Here we go again. Do vaccines cause autism? That’s the crux of the debate sparked by Sridhar Vembu, the founder of Zoho, who recently posted a link on X — formerly Twitter — asking parents to take the analysis seriously, and claiming that we are giving too many vaccines and ergo, “seeing a rapid increase in autism in India.” When it was pointed out that the links between autism and vaccines are not proven, he appeared to double down. And while this debate raged on, all I could feel was the same frustration I have had for the past three years.
Because I’m someone who has been part of this parent community, navigating the ever-changing storm of this diagnosis, often handed out in the coldest, harshest of ways. It doesn’t matter where the child lies on the spectrum —mild, moderate, or severe — for parents, especially mothers, this is a life-altering diagnosis. The journey of early interventions and therapies is spent in isolation and reimagining finances in a way you never thought possible. And I wish someone with as powerful a platform as Mr Vembu would choose to shed light on the issues impacting parents, rather than obsessing over causes and cures.
First, I don’t see his tweet as another “boomer uncle” moment. He has spoken in the past about how autism destroyed his family life. I understand the toll this diagnosis has taken, and I have the most profound empathy for him. But in no way am I endorsing this anti-vaccine theory. But what we really need is a discussion on the lack of support for parents and caregivers.
We need significant policy-level changes if we intend to support families with neurodivergent children. The most basic: Health insurance in India should cover therapy for our children. Therapy that some kids need lifelong. Therapy that in some cases costs Rs 50,000 to Rs 60,000 per month, as families run from centre to centre. Therapy that many parents give up on after two years, because the finances don’t make sense anymore.
I wish Mr Vembu would also talk about how parents of neurodivergent kids need a more relaxed and flexible work routine, without impacting their salaries. I’m not sure if Zoho offers special concessions for parents with such children, and I hope they do. However, this kind of policy at a national level could make life much easier for many caregivers.
Let’s also discuss how access to sound therapy is currently limited to the metros and tier-1 cities at best. There are not enough human resources, and very few centres are subsidised by the government. For poor and middle-class parents, this diagnosis has no hope because there is no help available.
Assuming you can afford therapy, finding a compassionate therapist who understands neurodivergence and is in line with the best practices being followed globally is like searching for a unicorn. And I write this as someone who had access to an excellent early intervention programme. However, that is not the case for most parents in India.
Some are on the constant hunt for a new centre, because progress can often stall, frustrating them. Sometimes regression creeps in, and parents find themselves back to the drawing board, trying to figure out where they went wrong.
We should also discuss how parents spend years trying to find a school where inclusivity is more than a buzzword. Most of India’s schools, even the best private ones, are woefully unequipped to handle neurodivergent children. The harsh reality is that the school system is often designed to get rid of children who do not meet developmental milestones, can be disruptive, require constant movement, and usually struggle to make friends. There’s social exclusion that many neurodivergent children face at a social level, especially as they grow older.
Finally, let’s not forget the sheer amount of online misinformation on autism, targeting vulnerable parents. Instagram therapists sermonising and offering masterclasses, diet detoxes, and new treatments. Parents do fall victim to these. They spend life savings on some of these treatments, hoping for a change. We need systems in place to protect vulnerable parents.
And of course, we need more acceptance of this word itself. Because most view it as something shameful, never to be uttered publicly. It takes a particular kind of toughness to be a parent who does not shy away from using the label. To understand that I didn’t cause this or vaccines or screens or my gestational diabetes — but rather, there is a strong genetic component to this. I’d say it takes a special kind of fierceness to presume competence in your child, even when the world is placing doubt. And I really wish Mr Vembu would talk about that; instead, this autism debate never moves past those dreaded vaccines.
The writer is a former journalist
