A Lament for Cabinets of Curiosity - an autistic perspective on 'traditional' museums

Museums in the 1990s and earlier were often characterised by a formal, academic, and object-focused approach to display and interpretation. Displays often followed a taxonomic or chronological focus, with artefacts arranged in neat rows and accompanied by detailed, often technical, labels. These displays reflected a curatorial emphasis on classification, provenance, and academic authority. Many museums had a quiet, almost reverential atmosphere, with dim lighting and hushed tones. An interesting article by Kate Hill on the history of museum display cases describes that “The ideal case contained a complete series systematically arranged, was dustproof, and contained clear scientific labels.” To me, this was bliss.

As a child, I adored visiting museums. The Great North Museum (then The Hancock Museum), was a regular weekend destination, a place where I felt at home. I have a distinct memory of a school trip to the Natural History Museum in London, where I discovered the geology gallery and was overjoyed to find rocks and gemstones classified and displayed in orderly rows with their scientific names and chemical compositions. I felt that here was a place for me, a place where my way of viewing the world was celebrated. The emphasis on silence (like being in a library), reading and quiet contemplation, was an escape from the rest of the world that felt loud and chaotic.  

In retrospect, I probably wasn’t a typical child. I was very academic and loved science and learning. I loved collecting rocks. I loved the natural world, being able to look out of the car window and see the shape of the landscape (interlocking spurs! U shaped valleys!). I loved looking at trees and seeing the shapes of their leaves and knowing that this one is an oak, that one is sycamore. The natural world made sense, in a way that the social world did not. As an adult I was diagnosed as autistic. My collecting habits and obsessions with technical details are almost comically cliché – many autistic people have similar ‘special interests.’

These days, many museums now prioritise interactivity, reduced density of scientific text in favour of visual storytelling and participatory learning. Objects are typically no longer displayed in nice orderly collections. This shift is seen as being more inclusive, bringing in a wider audience, and I guess it probably does (though I was interested to see this perspective on the differences between the 1970s and 1990s dinosaur galleries at the NHM, which suggest it isn't just obsessed autistic people who like 'traditional' displays).

I started reflecting on this in response to a post by North East Museums, celebrating that their organisation has the Silver Autism Acceptance Award, and are working towards Gold. It is really encouraging to see museums make an effort to be more welcoming to neurodiverse audiences, but for me, as a child, they already were. It was the shift away from quiet, orderly contemplation to bright lights and interactivity that made museums less accessible for me. The Autism Acceptance Awards focus on things such as provision of noise cancelling headphones, providing sensory bags etc - but for me, these aids are there to help cope with a less than ideal environment. Rather than making the environment 'ideal', if that makes sense.

I still like to visit museums, but noise cancelling headphones are essential (ideally, there would be no noise!), and I can’t spend hours in them, the way I used to as a child. It makes me happy when I travel and come across an old museum that is still very traditional. I know this is all very complex, and museums have to consider a wide range of audience needs, visitor numbers, generating funding etc, so this is not a criticism, rather a lament. Maybe society might grow weary at the increasing dominance of screens, QR codes and mobile technology is our everyday lives, museums might move back towards offering something different, a return to a quiet, screen-free, contemplative environment...?

Alas I have no old photos of the museum, but here is my lovely 1990s dino mug from the NHM!