Right on the First Try, or a Total Failure: Navigating the World of All-or-Nothing Thinking in Autism
- Atiyeh Sadeghi

- Jun 11
- 4 min read
Updated: Jul 17
We’ve all been there. You’re learning a new skill—a new language, a piece of music, a complex coding problem. You make a mistake. You stumble. For many, this is a normal, if sometimes frustrating, part of the learning curve. It’s a signpost, not a stop sign.
But what if every mistake felt like a verdict? What if the world wasn’t a spectrum of progress, but a stark, binary switch: success or failure, perfect or worthless, genius or idiot?
Welcome to the world of absolutist thinking.

For many autistic individuals, this cognitive style—often called "black-and-white" or "all-or-nothing" thinking—isn't a personality quirk; it’s the brain's default operating system. It shapes how they perceive rules, relationships, and, most critically, their own abilities. This mindset can turn the classroom, the workplace, and the hobbyist's desk into a high-stakes emotional battleground, summed up by a single, powerful internal monologue:
"I either get it right on the first try, or I am a total failure."
What is Black-and-White Thinking?
Imagine your mind works like a light switch. Things are either ON or OFF. There is no dimmer. A friend is either loyal or a traitor. A rule is either followed to the letter or it's completely broken. A project is either perfect or it's garbage.
This isn't a choice to be dramatic. It’s a neurological tendency rooted in the way the autistic brain processes information. While the exact "why" is still being researched, several factors are believed to contribute:
A Need for Predictability: The world can feel chaotic, overwhelming, and sensorially aggressive to an autistic person. Absolutes create order. Black-and-white categories are predictable, safe, and easy to navigate. The "gray area," with all its nuance and uncertainty, can be intensely anxiety-inducing. "Good enough" is a vague and stressful target; "perfect" is a clear one.
Focus on Details (Reduced Central Coherence): Autistic individuals often have a powerful ability to focus on the details of a system, sometimes at the expense of seeing the bigger picture. When learning a new skill, that "detail" might be a single mistake. This single error can become so magnified that it eclipses all the effort and progress surrounding it. The entire attempt is now defined by that one flaw.
Anxiety and Rejection Sensitivity: Many autistic people experience heightened anxiety and a profound sensitivity to rejection or failure. In this context, making a mistake doesn't just feel like a misstep; it feels like confirmation of a deep-seated fear of not being good enough. The "I am a total failure" conclusion is a defense mechanism—a way to land on a solid (albeit painful) certainty rather than remain in the terrifying limbo of "maybe I'm not good enough."
The Impact on Learning and Self-Worth
When this all-or-nothing framework is applied to academics and skills, the consequences are profound.
Paralysing Perfectionism: This isn't the healthy drive to do well. It's a debilitating fear of producing anything flawed. An autistic student might have a brilliant essay in their head but be unable to write a single word for fear it won't be perfect. The blank page is safer than an imperfectly filled one.
Avoidance and Procrastination: If the only acceptable outcome is immediate success, and that feels unlikely, why even start? This can be easily misinterpreted as laziness or defiance. In reality, the student or employee is often frozen by the sheer weight of their own expectations.
Giving Up Prematurely: The first sign of difficulty can trigger the "failure" switch. A math problem that isn't immediately solvable, a guitar chord that buzzes, a line of code that throws an error—these aren't seen as challenges to be overcome. They are seen as proof of incompetence. The motivation evaporates instantly, replaced by shame and frustration.
Diminished Resilience: Resilience is built by navigating setbacks. But if every setback is interpreted as a full-stop failure, there's no opportunity to build that muscle. The individual doesn't learn to bounce back from mistakes; they learn to avoid any situation where mistakes are possible.
Shifting the Perspective: Building a Bridge to the Gray Area
So, what can be done? The goal isn't to "cure" black-and-white thinking—it’s an integral part of a neurotype. The goal is to build tools and strategies that create a bridge to the messy, productive, and ultimately more forgiving "middle ground."
For autistic individuals:
Reframe "Failure" as "Data": You are a scientist in the lab of your own life. An attempt that doesn't work isn't a failure; it's data. "Okay, that method didn't work. I now have more information for my next attempt." This reframes the process as logical and analytical, removing some of the emotional charge.
Break It Down: The concept of "learning a skill" is huge and abstract. Break it into tiny, concrete, achievable steps. Instead of "learn to draw," the goal becomes "draw five straight lines." You can achieve that perfectly. Each small, "perfect" success builds momentum and confidence.
Embrace the "First Draft" Concept: Give yourself permission for a "sloppy copy" or a "Version 1.0." Its entire purpose is to be imperfect. This lowers the stakes and makes it possible to just get started.
For parents, educators, and allies:
Praise the Process, Not the Outcome: This is the most crucial shift. Instead of saying, "You got an A, you're so smart!" try, "I saw how you struggled with that problem and kept trying. Your persistence is amazing." This validates the effort, which is always within the person's control, rather than the result, which can feel arbitrary.
Model Healthy Responses to Mistakes: When you make a mistake, say it out loud. "Oops, I added salt instead of sugar. How silly! Oh well, let me try again." This shows that mistakes are normal, survivable, and not a reflection of your worth.
Introduce a Spectrum: Help create the gray area visually. Use a scale of 1-10. "This isn't a 0 or a 10. Where would you put your effort? A 7? That's great! What about the result? A 5? That's a solid pass and a great starting point."
Living in a world of absolutes is both a source of strength—it can drive incredible focus and integrity—and a source of profound pain. By understanding that "I get it right or I am a failure" is not a choice but a cognitive reality, we can approach it with compassion.
We can learn to celebrate the first draft, to honour the courageous effort, and to find the beauty and value in the messy, imperfect, and wonderfully human process of learning.




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