The Traitors, James Acaster and the Pressure to Fit In
Published · 12 min read
Why We Need to Talk About Autism, Masking and Being Accepted for Who We Are
The public reaction to James Acaster's appearance on The Celebrity Traitors has opened up a much bigger conversation about neurodiversity, hidden disabilities and the expectations society places on people to behave in a certain way. But perhaps the most important question is this: how often do we judge somebody's behaviour without ever considering what might be happening beneath the surface? Read BBC News
Unless you've managed to avoid social media and television over the last few days, there's a good chance you've come across the discussions surrounding comedian James Acaster and his appearance on BBC's The Celebrity Traitors. What started as a dramatic moment in a reality television competition has quickly developed into a much wider public conversation, with viewers debating his behaviour, questioning his decisions and, in some cases, making some fairly personal comments about him.
It's certainly been one of the most talked-about moments of the series, but for me, there's a much bigger issue sitting underneath all the television drama. James has openly spoken about being autistic, and the reaction to his time on the programme has created an opportunity to talk about something that so many people with hidden disabilities experience every single day: the pressure to behave in a way that society considers acceptable, even when doing so takes an enormous amount of effort. Read The Independent
I don't think this conversation should be about deciding whether James was right or wrong to play the game in the way he did. Viewers are perfectly entitled to have opinions about contestants, their strategies and their decisions. What I do think we should be questioning, however, is how quickly those opinions can turn into judgements about somebody's personality, character and behaviour, particularly when we know that the world can look and feel very different to somebody who experiences it through a neurodivergent lens.
So, what actually happened on The Celebrity Traitors?
For anyone who hasn't been following the latest series, James Acaster entered the castle as a Faithful, a role he appeared much more comfortable with than the alternative. However, when he was recruited to become a Traitor by Maya Jama and Richard E Grant, he found himself in a very different position. Rather than simply investigating who was deceiving the group, he was now expected to deceive the people around him, maintain secrets and actively participate in the psychological game that makes the programme so popular.
As the competition progressed, viewers watched James navigate the increasingly complicated dynamics of the castle, with suspicion beginning to build around him. Eventually, during a particularly tense roundtable, Michael Sheen's questioning brought matters to a head and James revealed that he was indeed a Traitor. He explained that he had never wanted the role and that he had wanted to remain a Faithful. His confession ultimately led to his banishment from the game.
It was a remarkable moment of television, and understandably, people had plenty to say about it. Some viewers felt he had let his fellow Traitors down, while others questioned why he had accepted the role if he wasn't prepared to embrace the deception involved. There were also discussions about the intensity of the questioning, the editing of the episode and reports that filming had been paused when James became distressed.
The subsequent coverage, including comments from fellow contestant James Blunt, has added another dimension to the story, with suggestions that viewers didn't see the full extent of what happened during the roundtable. The BBC has also emphasised that contestant welfare is taken seriously and that support is available throughout filming.
It's worth remembering that we are watching an edited television programme. We see the conversations producers choose to include, the moments selected to create tension and the reactions that make compelling viewing. We don't necessarily see everything that happened behind the scenes, how somebody felt afterwards or what was going through their mind at the time. That doesn't mean viewers cannot question what they see, but it should remind us that we rarely have the complete picture.
When public opinion becomes personal
One of the things that has stood out to me about the reaction to James is just how quickly the discussion has moved beyond his gameplay. Social media has been full of people expressing frustration, criticising his decisions and questioning his attitude towards the competition. Some of that is ordinary reality television commentary, but there has also been a wider conversation about his personality and the way he communicates and responds to situations.
And this is where I think we need to pause.
For somebody who is autistic, navigating complex social situations can involve a very different set of challenges. That doesn't mean every autistic person struggles with deception, confrontation or group dynamics, and it certainly doesn't mean autism explains every decision James made. Autistic people are individuals, with different personalities, strengths, preferences and experiences. However, we cannot ignore the fact that social expectations can be particularly demanding for people whose brains process communication and social information differently.
Think about how much of everyday life revolves around unwritten social rules. We're expected to recognise when somebody is joking, understand sarcasm, interpret facial expressions, know when to speak and when to remain quiet, and respond in ways that other people consider appropriate. Most people don't consciously think about these things, but for somebody who finds social communication challenging, they can require a significant amount of concentration and effort.
When somebody doesn't respond in the expected way, the labels can come quickly. They're described as awkward, blunt, rude, difficult, insensitive or even selfish. What we don't always consider is whether that person is deliberately behaving that way or whether they're simply communicating and responding differently. There is a significant difference between somebody intentionally being unkind and somebody whose natural communication style doesn't match what others expect.
The hidden exhaustion of masking
This brings us to something that deserves far more attention: masking.
Masking is a term commonly used within the autistic community to describe the conscious or unconscious ways in which autistic people hide, suppress or adapt aspects of their natural behaviour to fit into social environments. For some, this might mean forcing eye contact even when it feels uncomfortable, rehearsing conversations before having them or carefully monitoring every word they say because they're worried about being misunderstood. For others, it might involve copying the behaviour of people around them, suppressing stimming, pretending to understand jokes or smiling through situations that are actually causing significant anxiety.
Imagine having to think about how you're sitting, how you're speaking, where you're looking and what expression is on your face, all while trying to follow a conversation and understand what's happening around you. Imagine constantly questioning whether you've said the right thing, whether somebody has interpreted your words incorrectly or whether your natural reaction might make other people uncomfortable. For many autistic people, this isn't an occasional experience; it can be part of navigating everyday life.
The difficult thing about masking is that it can become so ingrained that other people never realise it's happening. Someone might appear confident, sociable and perfectly comfortable in a busy workplace or social environment, when in reality they're using an enormous amount of energy to maintain that appearance. They might get home at the end of the day completely exhausted, needing hours of quiet and recovery time after what everybody else considered a perfectly ordinary interaction.
There is also a real problem with how masking can affect the support people receive. When somebody becomes very good at hiding their difficulties, their needs can go unnoticed. Teachers might assume they're coping because they're quiet and compliant, employers might not recognise the adjustments they need because they appear to manage their workload, and friends might never realise how much effort goes into maintaining social relationships. Just because somebody looks as though they're managing doesn't mean they're not struggling.
Research into autistic camouflaging has highlighted the potential psychological costs of this constant adjustment, including exhaustion, anxiety and difficulties maintaining a sense of identity. For some people, masking has become a way of avoiding bullying, judgement or exclusion, but that doesn't mean it comes without consequences.
What happens when you simply can't keep masking?
I think this is one of the most important parts of the wider conversation. What happens when somebody reaches a point where they no longer have the energy or capacity to keep presenting themselves in the way other people expect?
Perhaps they become quieter, withdraw from a conversation or struggle to explain how they're feeling. Perhaps they become visibly distressed in a situation that other people don't find particularly difficult. Maybe they respond more directly than somebody expects, need to leave an environment or find themselves unable to manage another unexpected change.
For somebody who has spent years trying to keep everything together, these moments can be incredibly difficult. Not only are they potentially dealing with the original situation that has overwhelmed them, but they may also have to deal with the reactions of people around them. Instead of being offered understanding, they can find themselves having to explain why they reacted in a particular way, apologise for their behaviour or defend themselves against accusations that they're being unreasonable.
And this isn't exclusive to autism. People with ADHD, learning disabilities, sensory processing differences, anxiety conditions, neurological conditions and many other hidden disabilities can experience similar pressures. Their needs might not be immediately apparent, but that doesn't make them any less real. Somebody might need additional time to process information, struggle with unexpected changes, find crowded environments overwhelming or have difficulty communicating when they're distressed. These experiences can affect friendships, relationships, education, employment and everyday social interactions.
The problem is that society often judges what it can see without considering what it cannot. We see somebody becoming overwhelmed, but we don't see the build-up of sensory information, anxiety or exhaustion that might have led to that moment. We hear a direct response, but we don't necessarily understand the communication differences behind it. We see somebody leave an event early, without realising that staying any longer might have been genuinely distressing.
And perhaps the most frustrating part is that people are often expected to explain their disability before they're given any understanding. Why should somebody have to disclose a diagnosis, share personal medical information or justify their needs before others are willing to show a little patience?
We need to stop expecting everybody to fit the same mould
I think we've become far too accustomed to expecting people to behave in a particular way, and when somebody doesn't meet those expectations, we can be incredibly quick to judge them. We have created an idea of what socially acceptable behaviour looks like, and people who communicate, process information or respond differently can find themselves constantly trying to fit into that mould.
But why should they have to?
There is no single correct way to communicate, experience emotions or navigate social situations. Some people make eye contact, while others find it uncomfortable. Some people enjoy busy social environments, while others need quieter surroundings. Some people communicate very directly, while others take longer to process conversations and formulate a response. None of those differences should automatically be interpreted as a reflection of someone's intelligence, kindness, capability or character.
We also need to recognise that being able to mask shouldn't be the price of acceptance. A person shouldn't have to suppress their natural behaviours, pretend to understand everything or hide their difficulties simply to make other people more comfortable. Equally, we shouldn't expect someone to disclose their diagnosis before we decide to treat them with respect.
Of course, that doesn't mean nobody can ever disagree with an autistic person or challenge something they've said or done. Being autistic doesn't make somebody immune from criticism, and it doesn't mean every behaviour should automatically be attributed to a disability. But there is a difference between holding somebody accountable for their actions and making assumptions about them because they don't behave in the way we expect.
We can have different opinions and still be compassionate. We can disagree with somebody and still recognise that their experience of the world might be different from our own.
Why finding your community matters so much
This is something that sits right at the heart of what we're trying to build with Buzzbo.
For so many disabled people, neurodivergent individuals and families with additional needs, finding somewhere they genuinely feel comfortable can be a challenge. It can take hours of searching to discover a café that understands sensory needs, an event that offers suitable adjustments or a business where staff are confident supporting people with different communication and accessibility requirements. Sometimes families simply decide not to go out because the uncertainty of how their needs will be received feels too overwhelming.
That lack of belonging can have a much bigger impact than people realise. Community isn't just about having somewhere to go for a coffee or finding an activity to fill an afternoon. It's about connection, friendships, shared experiences and feeling that you are part of something. It's about being able to participate in everyday life without constantly worrying that your disability or additional needs will make you feel different, unwelcome or misunderstood.
At Buzzbo, we believe that everybody should have access to those experiences. That's why we're so passionate about bringing together inclusive businesses, accessible venues, community activities and people who want to make a difference. We want to help individuals and families discover places where their needs are considered, while giving businesses the opportunity to showcase the steps they're taking to make their services and experiences more inclusive.
We also want to encourage a much wider conversation about what accessibility actually means. It isn't simply about ramps, accessible toilets and physical adjustments, although those are incredibly important. It's also about sensory environments, communication, understanding, flexibility and the way people are treated when they walk through your door. Sometimes a quiet space, a little extra time or a staff member who understands that somebody might communicate differently can completely change someone's experience.
Most importantly, we want people to feel that they can be part of their community without having to hide who they are. A genuinely inclusive community doesn't expect everybody to behave in exactly the same way. It recognises differences, makes room for different needs and understands that everybody deserves to feel welcome.
What can we take away from the James Acaster conversation?
The discussion surrounding James and The Celebrity Traitors will eventually move on, as television conversations always do. There will be another series, another contestant and another moment that captures the public's attention. But the experiences of people who feel misunderstood, judged or pressured to mask their disabilities will continue long after the headlines disappear.
I don't think we need to use James as an example of how every autistic person behaves, nor should we assume that his decisions on the programme were necessarily connected to his diagnosis. What we can do is use the public reaction as an opportunity to reflect on our own attitudes. How often do we judge somebody because they communicate differently? How often do we assume somebody is being difficult when they might simply be struggling to navigate a situation? And how much easier would everyday life be if people felt safe enough to be themselves rather than constantly worrying about how others might perceive them?
Perhaps the most important thing we can do is become a little more curious and a little less judgemental. We don't always know what somebody is dealing with, and we certainly don't know how much effort they might be putting into appearing as though everything is fine. A little patience, understanding and willingness to accommodate differences can make an enormous difference to somebody's life.
At Buzzbo, that's the kind of community we want to help create. One where inclusion and diversity aren't simply words used in a mission statement, but something people can genuinely experience when they engage with the world around them. Where businesses recognise that accessibility matters, where families can find places that welcome them and where people with hidden disabilities don't feel that they have to explain or apologise for who they are.
Because ultimately, you shouldn't have to mask to belong. You shouldn't have to hide your differences to be accepted, and you shouldn't have to spend your life trying to meet somebody else's expectations of what being normal looks like.
We all deserve to feel comfortable being ourselves. We all deserve to have a community where we feel understood. And we all deserve to belong.
That's what Buzzbo is about.
