When I tell people The Good Doctor is one of my all-time favourite shows, they sometimes assume it’s because I work in the TV industry. But honestly? It has nothing to do with that. It’s because Freddie Highmore — who not only plays Dr. Shaun Murphy but also writes and produces the show — has done something I genuinely didn’t think mainstream television was capable of. He’s made the world sit up, pay attention, and feel something real about autism.
And as the mum of two autistic boys, that means everything to me.
When we first meet Shaun, he’s a surgical resident who happens to be autistic and has savant syndrome. And yes, before anyone says it — I know that not every autistic person is a savant. I know that Shaun’s experience doesn’t represent every experience on the spectrum. But here’s the thing: neither does any single autistic person. That’s literally the point of the spectrum. And what the show does brilliantly is use Shaun’s specific experience as a doorway — an invitation to understand that autism isn’t one thing, isn’t one look, isn’t one story.
What gets me most is how the show refuses to let Shaun be just one thing.
He’s brilliant — yes. His mind works in this extraordinary visual way, and the show brings that to life in a way that’s genuinely stunning to watch. But he’s also funny, and vulnerable, and sometimes he gets things completely wrong, and sometimes he’s the only one in the room who gets things completely right. He falls in love. He gets his heart broken. He navigates friendships that don’t always come easily. He grows. He makes mistakes and learns from them.
He’s a full human being. And that — in itself — is radical.
Because for such a long time, autistic characters on screen were props. They existed to show how hard life was for the people around them, or to pull off some dramatic, almost magical feat that left audiences gasping. Think Rain Man. Think Mercury Rising. Think of almost every autistic character you’ve ever seen in a film or TV show before this one. They were rarely given an interior life. Rarely allowed to want things, or grieve things, or be wrong about things.
Shaun gets all of that. And the writing gives it to him with such care.
One of the things I find myself thinking about a lot — especially as a mum — is how the show handles the people around Shaun. Because it would have been very easy to write his colleagues as either saintly supporters or ignorant villains. Instead, they’re somewhere in the middle, which is far more honest. Some of them get it wrong at first. Some of them make assumptions. Some of them are brilliant allies from the start. But the thing is — they learn. And that learning feels earned, not rushed.
Dr. Glassman’s relationship with Shaun is one of the most beautifully written things I’ve seen on television. It’s complicated and warm and frustrating and loving all at once. It reminds me a little of some of the relationships in my own boys’ lives — the people who really show up, who don’t always say the right thing but who never, ever give up. Those people are worth their weight in gold.
I also want to take a moment to just… applaud Freddie Highmore. Because what he has done with this role, and with this show, is not small. He did the research. He consulted with autistic people. He approached the character with a level of respect and nuance that is genuinely rare. And the result is a portrayal that so many autistic people — and their families — have said made them feel seen for the first time.
That’s not nothing. That’s enormous.
My boys have watched some of The Good Doctor with me. And there’s something quietly powerful about sitting next to your autistic child and watching a character on screen who thinks differently, who communicates differently, who experiences the world differently — and seeing that character be the hero. Not the person who needs saving. Not the cautionary tale. The hero.
If you haven’t watched it — please do. Not just because it’s a brilliant show (which it is), but because it will change the way you look at people. It will make you a little more patient, a little more curious, a little less quick to judge someone for not making eye contact or saying the “wrong” thing or reacting in a way you didn’t expect.
Different doesn’t mean less. It never did.
Freddie Highmore and the writers of The Good Doctor just made sure a few million more people finally understand that.
