“Much-needed reform”

I want to talk about the need for reform and change and improvement and ideally what I’d like to see happen in 2023. “Autism” is not and must not be a dirty word. It is not a shameful thing to be autistic or to have an autistic family member. It is becoming a normal thing to have autistic employees, managers and leaders. Autistic people can be clever and strong and brilliant or complete and total prats. We don’t have superpowers – we are people who have strengths and weaknesses just like all other people. Some of us need round the clock care, and some of us don’t need anything much. If around one to two people in a hundred is autistic, then you know a lot of autistic people. We need to be boring, unremarkable and “meh” if we’re to have true equality. But how to achieve that?

Speak its name!

I would like to start 2023 with the assertion that “autism” is not and must not be a dirty word. It is not a shameful thing to be autistic or to have an autistic family member. It is hopefully becoming a normal thing to have autistic employees and, quite possibly, managers and leaders. Autistic people can be clever and strong and brilliant or complete and total prats, just like anyone else. We don’t have superpowers – we are people who have strengths and weaknesses just like all other people. Some of us need round the clock care, and some of us need holding back from annihilating crass people on Twitter with our wit (Greta, I’m looking at you). Most important of all – we are everywhere. If around 1-2 people in a hundred is autistic, then you know a lot of autistic people. Everyone does. Some people are autistic. I hope to spend this year helping the world get over it.

A language people can understand

On 31 December one is inevitably going to take stock of the year just past. As regards current events in 2022, there’s no way I’m going to attempt to summarise them here. Many things appear to have happened. A very small thing that’s happened this year is that this blog started in August. My idea was to write about my experiences as an autistic professional to spread the message that autistic professionals exist, to demystify autism, hopefully taking some of the fear and stigma out of its image, and to share the things I’ve picked up in my working life that may be helpful to other autistics. It’s been really nice that a lot of people have read these posts and some people have found them useful.

I’m clearly not the first person to write about autism – there are a great many excellent authors out there. I don’t know many who write about management and leadership from the perspective of being autistic, though. The different perspective that gives me is that my whole working life is built around interacting with neurotypical people but from a position of influence. If I’m to be an effective manager I need to be able to adapt to the people I’m trying to lead, as much as expecting them to adapt to me. That means I’ve put a particular amount of emphasis on trying to communicate my autistic experiences in language that will make sense to non-autistic people.

New Year Impending…

The New Year is coming fast and that’s a time for new beginnings and endless possibility, right? You might be thinking that this year you’re resolving to learn a language, write a book, lose a stone, run a marathon, get a new job, or something similarly impressive. “Nothing is impossible!” you may be saying to yourself (or reading on “inspirational” memes that cover some parts of the internet). In contrast I’d like to say: stop. The things that were impossible this year are probably still going to be impossible next year. Yes – you might well do great things, but if you’ve tried to do something over and over again and it hasn’t worked yet, it might be a good idea not to stake your sense of self-worth on doing it this time. I’d like to be really clear at this turn of the year that what you’ve achieved this year doesn’t determine your worth, and what you achieve next year won’t either. Achievement really does NOT equal worth.

“Could you be a bit more normal?”

I wrote last week about working in sprints – I only just realised that that’s an autistic thing. I got lots of feedback on social media from autistic people saying they work in sprints too, but also from people who had tried to explain this to their bosses and been told the kind of thing I put in my first paragraph. “You might get the work done to the agreed timeframe and quality, but I need you to do it steadily over a period of time rather than all in a rush (= a sprint) at the end.”

I can see how a manager might think: “hmmm, employee appears to be doing nothing for two weeks and then gets the work done in a rush on the last day – that’s not good”. And in the case of many people it wouldn’t be – the “doing your homework at 10pm on Sunday night” paradigm isn’t a sign of diligence and high standards. But that’s from the perspective of a neurotypical brain. In the sprint working autistic people seem to do (judging from my own experience and the feedback I’ve received from many others), what is actually happening is that the work is going on subconsciously throughout the period where nothing seems to be happening, and then just crystalises suddenly at the end.

Talking to people IS work

I overthink things and agonise about whether I’m doing enough work or the right kind of work. I also feel intimidated about my autistic brain not really being set up for networking. But putting those two together I’ve come to a realisation that might seem obvious but it was news to me: talking to people is my job. Or at least a lot of it. My autistic brain feels that “work” is “stuff done” such as papers written, emails sent, presentations delivered etc. But actually a large part of work is building up relationships with people in order to have trust to draw on when needed, and in order to find out about things that might be connected to my work. Particularly for me as a leader, making myself approachable and (potentially) having ten consecutive conversations about ten Christmas jumpers/holiday plans/whatever might be the most useful thing I do today.

Working in sprints

What do you do during a working day? Do you do approximately eight hours of work fairly steadily? By which I meant to say, do you achieve roughly the same amount of stuff during each hour? Or do you sit around apparently fidgeting for several hours then have an attack of productivity and get a day’s work done all in one go at very high speed and then go back to apparently doing nothing? I do the latter, and I’m rather embarrassed about it so it’s difficult to write about. But I’m coming to realise that it may be a brain-wiring thing rather than a “being a dysfunctional idle pillock” thing. Incidentally, if you were expecting this blog to be about the kind of Sprints in Agile, well, I’m really sorry, and you may be reading the wrong blog…

That wasn’t the plan!

In a society that celebrates spontaneity, flexibility and trying new things, being autistic can be profoundly uncomfortable. If I’ve planned to do something and I can’t – for whatever reason – I can get profoundly uncomfortable. It’s something about the discomfort of surprise as well as loss of control – and if your life is generally pretty stressful and uncomfortable you may depend on controlling as much as possible in order to cope. I also have a sort of feeling of failure if things change, which I realise is odd. I noticed it this weekend and I’m still working it out.

Achievement does not equal worth

I’ve been writing this blog for a bit over three months now and I’ve had some really kind comments on it. I’ve also recently had a bit of attention because Chris Packham very kindly tweeted that he had liked an interview I did about autism and nature. And I do a fair amount of speaking around the Civil Service about my experiences of being autistic – trying to raise awareness and reach as many autistic colleagues as possible so that they don’t feel so alone. All of which means that I get praise for what I’m achieving, which is all very nice. But I’m feeling a bit uncomfortable about any kind of implication that I’m worth more than people who are not doing these things because I’m totally not, and that’s important.

Autistic conflict resolution

If you get into a row with an autistic person, you’re generally in for the long haul. (Gross generalisation, but if you want to argue about it, the comment function is open and the century is yet young… ) If I feel that something is Wrong with a capital W (and that could be either wrong = incorrect or wrong = immoral) then I am unable to compromise with it. I will worry away at it like a dog at a bone and be unable to let it go. The danger is that a discussion can get into a loop and become a damaging row because the actual point on which I can’t compromise can get packaged up in a million added on issues until it feels like a fight for good against evil. Which is seldom what is actually happening. And then once things HAVE gone wrong, putting them back together can result in some really stressful Difficult Conversations. It’s all deeply uncomfortable.