Understanding Monotropism
When Your Mind Is a One-Lane Highway
Picture it: You're deep in a project that fascinates you. Hours pass unnoticed. The world around you fades into background noise. Side note: for those of us with hypersensitivity to noise, this is often the only break we get from “background” noise. Funny how the brain works. You forget to eat, drink, or even acknowledge the person trying to get your attention. When you finally surface, you're simultaneously exhilarated by what you've accomplished and completely drained, sometimes ashamed. If this sounds familiar, you might be experiencing what researchers call monotropism.
My Experience: The Intensity of Single-Channel Focus
I've always known my brain works differently, but even after my autism diagnosis, I didn’t fully understand this aspect of my brain. I didn't have words for it until I discovered monotropism. When something captures my attention—whether it's a work project, a fascinating article, or even organizing my embroidery thread—I don't just focus on it. I become it. My entire being narrows to that single point of interest.
The experience is both an enormous strength and a vulnerability. In that focused state, I can accomplish some pretty amazing things. I solve complex problems, dive deep into subjects that others only skim, and enter what psychologists call "flow states" with ease. But the cost is real: I struggle to shift between tasks, often feel exhausted after periods of intense focus, and sometimes miss important cues from the world around me.
What I used to think of as personal quirks (I mean, there are so many, right?)—my difficulty with interruptions, my need for recovery time after switching tasks, my tendency to hyperfocus—suddenly made sense within this framework. I wasn't lacking willpower; my brain was simply operating with a different attentional strategy.
What Is Monotropism?
Monotropism describes minds that tend to have their attention pulled more strongly towards a smaller number of interests at any given time, leaving fewer resources for other processes. The term was first developed in the 1990s by autistic researchers Dinah Murray, Wenn Lawson, and Mike Lesser, who published their foundational work in 2005.
The word breaks down beautifully: "mono" meaning "one" or "single" in contrast to "poly" meaning "many," while "tropism" refers to directional movement or growth, borrowed from biology. Think of it as the difference between a laser beam and a floodlight; both illuminate, but in fundamentally different ways.
Since the amount of attention available to any person is limited, cognitive processes are forced to compete. In the monotropic mind, interests that are active at any given time tend to consume most of the available attention. This creates an "attention tunnel"—a state of focused concentration that can produce remarkable depth but limited breadth.
The Research Behind the Experience
What I love about monotropism theory is that it came from autistic people, not some researchers in lab coats studying us like specimens. And you can tell the difference. It actually gets what our lives feel like in a way other theories just... don't.
The original research looked at monotropism alongside all those autism diagnostic criteria we know and love (howdy, DSM and ICD), and found that this one thing - how our attention works - could explain so many traits that seem totally unconnected. Instead of autism being this laundry list of things we're "bad at," monotropism says we just think differently. And different comes with both strengths and struggles.
The research has gotten really exciting lately. There's this 2023 Monotropism Questionnaire study by Garau and others that created the first real tool to measure monotropic traits - basically giving science a way to prove what so many have been saying all along about how our brains work.
But here's the cool part: monotropism isn't just an autism thing. It's more like a spectrum that includes everyone, with autism being way over on one end of how intensely our attention works. That's why so many neurotypical people hear about this and go, "Oh wait, that sounds like me sometimes." A smidge of the 'tism, as we joke - though we hear that one a lot, don't we?
The Daily Reality: Task-Switching and Energy Costs
Where monotropism really hits home is in all those everyday things that seem so simple to everyone else. You know those struggles with starting tasks or switching between them? That's not laziness or being difficult - that's just how our monotropic brains work. Researchers use the snazzy term "autistic inertia."
Think about it like this: when we get into flow - what they call monotropic absorption - we're all in. Like, really ALL in. We're pouring pretty much everything we've got into whatever we're doing. And just like in physics, it takes energy to get that momentum going, and it takes energy to stop it, too. We can't just casually split our attention like flipping light switches - we're more like moving a whole freight train.
Every time we have to switch tasks, there's this real cost. Not just "oh, this is annoying" but actual energy getting drained from having to completely redirect all that intense focus. It's like constantly having to slam on the brakes and then restart the engine. Do that enough times without a chance to actually recharge, and hello, burnout.
So when I say a day packed with meetings, random interruptions, and bouncing between tasks isn't just unproductive for us - it's legitimately exhausting in a way that's really hard to explain to people who don't experience it. And don't even get me started on how schools are set up, especially high schools. It's like they designed the perfect recipe for constantly breaking our flow and wearing us out.
The Invisible Costs: When the World Doesn't Fit
One of the hardest parts about being monotropic? The world we live in just wasn't built for how our brains work. Every single day, we're getting the message that our way of thinking is wrong. We're shoved into systems, like school, that want us to skim the surface of a million different things instead of diving deep into what actually interests us. And job postings? Don't even get me started. "Fast-paced environment! Must be flexible! Love switching between tasks!" Yeah... that's not us. I mean, we CAN do it, but it's going to cost us big time.
When our brains are in that super-focused state, everything else just... disappears. Someone could be talking right next to us, and we won't hear them. We forget to eat. We forget to drink water. And when we finally surface? We're completely wiped out.
Here's something that doesn't get talked about enough: when we're so focused on whatever has our attention, we might completely miss what our body is trying to tell us. Those subtle signals about needing a break, feeling hungry, or getting overwhelmed? If they're not loud enough to break through our focus, we just don't notice them. Then we wonder why we feel terrible later.
And socially? It's rough. We can't do that thing where people listen to someone talk while also reading their facial expressions and taking notes, and thinking about what to say next. Pick one! In school, teachers would tell us to take notes while listening to the lesson, and it was like being asked to pat your head and rub your stomach while reciting the alphabet backwards.
The Extraordinary Gifts: Deep Thinking and Flow States
Let’s talk about the good parts. Monotropism isn't just about what we struggle with. It comes with some pretty incredible strengths that usually get completely overlooked. Sure, we might miss what's happening outside our attention tunnel, but inside that tunnel? Magic happens. We get that laser-focused attention that leads to those amazing flow states where we're completely absorbed in what we're doing.
You know that feeling when you're so into something that time just disappears? That's flow, and it's not just fun - it's where our best work comes from. It's where we shine.
While other people are skimming along the surface of things, we're diving deep. Like, REALLY deep. We'll explore ideas and dive into subjects in ways that people with broader attention styles just can't. And that's where the cool stuff happens - the innovations, the expertise, the insights that nobody else would have thought of because they weren't willing to go that deep.
I think my favorite thing about monotropism theory is it says that following our interests isn't just nice to have - it's essential for our wellbeing. When we get to work WITH our brains instead of constantly fighting against them, so much changes. We're not just more productive, we're actually happier and healthier too. That feels revolutionary.
A Different Framework: From Deficit to Difference
The monotropism theory completely flips the script on how we think about neurodivergent attention. For the longest time, we didn't have a theory that actually made sense of autism in a complete way. Monotropism filled that huge gap - suddenly, we had something that explained all those well-known autistic traits without assuming we're broken or missing something.
And this matters way beyond academic papers and research studies. When we start seeing monotropism as a different way of thinking instead of something that needs to be cured, everything shifts. Instead of constantly trying to "fix" how our attention works, we can actually design spaces and systems that work WITH us instead of against us.
Fergus Murray - his mom Dinah is one of the researchers who developed this theory - puts it perfectly: “understanding the monotropic mind is already helping anyone who lives or works with autistic people. When people actually get how our brains work, we get better support, there's less conflict, and honestly? Everyone benefits.”
It's not about making us fit into a world that wasn't built for us. It's about recognizing that our way of thinking has value and building systems that let us thrive.
Finding Balance: Working With Your Cognitive Style
Understanding monotropism has practical implications for daily life. We are all in a constant state of flux, and this needs to be considered when analyzing questionnaires and managing your own life or supporting others. What works one time may not work the next. What you can successfully achieve with ease one day may feel nearly impossible another time.
This means developing strategies that honor your monotropic nature while managing the demands of a polytropic world. I find success in batching similar tasks. Others focus on creating longer periods for deep work and building in recovery time after task switches. Whatever works for you, it’s important to learn to recognize your attention patterns and plan accordingly.
The key is self-compassion. Shutdowns are often the result of someone feeling so frustrated that they could melt down, but knowing that to do so would be even worse. Whichever way they go, meltdowns and shutdowns take a huge mental and physical toll and require substantial recovery time.
Looking Forward: A More Inclusive Understanding
Monotropism theory continues to gain recognition, but there's still work to be done. Many autistic people find monotropism to be quite a bit more consistent with their personal experiences than other theories of autism. This suggests that lived experience and scientific understanding are finally beginning to align.
To quote Fergus Murray again, "in a few years psychologists will look back at the fragmentary accounts they have been working with, and wonder why it all seemed such a puzzle for so long" (Murray, 2018).
For those of us who recognize ourselves in this description, monotropism offers something invaluable: a framework that makes sense of our experience without pathologizing it. It explains why certain situations drain us, why we excel in others, and why we need different supports than our polytropic peers.
Whether you're monotropic yourself, supporting someone who is, or simply curious about cognitive diversity, understanding monotropism opens doors to more inclusive thinking about how minds work. In a world that demands we all think alike, recognizing and honoring different cognitive styles isn't just good practice—it's essential for everyone to thrive.
For those wanting to explore further, the Monotropism website houses extensive resources, including the archives of pioneering researcher Dinah Murray. The community continues to grow our understanding of how monotropic minds experience the world.
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About the Author
Gal is an autistic artist, late-diagnosed at 49, and the creator of AuRTistic Expressions—a space where neurodivergent truth meets creative survival. Through blog posts, printables, courses, and the “This Might Get Messy” podcast, Gal explores what it means to unmask safely, communicate authentically, and make art that doesn’t ask for permission. Stick around—there’s plenty more where this came from.
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References
Garau, V., Murray, A. L., Woods, R., Chown, N., et al. (2023). Development and validation of a novel self-report measure of monotropism in autistic and non-autistic people: The Monotropism Questionnaire. Autism, preprint.
Lawson, W. (2011). The passionate mind: How individuals with autism learn. Jessica Kingsley Publishers.
Murray, D. (2018). Monotropism – An interest based account of autism. In F. Volkmar (Ed.), Encyclopedia of autism spectrum disorders. Springer.
Murray, D., Lesser, M., & Lawson, W. (2005). Attention, monotropism and the diagnostic criteria for autism. Autism, 9(2), 139-156.
Murray, F. (2018). Me and monotropism: A unified theory of autism. The Psychologist, 31, 44-49. Available at: https://www.bps.org.uk/psychologist/me-and-monotropism-unified-theory-autism
World Health Organization. (1992). The International Classification of Mental and Behavioural Disorders: Clinical descriptions and diagnostic guidelines (10th rev. ed.). Geneva: WHO.
American Psychiatric Association. (1994). Diagnostic and statistical manual of mental disorders (4th ed.). Washington, DC: Author.
