Autism Answers Back

A Blow to the Autistic Gut: When Science Forgets Ethics

file_0000000067a461f9a7a13f0f9548b656 How microbiome science disguises cure logic as therapy

The study in question:

Elucidating the interplay between gut microbiota and autism spectrum disorder. New insights and therapeutic perspectives
Acta Microbiologica et Immunologica Hungarica, 2025 by Maria Mavridou, Maria Anna Kyriazidi, Sotiris Varlamis, Petros Skepastianos, Stella Mitka, Vasileios Papaliagkas, Maria Chatzidimitriou

The Cure is Always Somewhere Else

When the genetics story stalls, researchers pivot to the environment. When that feels too broad, they pivot to the gut. This review takes bacterial diversity and turns it into destiny. If autistic difference is a microbiome error, then medical authority gets to prescribe fixes.

Disorder by Definition

From the opening line autism is framed as a “neurodevelopmental disorder” with “impairments.” That’s not neutral. It’s a setup. Once you define us as broken, any deviation in the data looks like a clue to pathology, not variation.

One of their favorite proofs: transplant stool from autistic children into germ-free mice, then point at the rodents’ “autism-like behaviors.” Translation: strip away human complexity until you can pretend causation is settled. That logic doesn’t hold if you reverse it — no one gives neurotypical mice diarrhea and calls it evidence of normality.

Fixing Bacteria, Fixing Children

The paper doesn’t stop at correlation. It openly markets probiotics, prebiotics, antibiotics and fecal microbiota transplantation (FMT) as therapies. The end goal isn’t comfort for autistic kids with stomach pain. It’s “improving behavior.” Once again, relief is secondary to compliance.

What is FMT?
Fecal microbiota transplantation (FMT) means taking stool from a “healthy” donor and transferring it into another person’s gut — by capsule, tube, or enema. It’s already used in medicine to treat recurrent infections like C. difficile. But here it’s being pitched as a way to modify autistic children’s behavior. That leap — from easing gastrointestinal distress to “normalizing” identity — is where the harm lies.

Stress is the Missing Variable

What none of these studies test is whether autistic gut pain comes from the pressure to survive in hostile environments. Chronic stress reshapes the microbiome. So do forced compliance, sensory overload and years of medical coercion. If our stomachs hurt, maybe it’s because of the world’s treatment of us — including the way scientists frame our bodies — not because our bacteria need replacing.

Who Benefits, Who Pays

Better Questions Than “How Do We Normalize”

  1. How do stress, medication and restricted diets imposed on autistic kids shape gut health?
  2. Why does “reduce autistic traits” get more funding than “reduce pain”?
  3. What would microbiome studies look like if autistic people set the research agenda?

The Question That Remains

Behind the multi-omics jargon and animal models, the story is simple: if autism can be induced in mice, maybe it can be prevented in children. That’s not discovery — that’s cure hunting dressed as microbiology.

The deeper problem is that this kind of work blurs medical care into identity correction. When science treats autistic children’s bodies as sites for invasive normalization, it stops being neutral inquiry. It becomes a failure of ethics disguised as progress.

So the question is not whether autism lives in the gut. The question is: how many times will researchers shift the blame from our lives to our bodies before they admit the harm runs in their frame, not in our bacteria?