’t know if there’s ever been a companion more “unspectacular” than Donna, yet I also don’t know if there’s been one who’s had a bigger impact on the Doctor. Sometimes humans seem stupid and arrogant to the Doctor, and sometimes he seems stupid and arrogant to them. What’s interesting is that sometimes, it’s the “stupid and arrogant” side who’s right. Assuming that you aren’t on the spectrum, there’s a very high likelihood that you and I, if we had a conversation would come to points when we simply couldn’t understand why the other thought something so preposterous. That just might be the point that we can both learn something, and I believe that Doctor Who brilliantly displays that.
But it’s not just the Doctor I can see myself in. I can see myself in the companions as well. To quote the Doctor from “A Christmas Carol,” “900 years of space and time and I’ve never met someone who wasn’t important.” We as humans tend to make judgments that some people are more important than others. I suspect that most of us also know what it’s like to feel unimportant. I mentioned that I have self-esteem issues. That’s not uncommon for those on the spectrum. I often feel like I’m the lowest of the low for no good reason. I know I keep using Donna as an example, but she’s a great one for the purposes of this article. How many people would have ever looked at Donna and thought she had the potential to be something truly special? The Doctor did though, and that’s how he sees everyone. What that means is that when I’m struggling the most with feelings of worthlessness, I can watch Doctor Who and imagine that if that blue box appeared in front of my house, I could go running for it and find a certain Time Lord inside who saw potential. With the Doctor, it was never about IQ, wealth, gender, or skin color. To him, it was always a matter of everyone having value. The worthless proved worthy. The incapable proved capable. The irredeemable proved redeemable. I believe that’s something that everyone, in their heart of hearts, is looking for.
I have one more thing about the show that I want to focus on, and it’s a tough one for those on the spectrum: change. One of the central tenets of Doctor Who is change, and while that can be hard for anyone, it’s particularly hard for those with spectrum disorders. There are some people who are so mentally averse to change, for reasons over which they have no control, that they have to eat the same thing for breakfast every day or wear the same color or outfit on a certain day of the week. That’s not a problem that I have to that extreme, but I do have to admit that little changes that would just roll off for most others can really irritate me. So, Doctor Who’s attraction to me in that sense is odd, but I think the change is still part of the attraction. I fear that I’ll have the most difficult time explaining this, but I’m going to try.
Anytime I marathon Doctor Who, I get very strong mixed feelings when a regeneration is about to take place. No matter whether I like the incoming or outgoing Doctor more, I always feel both an anxiety about the change that’s coming that makes me wish it weren’t and an excitement about what’s to come. The first part is easy to understand. I doubt you have any trouble at all grasping why I’d feel anxious based on everything I’ve said so far. But why would I feel excited? Well, if anything, the regenerations that the Doctor experiences every few years (or far more often than that in a marathon setting) serve to remind that change isn’t necessarily and end and that everything can still work out. For someone who struggles very much with that last point, Doctor Who can be very reassuring in that way. My Classic Who viewing as I write this has reached “The Tenth Planet.” That’s of very obvious significance to this part of the discussion. Thinking about that, I don’t want to see Hartnell go. But thanks to 20/20 hindsight that we have nearly six decades later, I know what’s coming, and I’m excited about what I’m going to see with Patrick Troughton after this story. The same will be true after “The War Games,” “Planet of the Spiders,” “Logopolis,” etc. Those reassurances are very valuable. If anything is certain about life, it’s uncertainty, and changes happen all the time. Sometimes, we all need a reminder that things can still work out, and those of us who struggle the most with change need them even more.
Now, that doesn’t mean I like all the changes that come about. I mean, who does? I think that’s true for both real life and Doctor Who. It might also mean I have a much more belligerent attitude toward the things that I do disapprove of. That may only serve to make this point more confusing, but the point is, while someone like me might not always show it, the changes that take place on Doctor Who can be very therapeutic, even if they feel stressful at times.
I could probably go on and on with this and come up with a lot more reasons why I’m attracted to Doctor Who, but I’ve probably been long winded enough as it is. I hope that this can be revealing for someone else, whether it helps them to, maybe not truly relate to someone with a different mental wiring, be more understanding, or perhaps be a help to those who have the same struggles that I do. I get very wrapped up in Doctor Who, often much more than I should, perhaps. In some respects, even after this exploration, it makes little sense to me why I love it so much, but in the end, I’m glad I do. Sure, it’s just a TV show, but in some ways, it’s a lot more than that, and in those ways it’s been a help to me.