Facilitated means supported.
We facilitate motor learning every day — for children, athletes, drivers, dancers, and stroke survivors. Nobody calls that pseudoscience.
A parent steadies a bicycle saddle until a child's body learns balance. A physical therapist guides a limb through a movement after a stroke until new neural pathways form. A driving instructor uses a passenger-side brake. A piano teacher places her hands over a student's. An ASL interpreter renders a Deaf person's signs into spoken English for an audience.
In every one of these cases, the activity is facilitated — supported by another person — and in every one of these cases, we understand that the underlying agency belongs to the learner. We don't say a child didn't really ride the bike because someone steadied the seat. We don't say the stroke patient didn't really stand up because the therapist's hand was on their elbow. We don't say a Deaf speaker didn't really give a lecture because an interpreter was at the microphone.
So why is "facilitated communication" treated differently?
Largely because of what happened in the 1990s. A method that was introduced too quickly, taught inconsistently, and then tested under conditions that didn't reflect actual practice became the subject of a very public backlash. Position statements were written. Lines were drawn. And the term itself was poisoned in a way that is unusual in disability history.
Meanwhile, the underlying phenomenon — humans learning purposeful movement with the support of another human — never stopped being ordinary. It is the basis of how we teach motor skills in almost every other field. The disagreement is not really about whether motor support works. It is about whether nonspeaking autistic people are the kind of learners for whom motor support is allowed to count.
The civil-rights frame
The Americans with Disabilities Act has, for more than thirty years, required public entities to provide reasonable accommodations and effective communication. The kinds of individualized supports that make text-based communication possible for many nonspeaking people are exactly the kind of accommodation the law was written to protect.
We can keep arguing the definition of "facilitated." Or we can notice that we already have a framework — one with broad public and legal support — for what we are actually doing: helping a person communicate in the way that works for them.