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Let Me Introduce Myself

Hi! My name is Bill, I'm fifty-five years old, and I have long black curly hair and a mostly-white beard. I live in San Francisco. If you're like me, it helps a lot to remember what people have said if you have an image of them - all of them, not just the face - in your mind first. So with each chapter I've provided a photo. (Note: The photo you see is now five years old, but it will remain here for historical reasons.)

I was born with a condition that makes it difficult for me to recognize faces. There is a small part of the brain that is dedicated to that job, and though it is small, when it comes to recognizing faces, it is very very good. In me, that part doesn't work, making me blind to all but the most familiar of faces. To help you understand this, let me compare it to two conditions you are probably more familiar with.

People who are "tone deaf" are not deaf to tones. They can hear tones, they just can't tell them apart. People who are "color blind" can see things that are in color. They just can't tell colors apart. Similarly, I can see faces. I just can't tell them apart.

The main impact of this is, of course, that I find it much harder to recognize people than most people do. I have my ways, but they are slower and more tedious to use than the face method I lack.
How Bad Is It, To Be Face Blind?

That, of course, will unfold in these pages. But it is a real disability, and its effects on one's life are not trivial. To give you an idea of just how "bad" it is, let me tell you about two things that have happened to me, and one that happened to a face blind friend.

Once around mid-day I met my mother on the sidewalk and did not recognize her. We walked towards each other, and passed within two feet of each other, on a not-too-busy sidewalk in a neighborhood shopping district. The only way I know about this is because she told me about it that night. She was not amused at all by this incident, and she has never forgiven me for it.

Another time I was on a hike with about twenty guys. The group spread out along a trail, and I talked for about half an hour with a guy in blue jeans. We parted, and after about fifteen minutes I began talking to a guy in red shorts. When I started the conversation with the usual introductory questions, he gave me a strange look and said we had just talked before. I denied having ever seen him before, and mentioned not having talked to anyone in red shorts. He said it had gotten warmer and he had ducked into some bushes to change. And then he recited back lots of the stuff we had talked about half an hour before.

And my face blind friend, a man in New York, tells his tale: "Some idiot here at work got mad at me this morning because he stood right next to me on the subway and he says that I ignored him. I gave him an icy stare and said, 'Did you say anything to me? I probably did not recognize you.' He then proceeded to tell me that he was standing right next to me and I ignored him. I told him that I didn't see him and he should have said something. Then he told me that he was right in front of me and what was I, blind? I told him to bugger off if he couldn't be friendly. And I started to tell him that I was face blind, but he had already been such a jerk about the entire thing that I just walked away."

So that's how "bad" it is.