The Wellcome Leap FORM program reads like a polished revival of a very old idea: that autism might be prevented through biomedical management of mothers and infants. Only this time, the vector of “risk” isn’t vaccines or mercury or genes, it’s bacteria.
1. The Biomedical Gaze in a New Costume
FORM’s language is smooth and technocratic, but its underlying logic is classic biomedical reductionism. Autism is positioned as a “severe neurodevelopmental challenge” that could potentially be averted by correcting “gut microbiome dysfunction.” This reframes a complex, relational form of neurodivergence into a solvable biochemical problem, a defective ecosystem inside the child.
The stated goal; to reduce “severe autism-related difficulties by up to 75%” is a rhetorical sleight of hand. It sounds compassionate, but it encodes a value judgment: that the existence of certain Autistic people constitutes a problem to be solved. The language of “prevention” always implies a world in which those prevented lives would have been lesser or undesirable.
2. The Microbiome as Moral Terrain
The gut microbiome is a legitimate field of scientific interest. It certainly seems it affects a range of systems in the body. But FORM transforms that into moralised territory, a maternal environment that must be purified, managed, and optimised to produce neurologically healthy children.
This has chilling echoes of maternal responsibility discourse; mothers are framed as custodians of their infants’ future neurocognitive styles. Caesarean sections, antibiotic use, even body mass index are recast as potential contributors to autism, a move that places blame squarely on women’s medical and lifestyle choices, often without acknowledging structural determinants like poverty, medical racism, or inaccessible care.
3. Autism as Pathology, Again
The program’s selective focus on “severe autism-related difficulties” effectively erases the Autistic spectrum as a whole; as if there were a binary difference between “mild” and “severe”, simply a gradient of defect rather than a difference in support needs, environment, and accessibility.
Moreover, by treating autism as an adverse outcome, FORM re-asserts neuronormative values into public health. Instead of asking how we might create environments in which Autistic people can thrive, it asks how we can prevent Autistic people from existing in the first place.
This is not simply an ethical quibble; it shapes how funding, research, and services will evolve. Each pound or dollar spent on preventing autism is one not spent on ensuring Autistic children and adults have housing, communication access, or employment.
4. The Myth of the Missing Link
The central hypothesis; that a disrupted microbiome is the “missing link” in autism’s rising prevalence, relies on a deeply contested premise that autism is becoming more common due to environmental impact, rather than increased recognition and diagnostic equity. This epidemic framing has been debunked repeatedly, yet it persists because it justifies intervention.
The evidence offered is primarily correlational; antibiotic exposure, obesity, and gestational diabetes correlate with later autism diagnosis. Correlation is not causation, and the models invoked (animal studies, in vitro assays, digital twins) remain far removed from the lived complexity of human neurodevelopment.
When the paper suggests that by manipulating microbes we might restore “healthy neurodevelopment”, it leaps from association to causation without traversing the terrain of lived experience, social context, or neurodiversity itself.
5. The Neurodiversity Paradigm as Counterpoint
From a neurodiversity-affirming standpoint, autism is a natural manifestation of human diversity, a different configuration of cognition, perception, and sociality. The “difficulties” that FORM seeks to eliminate are largely produced by environments built for neuronormative peformance.
A neuroqueer theory rooted reading goes further: it sees the attempt to biologically normalise the developing brain as a disciplinary act, a form of biological regulation. It seeks to collapse difference into conformity before it can ever become embodied. This is not just bad ethics; it is an assault on diversity itself.
If we are genuinely concerned about Autistic suffering, the task is not to make changes to the microbiome, but to transform the world that pathologises difference; to build systems of healthcare, education, and employment that accommodate monotropic attention, sensory divergence, and alternative communication.
A world that invests in understanding the Autistic cultural experience could reduce distress far more effectively than one that seeks to prevent Autistic births.
6. The Unspoken Politics of “Severity”
FORM’s focus on “severe autism” plays a subtle rhetorical trick. By isolating this group, it invites public sympathy for biomedical intervention (“we just want to help the most affected children”), while maintaining an umbrella framework that can easily expand to encompass all autism. The same playbook was used historically with eugenic sterilisation and with the early gene-editing proposals. Once you define a subgroup as undesirable, the slope steepens.
7. The Better Question
Rather than “Can we prevent autism?” the more honest and humane question is: Why are Autistic lives so devalued that prevention seems preferable to inclusion?
There is no ethical justification for eliminating a neurocognitive style when our real problem is social intolerance. A microbiome-focused prevention program is not simply science; it is policy disguised as biology, one that risks repeating the moral errors of the eugenics era, wrapped in the language of health optimisation.
8. Toward a Different Science
If Wellcome Leap truly wants to support human flourishing, it could redirect this microbiome research toward improving Autistic health and wellbeing rather than prevention. There is credible evidence that many Autistic people experience more negative outcomes throughout a global range of domains; research could explore how to alleviate those without implying the person shouldn’t exist.
Such an approach would align with neurodivergence competence; research with, not on, Autistic people. It would honour the principle that every neurocognitive style is part of the human ecological system.
In short: FORM represents a sophisticated iteration of autism prevention discourse, masked as innovation. It risks pathologising Autistic existence under the guise of microbial optimisation.
A truly progressive science would not attempt to eradicate neurodivergence but to understand, include, and sustain it as part of humanity’s evolving diversity.