Shy Radicals: The Antisystemic Politics of the Militant Introvert, 2017, the artist and activist Hamja Ahsan’s satirical book imagining a world in which shy, autistic and introverted people fight back against a mainstream society based around the norms and needs of extroverts, I found myself alternately laughing and nodding in recognition. Coming across as part-manifesto, part-handbook and partly as a fictional series of case studies, I also couldn’t help but cringe sometimes at the way it aligns the experience of introversion with multifarious and intersectional forms of oppression and resistance.

The occasionally clumsy co-option of terminology aside, Ahsan’s work has resonated among certain sections of the art world; most recently, it has been turned into a short film by director Tom Dream. Taking a quasi-documentary approach, Shy Radicals, 2022, foregrounds Ahsan’s real-life campaign against the imprisonment of his brother, Syed Talha (who received an Asperger’s diagnosis in jail), on terrorism-related charges. Juxtaposing Ahsan’s individual experiences with archival footage of collective action, from suffragist and feminist demos to black rights protests and trade union marches, the film presents a case for an organised cultural and political movement of introverted people. Filmed partly at the International Centre of Graphic Arts in Slovenia – where he won the Grand Prize at the 2019 Ljubljana Biennial (Reviews AM429) for the Aspergistan Referendum, which asked visitors to vote on joining a new, breakaway country (72% voted ‘yes’) – Ahsan is portrayed as an unlikely yet articulate spokesperson for a fictional resistance movement.

Depicting the process of building an alternative state, many of the signs and symbols of Aspergistan are recognisable from the book. Among the most visually striking are seashells raised to the ear by comrades wearing uniforms and berets in muted colours (the soothing sound of the seashell is the national anthem), as well as the ‘Shy power salute’, a fist placed in front of the mouth (at the time of writing, numerous artists and other supporters are posting photographs of themselves performing the salute on social media in solidarity with Ahsan, who was banned from the Documenta 15 public programme for a private Facebook post insulting the German chancellor).

The film is imbued with a retro, nostalgic aesthetic, from a performance by Art School Girlfriend, complete with Casio keyboard, and training sessions delivered via overhead projector to a backdrop of dimly lit, wooden-clad interiors that resemble an old-fashioned church hall (of which more later) and the use of what appears to be degraded physical film stock. On first viewing, the film may seem overly reliant on stereotypes and clichés of quiet, sensitive types, who seek solace in nature and deserted beaches, and find a sense of connection in the angsty, politicised lyrics of bands such as Manic Street Preachers and Radiohead (a hushed, piano-based reinterpretation of ‘Creep’, by Arlo Parks, is centre stage, its refrain of ‘I don’t belong here’ lingering over the film).

Yet there is power and humour in the film’s subversion of stereotypes. Body language – an encoded aspect of neurotypical communication with which autistic and neurodivergent people often struggle – is rewritten as a tool for political action: most memorably, participants follow Ahsan in collectively adopting the ‘Rodin pose’, crouched down and deep in thought to mimic Auguste Rodin’s statue The Thinker, 1879–89, with instructions delivered via a robotic voice-over (robot-like, expressionless communication is another cliché of autism).

Following the changes to arts programming and access brought about by the pandemic, and released at a time when both individual artists and groups are drawing attention to the ways in which the art world and its established practices often exclude neurodivergent artists in overt and subtle ways, Shy Radicals now feels highly current. Barriers identified by groups such as Neuk, a collective of neurodivergent Scottish artists, range from an emphasis on self-promotional networking and an overreliance on large-scale public events such as previews to expectations around marketing oneself and one’s work. Highlighting possibilities for change tested partially in response to Covid-19, recent manifestos and recommendations include adopting relaxed previews and slower-paced ways of experiencing work, providing quiet times and spaces, diffusing opportunities more widely and equitably, and greater visibility and representation of neurodiversity in leadership.

Shy Radicals may be largely a work of fiction, but it feels significant that the film was shot primarily in a Quaker establishment: Winchmore Hill Friends Meeting House. Contextualised in this way, the film avoids mere whimsy or utopian imagining, acknowledging the potential for acts of collective reflection to effect social, cultural and political change.

Shy Radicals: The Antisystemic Politics of the Militant Introvert, 2017, the artist and activist Hamja Ahsan’s satirical book imagining a world in which shy, autistic and introverted people fight back against a mainstream society based around the norms and needs of extroverts, I found myself alternately laughing and nodding in recognition. Coming across as part-manifesto, part-handbook and partly as a fictional series of case studies, I also couldn’t help but cringe sometimes at the way it aligns the experience of introversion with multifarious and intersectional forms of oppression and resistance.

The occasionally clumsy co-option of terminology aside, Ahsan’s work has resonated among certain sections of the art world; most recently, it has been turned into a short film by director Tom Dream. Taking a quasi-documentary approach, Shy Radicals, 2022, foregrounds Ahsan’s real-life campaign against the imprisonment of his brother, Syed Talha (who received an Asperger’s diagnosis in jail), on terrorism-related charges. Juxtaposing Ahsan’s individual experiences with archival footage of collective action, from suffragist and feminist demos to black rights protests and trade union marches, the film presents a case for an organised cultural and political movement of introverted people. Filmed partly at the International Centre of Graphic Arts in Slovenia – where he won the Grand Prize at the 2019 Ljubljana Biennial (Reviews AM429) for the Aspergistan Referendum, which asked visitors to vote on joining a new, breakaway country (72% voted ‘yes’) – Ahsan is portrayed as an unlikely yet articulate spokesperson for a fictional resistance movement.

Depicting the process of building an alternative state, many of the signs and symbols of Aspergistan are recognisable from the book. Among the most visually striking are seashells raised to the ear by comrades wearing uniforms and berets in muted colours (the soothing sound of the seashell is the national anthem), as well as the ‘Shy power salute’, a fist placed in front of the mouth (at the time of writing, numerous artists and other supporters are posting photographs of themselves performing the salute on social media in solidarity with Ahsan, who was banned from the Documenta 15 public programme for a private Facebook post insulting the German chancellor).

The film is imbued with a retro, nostalgic aesthetic, from a performance by Art School Girlfriend, complete with Casio keyboard, and training sessions delivered via overhead projector to a backdrop of dimly lit, wooden-clad interiors that resemble an old-fashioned church hall (of which more later) and the use of what appears to be degraded physical film stock. On first viewing, the film may seem overly reliant on stereotypes and clichés of quiet, sensitive types, who seek solace in nature and deserted beaches, and find a sense of connection in the angsty, politicised lyrics of bands such as Manic Street Preachers and Radiohead (a hushed, piano-based reinterpretation of ‘Creep’, by Arlo Parks, is centre stage, its refrain of ‘I don’t belong here’ lingering over the film).

Yet there is power and humour in the film’s subversion of stereotypes. Body language – an encoded aspect of neurotypical communication with which autistic and neurodivergent people often struggle – is rewritten as a tool for political action: most memorably, participants follow Ahsan in collectively adopting the ‘Rodin pose’, crouched down and deep in thought to mimic Auguste Rodin’s statue The Thinker, 1879–89, with instructions delivered via a robotic voice-over (robot-like, expressionless communication is another cliché of autism).

Following the changes to arts programming and access brought about by the pandemic, and released at a time when both individual artists and groups are drawing attention to the ways in which the art world and its established practices often exclude neurodivergent artists in overt and subtle ways, Shy Radicals now feels highly current. Barriers identified by groups such as Neuk, a collective of neurodivergent Scottish artists, range from an emphasis on self-promotional networking and an overreliance on large-scale public events such as previews to expectations around marketing oneself and one’s work. Highlighting possibilities for change tested partially in response to Covid-19, recent manifestos and recommendations include adopting relaxed previews and slower-paced ways of experiencing work, providing quiet times and spaces, diffusing opportunities more widely and equitably, and greater visibility and representation of neurodiversity in leadership.

Shy Radicals may be largely a work of fiction, but it feels significant that the film was shot primarily in a Quaker establishment: Winchmore Hill Friends Meeting House. Contextualised in this way, the film avoids mere whimsy or utopian imagining, acknowledging the potential for acts of collective reflection to effect social, cultural and political change.