Was Cavendish autistic?

Cavendish was born in 1731 in Nice, where his mother, Lady Anne Cavendish (fourth daughter of the Duke of Kent), was convalescing. Two years later she died, following the birth of Henry’s younger brother, Fredrick. Lord Charles Cavendish (third son of the second Duke of Devonshire) and his two sons moved to Great Marlborough Street in London in 1738. In December 1749 Cavendish matriculated at Peterhouse College, Cambridge, leaving three years later without taking a degree. He thereafter lived with his father in Great Marlborough Street until the latter’s death in 1783, where he spent his time on scientific (predominantly chemical and electrical) research. Cavendish continued to live in and around London after his father’s death, first in Hampstead and then in Clapham. He also retained a town house in Great Marlborough Street and later in Dean Street, Soho. The latter was used exclusively as a private library where his books were ‘at the command of all men of letters’ (Young, 1921).

Cavendish first attended the Royal Society in June 1758 as a guest of his father and was elected into the Society in May 1760. Six years later, his first paper on the composition of ‘airs’ was published. He was elected to the Council of the Royal Society in 1765. This appears to have been Cavendish’s sole social outlet. He continued to live a life of seclusion and routine until his death at the age of 79.

Among Cavendish’s most outstanding achievements were the discovery of hydrogen (after initially equating it with phlogiston), the description of the chemical composition of water and nitric acid, and a remarkably accurate calculation of the density of the earth. He also made many innovative and important discoveries in mechanical heat, thermometry and electricity, particularly in anticipating the theories now attributed to the later work of Coulomb (1736–1806) and Ohm (1789–1854).

The fine line between creative genius and madness has historically been of great interest; noted among many others by the Roman Seneca (‘nullum magnum ingenium sine mixtura dementiæ’ – ‘There is no great genius without a tincture of madness’), the empiricist Mill (1859), and Dryden in his classical statement, ‘Great Wits are sure to Madness near ally’d; And thin Partitions do their Bounds divide’ (Dryden, 1961). Frith noted that the idea has indeed been with us for centuries, but it is ‘only now that we are considering that the madness in question may point to autism’ (Frith, 1991). This is of course a generalised view, for autistic ‘creation’ as it is increasingly being understood is markedly different from the creativity found in artists and writers. Consequently, a more realistic view differentiates these, regarding artistic and scientific creativity as different phenomena. Consequently, there are various forms of ‘madness’ that characterise the distinction. Thus, a popular view holds that artistic creativity is often accompanied by depressive and mood disorders (e.g., bipolar disease), whereas schizotypal and autistic spectrum disorders have a higher incidence among scientists. Certainly, in science and particularly in Cavendish’s case, characteristics such as a single all consuming interest exclusively pursued, a concrete reasoning method, and total disinterest in social interaction combined to allow a successful research approach. This condition may well have provided Cavendish with exactly the dispositions that made his remarkable achievements possible.

Frith (1989) made a basic but important observation when she wrote that ‘in view of the short history of psychiatry… we know that a disorder recently described is not necessarily a recent disorder.’ This refers in part to the lack of understanding of people with autism and Asperger’s syndrome (AS) in the past, individuals whom Aykroyd (1935) claimed were to be ‘found in any lunatic asylum.’ It specifically explains why Cavendish was misunderstood by his contemporaries and why he has continued to be misunderstood by his biographers. When examining the cases of Hugh Blair of Borgue and John Howard, Frith noted that these examples ‘allow us to see the helpful effects of a privileged social background on autism at a time when there was no awareness of the disorder.’ A privileged background is thus likely to allow the social exclusion that would be denied to other classes. Cavendish could live a life of research because he had the means to detach himself from society. However, those from less privileged backgrounds, who could not shun society so easily, may well have found themselves in the lunatic asylums Aykroyd mentioned.

Although there were missing details of Hugh Blair’s early life, Frith concluded that a ‘retrospective clinical diagnosis of autism’ was allowed because he showed ‘all the typical features of autism.’ Fitzgerald (2004) agreed with Frith and Houston’s (2000) claim that it is possible to come to a definite conclusion as to whether a deceased person had autism, declaring that, ‘I believe the psychohistorical approach shows that the diagnoses are not fanciful or speculative.’ They are, however, hypotheses relative to the information available. In contrast, Gillberg (2002) advised that ‘it is always speculative to examine case studies in retrospect, and there can be no ‘truth’ regarding who ‘had’; and did not ‘have’ AS in most cases not clinically examined.’ Gillberg’s caution has largely been ignored by an increasingly popular trend in the literature of ‘labelling’ historical figures with various syndromes. Although there is nothing inherently wrong with this endeavour, there is a tendency to apply the syndrome to cases where it is dubious that it actually pertains. In this sense, it is vital that a full argument together with the relevant diagnostic scheme is presented in each case. Given the very informative accounts that remain from Cavendish’s contemporaries, it certainly seems very likely that he had AS. This, however, remains a hypothesis relative to the strength of the arguments that can be made within Gillberg’s and the DSM-IV framework.

A related point of caution is the danger of simplistically thinking that one can split the field of psychological syndromes into those who ‘have’ and do ‘not have’ a particular syndrome. Instead, like many other psychological disorders, AS occurs within a spectrum (the autism spectrum) and so one can have some of the cognitive traits associated with AS whilst falling short of actually having the syndrome itself. Indeed, many researchers have claimed that creativity can be best associated with cases where an individual has the cognitive traits of a psychosis but does not have the actual psychosis. This is particularly relevant of the personality construct, ‘schizotypy’ (e.g., Claridge, 1997, Claridge, 1998).

In line with the preferences of many experts in the field, and because of its greater descriptive value, the diagnostic scheme employed here is that used by Gillberg, 1991, Gillberg and Gillberg, 1989, further supplemented with reference to the DSM-IV (APA, 1994). Both Szatmari et al., 1989, World Health Organization, 1993 offer important diagnostic schemes, but Gillberg’s and the DSM-IV are preferred here (both are included as Appendices).

There is a tendency when considering AS to adhere too much to a view of the classic autistic child: aloof, unimaginative, and disinterested. This creates the misleading impression that autistic disorders and creativity or social–vocational success are mutually exclusive. Many leading researchers in the field have commented on this mistaken view. Frith (1989) pointed out that, ‘as adults AS individuals can become, superficially at least, well-adapted and some are exceptionally successful.’ The capacity for success tends to arise both from their intelligence and their focused concrete thinking style. Thus, in support of the former, Frith noted that ‘in some cases of superior intelligence a brilliant academic career is possible.’ She further noted the adaptive function that high intelligence allows: ‘…the presence of high intelligence makes an enormous difference to the manifestation of a disorder, which can camouflage problems.’ Along with his privileged social position, Cavendish’s intelligence may therefore provide a second reason why he was regarded as more eccentric than mad. Gillberg (2002) similarly claimed that ‘high IQ is often the outstanding asset/strength in people with AS.’ So, as with normal variations in intelligence, there are considerable individual differences within the abilities of AS individuals: ‘…outcome in AS is very variable. Many with the disorder do well as adults and many attain status as leaders in their particular field’ (Gillberg, 2002).

As noted, potential for success derives not only from intelligence, but also from a characteristic style of thinking. Frith (1991) noted that ‘…fortunately, the ability to sustain strong interest in a particular area and to be absorbed and even enraptured by its pursuit can lead to outstanding achievement.’ Therefore intelligence and an ‘absorbed’ mentality are both important: ‘…the perseverance, drive for perfection, good concrete intelligence, ability to disregard social conventions, and not worry too much about other peoples’ opinions or critiques, could all be seen as advantages’ (Gillberg, 2002). So, it is quite possible that Cavendish could have achieved all that he did, whilst also having AS. Indeed the features of AS described by Gillberg look as though they were actually fundamental to Cavendish’s scientific discoveries.

The second of Gillberg’s six diagnostic criteria is the presence of a narrow interest which is either to the exclusion of all other activities, has repetitive adherence, or has more rote quality than meaning. Certainly, for Cavendish this narrow interest was to the exclusion of all other activities. The DSM-IV similarly postulates an ‘encompassing preoccupation with one or more stereotyped and restricted patterns of interest’ under the broader ‘restricted or repetitive stereotyped patterns of

Jungnickel and McCormmach (1999) claimed that ‘Cavendish’s life was his science’, and they seem right to have done so. Indeed, it was not a major exaggeration for Aykroyd (1935) to have written ‘revolutions might come and pass, a new era dawn, a great conqueror shake the foundations of Europe, but Cavendish had no concerns in such matters.’ His life was ‘a single minded dedication to comprehending the universe’ (McCormmach, 2004). As Blagden (1810) recollected, ‘The love of truth was sufficient

Gillberg stipulated a ‘compulsive need for introducing routines and interests’, which either affects every aspect of the individual’s life or which affects others, as his third criterion. Similarly, the second criterion of DSM-IV is a ‘restricted or repetitive and stereotyped pattern of behaviour, interests and activities.’ It has already been argued that Cavendish had an ‘encompassing preoccupation with one or more stereotyped and restricted patterns of interest.’ Although this is sufficient

An obvious point of departure from Gillberg’s criteria in the DSM-IV is the emphasis of no significant delay in language development (DSM-IV 4), whereas Gillberg suggested speech development may be delayed (4.a). In either case, because of a lack of information about Cavendish’s childhood, it is impossible to comment on the normality of his verbal development. Cavendish clearly did, however, have ‘odd prosody, peculiar voice characteristics’ (Gillberg 4.d) and, on at least one occasion,

In order to satisfy Gillberg’s fifth criterion (nonverbal communication), at least one of five symptoms must be manifested relating to: limited gesture, gauche body language, limited or inappropriate facial expression, and odd gaze. These are roughly equivalent to criterion 1.a of the DSM-IV. Cavendish’s peculiar facial expression was often remarked on, usually in reference to his ‘nervous disposition.’ For example, ‘his face was intelligent and mild, though, from the nervous irritation which

A view of classical autism (particularly routines carried out for no reason and very focused interests) can often have an undue influence on what AS is thought to be. It is very likely that the more intelligent the person, the more complex the circumscribed interest, the more advanced the meaning behind it and the stranger the inability to interact socially is in contrast. Cavendish was remarkably intelligent and this may well explain why his particular interest happened to be advanced

Wilson (1851) observed that Cavendish ‘allowed the larger part of them [his discoveries] to lie unused in his repositories’ – such that his published papers ‘give but an imperfect notion of the great extent of ground over which he traveled in the course of his investigations, and of the success with which he explored it.’ The same is noted by Sir Joseph Lamor, ‘careless though Cavendish was of scientific reputation, intent on pressing on to new solitary achievement, to the neglect of

In line with what one would expect with AS, Cavendish has also typically been characterised as a ‘quantifier’:

Whenever we catch sight of him we find him with his measuring-rod and balance, his graduated jar, thermometer, barometer, and table of logarithms… [Cavendish] required that every phenomenon and physical force should be held to be governed by law and admit of expression in mathematical or arithmetical symbols…

… His theory of the universe seems to have been, that it consisted solely of a

Cavendish never married; nor indeed does he appear to have had any (even remotely) close contact with women. It is certainly characteristic of males with AS that they find it difficult to mix with females – not unexpectedly considering the difficulty they have even with other males. It is clear that Cavendish could not abide being disturbed at home, especially by women. Lord Burlington and Lord Brougham both told Wilson that any maid who showed herself to Cavendish was to be dismissed. It is

The information available on Cavendish appears to be consistent with AS. Perhaps it may be suggested that he had a more classical form of autism, but this seems unlikely given Cavendish’s intelligence, language abilities, achievements, and attempts to interact in social situations. It might also be claimed that he simply had some of the cognitive traits of AS, without having the full syndrome (and therefore being disposed towards creativity without being hampered by the actual clinical