Practical ideas for neurodivergent inclusion at work

"My door is always open." It's one of the most common things a leader can say. It's meant to signal approachability, trust, no barriers to access. And for a lot of people, it works exactly as intended. But an open door doesn't automatically mean everyone feels able to walk through it. For some employees, it's a genuine obstacle, and most leaders have no idea it's happening. The assumption behind it The logic feels sound: if I'm available, people will come to me. Accessibility

We tell leaders to give more feedback. Check in more. Coach in the moment. Don't let things go unsaid. And mostly, that's good advice. But somewhere along the way, we stopped questioning whether more feedback was always better feedback. And that's where it starts to break down. The assumption Frequent check-ins feel like support. If you're commenting often, correcting quickly, and recognising progress promptly, you're engaged. You're present. You care. Most leadership advice

Leadership models aren't neutral. They've been built around one cognitive style and we've mistaken that for leadership itself. Most organisations have a picture of what a "strong leader" looks like. Quick on their feet in a meeting. Comfortable thinking out loud. Confident making small talk before getting to the agenda. Able to read a room and adjust in real time. That picture isn't neutral. It's a cognitive style, and it's been quietly written into competency frameworks, pro

A senior leader messages you: "This person keeps missing deadlines, seems disorganised in meetings, and struggles to follow instructions. Is this their neurodivergence, or is it a performance issue? Can I start the PIP process?" It's one of the most common questions we hear from managers, and it's usually the wrong question. Not because it isn't worth asking, but because it's framed as an either/or when the real answer sits somewhere else entirely. The problem with jumping to

A senior leader, we’ll call her Priya, was given the same piece of feedback for two years running: “Be more assertive in meetings.” Her coach had good intentions. Priya was quiet in group settings, slower to jump in, and sometimes responded with a thoughtful “I’ll think about it” when asked for an immediate decision. On paper, it looked like a confidence problem. So the coaching plan focused on confidence. Speak in the first five minutes. Contribute more quickly. Project more

A senior manager comes to coaching frustrated. One of her best analysts has started missing deadlines and going quiet in meetings. Her instinct is to fix it. She schedules a performance conversation, lists the gaps, and offers a plan to "get him back on track." It doesn't work. He gets quieter. The deadlines slip further. This is one of the most common patterns we see in leaders managing neurodivergent employees. The intent is good. The leader wants to help. But the approach