Echolalia Isn’t Broken Speech — It’s a Different Kind of Voice
What if the words autistic children repeat aren’t random?
Echolalia Isn’t Broken Speech — It’s a Different Kind of Voice
Reframing the Research on Autistic Language
What if the words autistic children repeat aren’t random?
What if they’re meaningful — even when they don’t look like conversation?
A 2025 paper by Jacek J. Błeszyński, titled “Speech of People with Autism,” takes a closer look at echolalia — not to extinguish it, but to understand it. It doesn’t frame repetition as dysfunction. It studies how, when and why it happens — and what that might reveal about how autistic children engage, express and connect.
Not a Deficit. A Pattern.
For decades, echolalia — the repetition of words, phrases or sounds — has been framed as a hallmark symptom of autism. A flaw. A delay. A script to unlearn.
But Błeszyński’s research tells a more complex story.
He breaks echolalia down into types:
- Direct echolalia: immediate repetition
- Postponed echolalia: echoes that appear hours or days later
- Mild or functional echolalia: repetition used in personally meaningful ways
In some children, these repetitions become tools — ways to explore language, manage attention or participate in communication. In Błeszyński’s words, when used functionally, this can represent a “huge success in communication.”
The echo isn’t just mimicry. It’s structure. It’s sometimes even strategy.
Communication Isn’t Always Convention
One of the most important insights from this paper is that echolalic speech often includes intentional variation. It isn’t always a carbon copy. In phonetic graphics, Błeszyński compares therapist phrases like “Jak się masz?” (How are you?) or “Co robisz?” (What are you doing?) with a child’s echoed reply.
The result? Different pitch. Altered rhythm. Changed intonation. The child isn’t just repeating — they’re reframing.
That’s not dysfunction. That’s divergence. And it might be the beginning of real dialogue.
The Echo as Intent
Błeszyński emphasizes that echolalia isn’t necessarily random. In fact, it often reflects the autistic child’s current state, focus or need — and may contain signs of phonological awareness and intentional engagement.
He doesn’t go so far as to say echolalia always carries intent. But he does reject the idea that echolalic speech should be dismissed as meaningless. Instead, he argues it can — and often does — represent an attempt at communication, even if that attempt is shaped differently than we expect.
It may start as repetition, but it can still be expressive. And over time, it can evolve into interaction.
What This Means for Caregivers and Clinicians
If you’re a therapist, a teacher or a parent, this research is an invitation to look again.
Don’t rush to extinguish echolalia. Pause long enough to ask what’s being communicated.
Not just “what are they saying?” but:
- What role is repetition playing?
- What emotion is layered into the sound?
- What might the timing or pitch tell us about intent?
If we treat echolalia as a problem to eliminate, we miss a chance to connect.
If we treat it as a starting point — a bridge, not a barrier — then therapy, education and care can shift toward understanding, not just adjustment.
The Bigger Frame
Autism isn’t the absence of communication. It’s a different configuration of it.
Echolalia isn’t just evidence of delay. It’s often a sign of persistence — of effort, adaptation and a desire to stay in the conversation, even when the language doesn’t follow expected rules.
So the next time an autistic child echoes back your words — don’t dismiss it.
Listen again.
Because some of us start in echo. And from there, we speak back.