Why "Instructional Control" is Harming Your Autistic Students and What to Do Instead

If you've ever felt that nagging sense that something was off during a therapy session, even when you were doing what you were taught was the “right way to do therapy”, you're not alone. 

Maybe you've watched a child shut down after you withheld their favorite toy. Maybe you've seen the light leave their eyes when you positioned yourself between them and the thing they desperately wanted. Or maybe you've felt your own chest tighten as you blocked a child's attempt to grab something from your hands, knowing deep down this power struggle wasn't building connection. Here's what you need to know, that discomfort you're feeling is telling you something important.

In this post, I’m going to talk about a concept called "instructional control". It’s a behaviorist approach that's still being taught and recommended in some circles. I’m going to break down why it's fundamentally incompatible with child-led therapy, neuroaffirming therapy, and authentic communication development. More importantly, I'm going to show you what to do instead.

What is Instructional Control?

Instructional control is a behaviorist concept built on one core assumption: the adult's job is to gain control over access to materials, activities, and reinforcement in order to motivate an autistic child to comply with adult demands. Let me say that another way. The entire framework is designed to make the child dependent on you for access to joy so they'll perform the tasks you want them to do.

The steps usually look something like this:

1. Restrict access to preferred items: lock things away, put toys out of reach, control what the child can access

2. Build "trust" through pairing: become the giver of fun things so the child associates you with positive experiences

3. Use that trust as leverage: once the child likes you, start withholding access unless they comply with your directions

4. Gradually increase demands: require more and more compliance before giving reinforcement

5. Use extinction procedures: withhold attention, eye contact, or comfort when the child doesn't comply

If this sounds manipulative to you, that's because it is.

Why Instructional Control is Not Child-Led (Or Affirming)

I need to be really clear here, control does not stop being control just because someone is smiling while they enforce it. When we rely on instructional control, we're not building relationships. We're conditioning children to perform and there's a massive difference.

Instructional control actually communicates to autistic children that their access to joy depends on me, their interests are leverage I can use to get them to do what I want, their autonomy is negotiable, and following my directions is the fastest (and only) way to get what they need.

This isn't the “connection over compliance” that we preach. This is compliance disguised as connection. And when we teach autistic children from such a young age that their job is to listen to adults and do what they're told, no matter what, we are putting them at risk. We know that neurodivergent individuals already face higher rates of abuse. When we desensitize them to adult control and teach them that compliance is non-negotiable, we're actively making that statistic worse.

One of the first steps in gaining instructional control is something called "pairing." The idea is that you show up, bring all the fun, give the child access to things they love, follow their lead, and then once they trust you, you slowly start pulling that back and requiring compliance. To me, this is a bait and switch. It's teaching a child to trust you under false pretenses.

Real trust doesn't need to be engineered. Real connection doesn't require you to prove your power. Authentic relationships happen when we show a child that we see them, understand them, and respect their autonomy, not when we manipulate them into depending on us.

What Authentic Child-Led Therapy Looks Like Instead

I've built trust with hundreds, maybe thousands, of autistic children in my career. And I've never had to withhold their favorite things to do it. I've never had to position myself as the gatekeeper to fun. I've never had to use a child's joy as leverage. So what did I do instead?

1. I Made Myself a Partner, Not a Controller. I didn't show up to sessions trying to "gain instructional control." I showed up curious about the child. I observed what they loved, what regulated them, what lit them up and I joined them there. I didn't make them earn access to toys. I didn't block them from their interests. I didn't demand they do something for me before they could play. I just… played with them. I modeled language. I followed their lead. And you know what? They trusted me. They engaged with me. They communicated with me authentically.

2. I Got Curious Instead of Controlling. Here's a story I share in the podcast episode: I used to work with a little boy in a preschool classroom. When I'd leave the room, he would run up behind me and hit my backpack. The other adults in the room immediately jumped in, redirecting him, telling him "we don't hit," all the typical responses. But I paused. I got curious.

Why was he doing that? Turns out, he wasn't being aggressive. He loved our sessions so much that he was sad to see me go, and hitting my backpack was his way of getting my attention so he could say goodbye. Once I turned around and said, "Thanks for saying bye! Bye, Miss Nicole. See you tomorrow," his face lit up. He repeated it back to me. And from that day forward, he never hit my backpack again. He just said, "Bye, Miss Nicole. See you tomorrow."

What would have happened if I'd punished him for that? If I'd withheld my attention or isolated him? He would have learned that his attempts to connect with me were wrong. That he was wrong. That's the cost of control-based approaches. We miss the meaning. We misinterpret the child. And we damage trust.

3. I Honored All Communication (Not Just Compliance): In supporting autistic communication, our job is not to get a child to follow directions. Our job is to help them express themselves authentically in whatever way works for them. That might be through gestures, echolalia and scripting, AAC, movement, facial expressions, or protest and refusal (yes, "no" is communication!). When we prioritize compliance, we teach children that their authentic communication doesn't matter. We teach them to perform and not to connect. But when we honor multimodal communication and validate every attempt a child makes to express themselves, we build trust. We build safety. And in that safe space, communication naturally grows.

So what does child-led speech therapy actually look like? Here are some core principles:

Follow the Child's Lead. Let the child show you what they're interested in. Join their play. Model language in their world, and don't demand they enter yours.

Make Communication Low-Pressure. Stop asking test questions. Stop withholding items to force requests. Instead, narrate what's happening. Offer models. Create space for the child to communicate if and when they're ready.

Honor Autonomy. Let the child say no. Let them end activities. Let them make choices about their own body and their own play. Autonomy is not optional, it's essential for building trust and self-advocacy.

Prioritize Regulation. If a child isn't regulated, they can't access their communication skills. Focus on co-regulation strategies and creating a sensory-informed environment before you ever worry about language goals.

Trust the Process. Progress doesn't have to look like 80% accuracy on a drill. Progress is a child initiating. Progress is a child trusting you enough to share a script. Progress is a child feeling safe enough to protest.

That's real communication development.

Why This Matters for School-Based SLPs and Educators

I know many of you work in systems that still expect compliance-based data. You're writing IEP goals for autistic students in environments that don't always support neuroaffirming IEPs or child-led therapy in schools. But you can still show up differently.

You can write goals for autistic students that don't rely on compliance. You can use rubric-based progress monitoring instead of rigid percentages. You can advocate for communication supports in special education that honor the child's authentic voice. And when you do, you're not just helping one child. You're shifting the culture. You're modeling what's possible. You're proving that connection over compliance actually works and isn’t just a catching saying.

You're not alone in questioning these outdated methods. And you're absolutely right to trust your gut. Our autistic students deserve better, and so do you.