Extraordinary Attorney Woo’s episodes have good and bad autistic representation

Extraordinary Attorney Woo It all starts with an argument. Jung Myung-seok is a Hanbada senior lawyer who objects to the fact that Han Seon-young has appointed an autistic attorney to his staff. Seon-young swiftly admonishes him. It doesn’t matter that she’s autistic, she says; what matters is that she graduated top of her class from Korea’s most prestigious university.

It’s an immediate introduction to An Extraordinary Lawyer Woo at its best and worst: text that highlights Myung-seok’s, and Korea’s, ableism while the subtext reinforces the idea that disabled people’s value is derived from what they can contribute.

Park Eunbin (allistic actress) plays Woo Young-woo. Woo is an autistic savant and lawyer who arrived at Hanbada six months after struggling to find employment. As she applies her remarkable memory and intellect, the series will follow her journey to answer questions that all her autistic peers cannot.

This is An Extraordinary Lawyer WooGood representation is? This is a complex question. After watching the series and speaking to autistic people, autistic organizations and an autistic lawyer, I have come up with the following consensus. Appearance to be yes… and no?

Autism in Korea, context

Image courtesy of Netflix

Although ableism is widespread in the West and Korea, there are significantly more stigmas surrounding autism and disabilities in Korea. In Korea, the predominance of social normalcy has been a longstanding tradition. “There is much more of a sense of shame, not just for individuals with disabilities but also for their families,” says Son Da-eun of Autism Partnership Korea. “Despite the prevalence of autism in Korea” — she tells me Koreans are diagnosed at a rate of 1 in 38, compared to the WHO’s global estimate of 1 in 100 — “you rarely have interactions with persons with autism on a daily basis. Historically, people with autism are kept home, hidden away from the world.”

That’s not to say there is no progress in Korea. The public is gradually becoming more aware of the importance of service providers and accessibility. The COVID-19 attacks on support infrastructure caused some problems. However, it was interesting to see the reactions. An Extraordinary Lawyer Woo it’s clear autism and disability remain intensely stigmatized in Korea — the extent of which becomes apparent when reading how many parents felt forced to emigrate for better support for their autistic children.

Scraping the surface

In that vein, it’s appropriate that the series starts with Young-woo’s difficulty finding work. According to the Employment Development Institute of Korea, only 22% of autistic people in the country are employed — the lowest rate of any demographic, and a proportion is echoed globally.

Hanbada uses the microcosmic lens to highlight the realities of discrimination. An Extraordinary Lawyer Woo excels. Although it doesn’t challenge the reality of these realities, the show often highlights the challenges within. FOder instance, while Young-woo’s ableist colleague Kwon Min-woo is often reprimanded for his efforts to undermine Young-woo, the show never tries to challenge where that ableism is coming from or Hanbada latently encourages it through withholding censure.

Image courtesy of Netflix

This is how you can: An Extraordinary Lawyer WooThis is a great example of what it can be like to live in an (often hostile!) world as someone with autism. “I felt extremely represented,” Haley Moss, an autistic attorney and neurodiversity advocate, tells me. “People typically are very nice to me,” she says. “But a lot of the time they offer me unwanted and unneeded assistance and it ends up looking like special treatment that makes me (and everyone else) sort of uncomfortable.”

So, too, is the show relatable for Stephanie Bethany, an autistic content creator, who felt particular affinity with Young-woo’s mannerisms and story.

“Attorney Woo does finger and hand stims like I do,” she says in an email, “wears her headphones as needed and not 24/7 like I do, gets into a romantic relationship with someone who is not autistic like I have, engages in occasional echolalia and hits her head/ears when things become escalated, threatening, and loud like I do. So, there are many ways that I feel represented by Attorney Woo.”

The ultimately supportive nature of Young-woo’s colleagues has led some to criticize the show for being too fantastical. It’s true many disabled people would be more familiar with Kwon Min-woo, and how his frustration at Young-woo’s accommodations drives him from simply undermining her to actively trying to get her fired. “The resentment around receiving accommodations is SO REAL,” says Dannie Lynn Fountain, an autistic HR specialist, in an email. “This has definitely been part of my lived experience.”

But as Haley tells me, “I want to live in the fantasy where everyone is always accepting and supportive!”

Offering comfort like that, it’s no wonder that An Extraordinary Lawyer WooThe disabled community has found an audience for her work. When we’re so used to being chronically underrepresented, it sometimes feels like, as a community, we’re ready to accept any relatable moment in film and television. Initial viewing was positive for me. An Extraordinary Lawyer WooYoung-woo’s realistic portrayal of discrimination and her support from colleagues are all examples of Young-woo’s vision for growth. But I also wonder if we’re not sometimes guilty of relating to what we want to see.

All the best

Representation isn’t easy, nor is it the only tool for driving change for underrepresented groups in media. It’s unrealistic to expect one character — or even one series — to fully represent the full scope of a disability. Even shows that aim to help others can fail. An Extraordinary Lawyer WooThis is not an exception.

Show creators talk about raising awareness for autism in Korea. There is an undertone of ableism in the show. This can be seen starting with the title, which was modified for Western audiences. The Korean title, 이상한 변호사 우영우, is most accurately translated to Weird Lawyer Woo Youngwoo.

It is possible to understand the purpose of the program: it aims at highlighting a perception of otherness, which may eventually be dispelled by some viewers. It feels more like they are starting from an all-inclusive, ableist place than offering meaningful support to autistic people. That they’ve since introduced a Woo Young-woo NFT collection hasn’t helped make the series seem like it was firmly built on altruistic motivations.

It is an excellent way to overcome the deeply ingrained abilityism that results in titles like Weird Lawyer Woo Youngwoo The idea is to bring in disabled people (which we would also do). Something To combat the shockingly low unemployment rates for autistic and disable people in Korea, and to employ disabled actors to share their experience with their characters.

Moon Ji-won, a writer, reportedly spent one year with a professor of early childhood special education to verify accuracy. While research is great, it’s more important to know how to implement it. And Moon’s characterization of Young-woo as a genius savant, in line with so many stereotypical depictions of autism that refuse to go away, is particularly telling.

“Rain Man is older than me and I still have to talk about it!” Moss says, exasperated. Savant syndrome is an extremely rare, hyper-specific part of the autism spectrum. Savant-like characteristics are found in between 2 and 10% of autistic individuals, according to experts. Young-woo’s description of himself as a prodigious savant, or genius savant, is less than 75 people worldwide.

“The extensive use of savants-like characters and other autistic tropes (e.g., limited interests, difficulty making friends) in television is concerning for two reasons,” Sarah Audley wrote in her 2020 study into autistic representation in television. “The exclusion of authentic autistic representation, and the spread of misinformation about autism that may be perpetuated by the prevalence of autism stereotypes in the entertainment industry.”

It’s depressing, because the diverse realities of disability are intrinsically human stories that deserve more than stereotypical representation, rather than merely molding us into something palatable and misleading for non-disabled viewers. It’s pandering to the sense so many people have that we are defined by work and, as such, disabled people lack value unless they can be productive and contribute. Young-woo is a Hanbada employee because of this. Not who she is, but rather that she can solve problems others can’t.

Da-eun tells me An Extraordinary Lawyer Woo “strips some of the shame and stigmatization” from autism through its humanizing of Young-woo, though she recognizes “the show does reinforce a few common misconceptions about the nature and treatment of autism.”

“The fact that the vast majority of characters with autism in media is portrayed as having a superpower, or that autism is really a blessing in disguise muddies the waters and can confuse the public as to what autism really is.”

Already, the effects of this reinforcement are being felt in Korea. Allistic content creators are imitating Young-woo’s voice patterns and mannerisms for views on TikTok and YouTube, driven by the decision to exaggerate many of Young-woo’s mannerisms that could be considered cute or quirky.

This isn’t new. Lydia Netzer calls it “cute autism,” depictions that strip away behaviors that might be off-putting or obtrusive to create an image as close as possible to neurotypicality in order to “trick us into thinking tolerance is easy.”

Image courtesy of Netflix

Meanwhile, Korean schoolchildren are reportedly insulting each other by asking, “Are you Woo Young-woo?” Autistic content creators field comments expressing disappointment they’re not like Young-woo, while receiving abuse for their criticisms of the series.

In the end, however An Extraordinary Lawyer Woo might be flawed representation, that doesn’t mean there isn’t a possibility for better choices. Tom Purser is the National Autistic Society’s head of volunteering and guidance. He tells me all about the power media has. Can Have for Autism.

“The stories we see on screen must reflect the full diversity of the autIt ism spectrum,” he says. “Many people learn about what life is like for autistic people through films and TV shows. It’s important these depictions of autism are realistic so people really understand the challenges autistic people face, as well as the huge contributions autistic people make to our society.”

We can laud the show’s alleged intent to bring better awareness to autism in a country that intensely stigmatizes it — and with an average nationwide viewership of around 13%, it is It is putting autism front and center for a large number of Koreans. But we must also question the ease with which autism can be transmitted. An Extraordinary Lawyer Woo’s stereotypical depiction of autism and disability is inspiring further narrow-mindedness. That the lesson the show is teaching its allistic, non-disabled target audience is just… more ableism.

Image courtesy of Netflix

Perhaps I’m an optimist, but I do believe some people will watch An Extraordinary Lawyer Woo Start to see autism and disabilities differently.

But the facade is brittle; it’s easy to peel away. Once you do, you understand how much the ableism that pervades Korea — and, let’s get real, that pervades the world — has seeped into the making of An Extraordinary Lawyer Woo. By using stereotypes and making a realistic, palatable story of autism, the show fails to really inform beyond what is required by law or address discrimination. Furthermore, the show robs one of the best disabled characters in media her voice and agency. It’s a drama — it’s entertaining. It has power in that. For some, that’s enough and justified because autism in Korea is treated so badly. But, if things are worse in Korea, shouldn’t we be asking more of representation like this rather than accepting less?

I’m happy for those that relate to the show. I think, on an individual basis, that’s important. But it’s just as vital to remember that this is but one of many very narrow — often identical — windows into autism in media, and that we’re not the monolith shows like “Weird Lawyer Woo Youngwoo” Make us into the people we want to be.