Abstract
Discourse on screen use in autism is largely dominated by risk-oriented, deficit-based, and alarmist narratives, often structured around the time-based construct of “screen time.” In this perspective essay, I argue for a more nuanced, context-sensitive, and neurodiversity-affirmative research agenda. Using an autoethnography-informed approach, I draw on my lived experiences as an autistic person alongside emerging empirical evidence to contend that screen use can also support autistic individuals in ways that closely align with their needs and preferences. I illustrate how screen use has enabled me to fulfill my core needs—particularly predictability, safety, autonomy, and meaningful belonging—which in turn facilitated my stress and sensory regulation, social development, executive functioning, and overall mental health across the lifespan. To move beyond limited framings of screen use in autism, I outline six key principles for a neurodiversity-affirmative research agenda: (1) adopt terminology that captures how and why digital media is used (e.g., “screen use” or “digital media engagement”); (2) examine the reasons, functions, and contexts of this use; (3) assess both potential benefits and risks in relation to the contextual factors that shape them; (4) evaluate outcomes that center autistic people’s autonomy, agency, and well-being; (5) acknowledge and respect neurodivergent developmental pathways and preferences; and (6) employ participatory and mixed-method approaches. Together, these principles can inform research, recommendations, and policies that enable more context-sensitive decisions and support autistic individuals to use screens in ways that enhance their development, mental health, and well-being on their own terms.
Community Brief
Why is this topic important?
Screen use is often discussed as something harmful for autistic people. Research usually focuses on “screen time,” meaning how long screens are used. Some studies describe autistic people’s screen time as excessive, inappropriate, or problematic and have even suggested that screen time may lead to the development of autistic traits. These views can lead to strict rules and interventions aimed at reducing screen time. However, screen use can also provide important benefits for autistic people. It can support development, independence, and well-being in ways that closely align with their needs and preferences. It is, therefore, important to study when, how, and why screen use can be beneficial, rather than focusing only on risks.
What is the purpose of this article?
I challenge one-sided, negative views of screen use in autism. Instead, I argue for a more balanced, neurodiversity-affirmative way of studying it, which respects differences in how autistic people use screens and focuses on well-being rather than seeing these differences as problems.
What personal or professional perspectives does the author bring to this topic?
I share my lived experiences as an autistic person and describe how screen use has helped me fulfill my core needs—particularly predictability, safety, independence, and meaningful belonging. I also explain how screen use supported my stress and sensory regulation, social development, planning and organizational skills, and overall mental health across the lifespan. I combine these reflections with scientific studies to show that screen use can also be beneficial for other autistic people.
What is already known about this topic?
Most research on screen use in autism focuses on risks and often describes it as excessive or problematic. At the same time, emerging research and autistic people’s own experiences suggest that screen use can also support stress regulation, social connection, learning, and mental health.
What does the author recommend?
I recommend that research on screen use in autism follow a neurodiversity-affirmative approach. I describe six key principles to help ensure that such research better reflects autistic people’s experiences and needs:
Move beyond the term “screen time” and use language that better reflects how and why screens are used, such as “screen use.” Study what people actually do on screens, why they use them, and in what situations. Consider both possible benefits and risks of screen use and how these depend on the person and their environment. Focus on outcomes that matter to autistic people, such as independence and well-being. Acknowledge and respect that differences in screen use are not necessarily problems to be fixed. Involve autistic people in research and use different kinds of research methods to better understand their experiences.
How will these recommendations help autistic adults now or in the future?
My recommendations can help researchers, professionals, and policymakers better understand when and how screen use can support autistic people. This can lead to more appropriate support that fits autistic people’s needs and preferences and may improve their development and well-being.
One of my earliest childhood memories is the intense joy of rewinding and replaying a cartoon song sung by an animated rabbit. I often watched it during school breaks or whenever I was overstimulated. Because the screen was always predictable, I felt safe in ways the “real” world never did. My parents were criticized for “letting me do nothing but sit behind a screen all day,” but I am grateful that they recognized how much regulation these moments offered me. Now, over 25 years later, I am struck by how much of the academic and public discourse still frames such experiences through a deficit-focused lens.
Much discourse on screen use in autism is organized around the concept of screen time, typically defined as time spent engaging with digital devices that provide visual content, 1 and is often dominated by alarmist narratives. 2 In the general population, individuals are reported to spend an average of up to 11 hours per day engaging with screens 3 —an amount that, while subject to concerns, 4 is often regarded as necessary or normative for participation in contemporary society. 5 In contrast, autistic people’s sometimes-divergent patterns of screen use, such as solitary use, 6 are frequently labeled “problematic,” 7 “compulsive or excessive,” 8 or “unhealthy and improper.” 9 Other researchers argue that screen time displaces “developmentally appropriate learning opportunities (e.g., imaginative play),” 10 despite evidence that some autistic individuals, including myself, do not naturally prefer such forms of play. 11 From a neurodiversity perspective, the concept of screen time may, therefore, be seen as problematic or even ableist, 12 as it reduces a complex, functional behavior to a single quantitative metric and implicitly frames deviations from normative patterns of media use as undesirable—even when screen use is essential for communication and daily functioning. For example, for some autistic individuals who rely on augmentative and alternative communication, screen use is not optional or recreational but directly tied to autonomy and personhood.13,14
More recently, prolonged childhood screen time has been claimed as a “risk factor” for autistic characteristics, 15 framing these traits as undesirable deficits. Despite limited, mostly cross-sectional evidence and clear indications of publication bias, 16 these claims have contributed to narratives such as so-called virtual autism, described as a “darker side” 17 or “leading hazard” 18 of early childhood screen use. The use of such terminology has been criticized for potentially reinforcing misconceptions about the origins of autism and for risking a return to parent-blaming narratives. 19
These framings also shape practice, guidelines, and interventions. For instance, some programs limit children’s screen time to as little as 5 minutes per day, 20 often evaluating effectiveness through reductions in autistic “symptoms” or parental stress, rather than outcomes that meaningfully reflect autistic people’s well-being. 21 Moreover, several countries have introduced policies that restrict or ban mobile phones and other personal digital devices in classrooms, 22 despite reports from autistic individuals that these technologies can offer substantive academic benefits, such as greater independence, reduced anxiety, and expanded social opportunities.23,24
I acknowledge that screen use can, in some cases, be associated with adverse outcomes for autistic individuals, such as sedentary behavior and related health problems 25 and, despite mixed findings, sleep disturbances. 26 Some autistic people may even be particularly vulnerable to these outcomes, for example, due to sensory processing differences or co-occurring conditions such as ADHD and hypermobility. 27 Nevertheless, I contend that screen use can also support development, autonomy, and well-being, as it can closely align with autistic people’s needs and preferences. Given that research shapes public understanding, clinical practice, and policy, I argue that research on screen use in autism should adopt a more nuanced and neurodiversity-affirmative agenda.
Methodological Approach
To illustrate this need, I integrate autobiographical reflections with existing empirical literature to highlight potential benefits of screen use in autism. In doing so, I draw on an autoethnography-informed approach, in which lived experience is used to connect personal experiences to broader social and cultural contexts. 28 Such approaches are widely used to critically examine and reframe social phenomena and to generate new directions for research. 29 In doing so, I also follow a broader tradition of autoethnography-informed work on digital media use in autism.30–32
More specifically, I describe four advantages that screen use has offered me from early childhood to adulthood as an autistic person: (1) stress and sensory regulation, (2) social development, (3) executive functioning, and (4) mental health. For each theme, I then connect these accounts with existing research in autistic populations through a structured literature search in EBSCOhost using relevant search strings (e.g., “autis*” AND “screen use” OR “screen time”), conducted with the support of a librarian and supplemented by forward and backward citation tracking. Importantly, this approach is not intended to provide an exhaustive account of potential effects of screen use in autism but to inform the development of my proposed research agenda, alongside literature on neurodiversity-affirmative and screen use research more broadly.12,33–35
Positionality
Before presenting these themes, I consider it important to reflect on my positionality. As an autistic person with relatively lower support needs and as a White, ethnically Dutch male, I am aware of a range of privileges that have likely shaped my screen use experiences, including financial access to digital media, mainstream educational placement that supported my digital literacy, and sufficient autonomy to choose how and when I engage with screens. I also acknowledge that my cognitive and adaptive capacities may have influenced how I navigate digital environments. This positionality should, therefore, be taken into account when considering the insights I offer in this article.
Stress and Sensory Regulation
As I outlined in the introduction, screen use has been vital for me to decompress from unsafe or overstimulating environments. I also relied on screens within these environments, such as in crowded classrooms. Since I was already bullied, using my smartphone (e.g., for watching videos on my passions) was one of the few acceptable ways to remain calm compared with more stigmatized strategies such as stimming. This screen use helped me avoid meltdowns or shutdowns and preserve enough energy for moments when attention was essential, such as lectures or class exercises.
My lived experiences align with those reported by many autistic people. In a survey of autistic adults, 75% indicated using their smartphone specifically to regulate stress. 36 A qualitative study similarly found that technology can help autistic adults manage emotions in ways that feel safer and more controllable than face-to-face interactions. 37 Video games, such as dedicated Minecraft servers created by and for autistic children, have also been shown to help manage sensory overload and provide restorative spaces. 38 Finally, a quantitative study found a positive association between autistic children’s time spent watching television or using the internet and their ability to cope with stress. 39 Together, these findings suggest that screen use can support stress and sensory regulation across the lifespan.
Social Development
Screen use also opened doors to social learning that felt safer and more accessible than in-person interactions. While many of my peers enjoyed small talk or activities such as partying, I have always preferred more in-depth conversations. However, such conversations with people who did not share my passions felt incredibly hard. Through video games and social media, I was able to find people around the world who shared my interests and discuss them in a way that felt safe and predictable. Written communication also gave me more time to process what the other person meant and to consider how I wanted to respond. If an interaction became confusing, hostile, unsafe, or overstimulating, I could simply block, mute, or turn off my screen instead of being trapped in a social environment I could not leave. In this sense, virtual environments also provided a relatively safe space to understand how interactions can become problematic or harmful, when and why to trust others, and how to set boundaries, such as by not disclosing personal information when requested.
Beyond navigating safety and boundaries, the broader social skills I learned through screen use also transferred into physical environments. Peer interactions, live streams, videos, social media, and group chats provided safe spaces to observe and learn neurotypical social behavior and norms, such as turn-taking, interpreting irony and sarcasm, and when and how to disclose emotions. Reddit, for instance, contains countless forums where people ask for advice in social situations, allowing me to “lurk” and learn from their discussions. Movies and sitcoms, though fictional, helped me with emotion recognition and nonverbal cues, as these tend to be exaggerated and clearer for me to interpret. These observations helped me to develop social scripts to anticipate and communicate with greater confidence in real-life situations.
Once again, I am not alone in these perceptions. A qualitative study with 12 autistic adolescent boys reported that online gaming provided opportunities to form friendships with peers while also enhancing agency and self-regulation. 40 Furthermore, a qualitative study in 34 autistic adults found that social media use could benefit users in various ways, including reduced social pressure, lower barriers to communicating with peers with similar interests, more time to process information, opportunities to observe social norms, and multiple communication options (e.g., via text or images). 41 Video modeling, an intervention in which people learn by observing video demonstrations, has also been shown to enhance various socio-emotional skills in autistic people. 42
Executive Functioning
Screens also became a space where I could practice planning, organizing, and problem-solving. As a young child, I was passionate about single-player tycoon (e.g., building theme parks), simulation (e.g., building medieval cities), and sports management games. These games strengthened executive functioning skills that I still rely on today. For example, long-term planning, pattern recognition, and database editing of football players closely resemble the research planning and data analysis I now conduct in my doctoral work. A passion of my teenage years, speedrunning (i.e., finishing games as fast as possible), improved my fine motor skills, hand-eye coordination, and inhibitory control. Beyond gameplay, forums and news sites where I shared strategies taught me to navigate and cooperate in digital spaces and improved my English writing. When work shifted to remote environments, these experiences gave me a head start compared with my colleagues.
Besides games, other screen-based tools have also helped me navigate daily life. As a visual thinker, I benefit most from on-demand animated videos, which present information in a format far easier for me to understand and apply than static books or verbal instructions. Visually following tasks through videos and live streams makes it easier for me to initiate and stay engaged in daily activities, such as cooking and cleaning, even if only through a sense of others’ presence. Personalized planning and calendar apps help me remember events I may otherwise forget, and large language models (LLMs) help me perform new or complex tasks, for example, by breaking them down into smaller, more manageable steps or by generating images that visually map each stage.
Consistent with my experiences, three systematic reviews—some focusing exclusively on autistic samples and others including broader neurodevelopmental populations—concluded that video games show promise in enhancing executive functioning, along with improvements in social-emotional cognition and language skills.43–45 In a qualitative study with 10 autistic young adults, participants reported gains in cognitive functioning through video games, describing them as environments that tolerate failure and encourage perseverance. 46 Participants also noted that games could support their career development by helping them acquire specific skills (e.g., spelling) and by broadening their interests (e.g., learning about history through historical games). More generally, a review of 11 studies in autistic adults concluded that assistive technology may be effective in supporting a wide range of executive-functioning demands. 47
Mental Health
Screen use also supported my mental health more broadly. Digital tools have provided me with opportunities to discover my strengths, creativity, and identity, increasing my self-understanding and self-worth. Engaging in online autistic communities enabled me to identify, accept, and embrace my autistic characteristics, foster a sense of connectedness, reduce self-stigma, and learn to navigate challenges from peers. Recently, I also began using tailored mental health tools (e.g., mindfulness apps) and LLMs. For instance, a specifically configured conversational AI in ChatGPT has helped me deal with my rejection sensitivity by allowing me to reflect on social situations and express my feelings in a nonjudgmental manner.
A systematic review of 23 studies found that autistic individuals often use information and communication technology to decrease loneliness and increase belonging, for example, by connecting with autistic communities and strengthening autistic identity. 48 Evidence also suggests that tailored mental health applications can improve psychological well-being in autistic individuals. 49 The perceived usefulness of chatbots has likewise been reported by autistic people in several studies, with users describing them as predictable and safe conversational partners for social support, emotional expression, and reframing negative self-talk.50,51 Finally, a study found associations between parent-reported screen time and diagnoses of anxiety and depression in nonautistic youth, but not in autistic youth, highlighting the need for more nuanced views on screen use in autism. 52
Integration
In this essay, I have described how screen use has supported my development and well-being as an autistic person by fulfilling my core needs—particularly predictability, safety, autonomy, and meaningful belonging—which in turn enhance my stress and sensory regulation, social development, executive functioning, and mental health. Whether screen use accentuated or simply aligned with my autistic characteristics, I believe screen use has contributed positively to my life.
The studies I highlighted show that the advantages of screen use are not unique to me. Autistic individuals have long reported similar benefits and critiqued deficit-focused interpretations of their screen use. 53 Researchers are also beginning to document more differentiated perspectives, including by questioning normative neurotypical benchmarks 40 and developing guidelines on screen use that aim to better account for autistic youths’ needs and preferences, although such guidelines still rarely incorporate participatory methods.54,55 These developments also align with broader critiques of the screen time discourse, which argue that its narrow focus on duration and harm is insufficient to capture the functions, contexts, and meanings of screen use, including its potential benefits.12,56 Nevertheless, public and academic communication on screen use in autism continues to emphasize excessive use and its potential harms, 2 limiting opportunities to understand how screens can be used to support development and well-being.
Of course, this does not imply that all screen use is beneficial for everyone. I have also experienced downsides, including sensory overload, disrupted sleep, and cyberbullying. Being relatively privileged and having higher cognitive capacities and digital literacy, I may have been less vulnerable to those downsides and better able to navigate online environments without experiencing major harms (e.g., exposure to predators, abuse, or scams). Given that such risks may be more pronounced for some autistic individuals (e.g., due to stigma, communication differences, or co-occurring conditions), 27 ongoing attention is needed to understand how these risks can be minimized.
Moreover, the effects of screen use I discussed should not be interpreted as direct consequences of autistic traits alone; rather, they may reflect broader, bidirectional processes that also involve co-occurring mental health conditions, such as anxiety, depression, and ADHD. Relatedly, I acknowledge that some of the ways I rely on screens are shaped by environmental stressors, societal barriers, and unmet support needs rather than inherent preferences. I, therefore, stress that such context-driven screen use should never be used as a reason to deny appropriate accommodations.
Furthermore, it is important to acknowledge that the digital landscape has changed substantially over time and that my childhood experiences or earlier research on screen use may not reflect how digital media are experienced today. In contrast to my youth, contemporary screen media are more mobile, commercial, and algorithmically driven (e.g., Instagram and TikTok) and are explicitly designed to sustain engagement, sometimes exposing users to harmful content. 57 At the same time, earlier generations had less access to supportive resources, such as on-demand educational content and online communities. The recent emergence of AI has further transformed the digital environment, bringing both potential benefits (e.g., LLM-based support 58 ) and risks (e.g., the reproduction of stereotypes 59 ). Yet, these developments only further highlight the highly context-dependent nature of screen use and the limitations of time-based framings such as “screen time.”
Recommendations
To move beyond such framings, I propose a more nuanced, neurodiversity-affirmative research agenda on screen use in autism. Such an agenda should:
Move beyond the construct of “screen time” by adopting terminology that captures how and why digital media is used (e.g., “screen use” or “digital media engagement”). Examine the functions, contexts, and underlying reasons of this use. Assess both potential benefits and risks in relation to the contextual factors that shape them. Evaluate outcomes that center autistic people’s autonomy, agency, and well-being. Acknowledge and respect neurodivergent developmental pathways and preferences. Employ participatory and mixed-method approaches. When direct involvement is not feasible (e.g., due to young participant age), research should collaborate with autistic proxies to guide design and interpretation.
Together, these principles can inform research, recommendations, and policies that support more context-sensitive decisions and enable autistic individuals to use screens in ways that genuinely enhance their development, mental health, and well-being on their own terms.
Footnotes
Acknowledgments
The author thanks Lisa Krijnen, PhD, for her feedback on earlier drafts of this essay.
Authorship Confirmation Statement
The article has been submitted solely to Autism in Adulthood.
Author Disclosure Statement
No competing financial interests exist.
Funding Information
No funding was received for this article.
