As an autistic holidaymaker, I know that ‘autism-friendly’ often means the opposite

I recently read a story that left me dismayed and disappointed. Sean Curran and his mum, Carolyn Piro, a PTSD therapist from New Jersey, were celebrating Piro’s 60th birthday with his three siblings on an “autism-friendly” cruise over Christmas last year. Sean, 31, is autistic, while two of his three brothers have mosaic Down syndrome and Fragile X syndrome, respectively.

Piro had initially been reassured by Celebrity Cruises’ advertised “Autism Friendly Cruise Line” status, as she thought this meant the company, which achieved the status in 2015 and is owned by fellow autism-friendly certified cruise line Royal Caribbean, would be prepared and able to support her family. Sean had been on three cruises with Celebrity before.

As a fellow autistic traveller, I know this dance all too well. I spend hours researching if an accommodation or activity provider will be able to meet my access needs before contacting them to confirm that the promises on their website or social media will translate to my actual experience. Even with Celebrity Cruises’ extensive promotion of their services, Piro had made sure to contact them in advance to confirm that her sons would be able to access support for their disabilities.

Yet despite this, Piro’s birthday celebrations ended abruptly. Following a misunderstanding between Sean and a fellow passenger in Mexico, the family were given 90 minutes to collect their belongings and leave the ship.

Sean had been on his way to the ship’s swimming pool when he met a teenage girl who asked him to order her a Long Island iced tea, which he didn’t know contained alcohol, his mum said.

Sean and the girl went to one of the ship’s hot tubs, she added, where he lifted her in the way he’d seen the film character Shrek lift Princess Fiona.

“When [Sean] says, ‘like Shrek picks up Fiona', he’s talking about how a groom would pick up a bride,” his mum later explained to The Independent. “He was horse-playing. He did not make any sexual contact with her.”

“Sean didn’t understand that he did anything wrong. He really didn’t,” she added.

But when the girl’s parents arrived, Piro said security was called, and staff members questioned her son without her present. Sean had repeatedly explained he’s autistic and apologised, Piro shared.

She was also asked by staff if Sean, who lives at home with her, was “high-functioning”, an outdated label rejected by the autistic community for the harmful generalisations and invalidation of support needs it often leads to. Indeed, this is exactly what happened: “I said, ‘Well, that’s a relative term, right?’ Can he make a pizza in the oven? Yes. Does he know how to make change? No. So, can he order a Sprite? Yes. Does he know that a Long Island iced tea has alcohol? No,” Piro explained. Yet, when her son was told to leave the ship, “They said, ‘Who’s going to go with Sean?’ So they knew he couldn’t go by himself.”

Two of her children stayed on the ship, but Piro, Sean and one of his brothers were stranded at an island resort on Christmas Eve and had to make their own way to Florida to meet the family when they docked several days later.

The mishandling of Sean’s situation by Celebrity Cruises staff is a textbook example of what not to do when confronted with an autistic individual in distress. Piro would later find out that there was a disability advocate on board the ship, but this employee was never called in to support her son during questioning.

This incident is sadly not an isolated one but the predictable outcome when companies treat accessibility certifications as marketing tools first and operational commitments second. Celebrity Cruises achieved its autism-friendly designation in 2015, but it appears only staff members who work directly with children have received autism awareness training. Information about any training on the experiences and support needs of autistic adults is glaringly absent.

True neuroinclusion isn’t complicated. It means educating any staff member who interacts with passengers of any age and involving autistic adults when developing policies and training materials. It means creating accountability mechanisms with real consequences should staff fail to implement the support that’s been promised. Without these fundamentals, “autism-friendly” is just branding.

Curran’s experience to me is proof enough that Celebrity Cruises shouldn’t be able to claim it’s an autism-friendly cruise line. The gap between what providers promise and what they actually deliver is what leaves autistic travellers like me more vulnerable, not less, because we’ve been told to trust these certifications.

Royal Caribbean Group, Celebrity’s parent company, said it “concluded we could have been more sensitive to the guests’ needs during debarkation following a review of the incident and will be providing additional training to staff”.

Celebrity Cruises’ failure in this respect doesn’t surprise me. What would surprise me is if they, and every other company using accessibility certifications as a PR opportunity, held themselves accountable to closing that execution gap.

Until then, autistic travellers know the truth: we’re on our own, no matter what the brochure says.

Allie Mason is the author of The Autistic Guide to Adventure (Jessica Kingsley Publishers) and an accessible travel advocate