The statistics for autistic adults in employment in the UK are bleak. Despite the similarity in distribution of intelligences on and off the spectrum, a mere 15% of adults with autism are in full time paid employment, compared to around a 75% employment rate for the total population of the UK. This factor of five difference in employability is widely attributed to the difficulties autistic people have, not with work itself, but with the social and political expectations of the workplace. I suspect that executive function and time management / perception issues may also play a role here. But in the socio-political arena, not least of the pitfalls awaiting us is the workplace meeting.
The issue of workplace meetings is huge for me, and much too large to deal with in one post! I’ll make a start here by sketching out the intricate, inconvenient little details that add up to explain why meetings can be such a tricky environment for autistic people – and the equally intricate little workarounds I use to chip away at the problem.
Meetings can be difficult for a variety of reasons. First, verbal dialogue. Some autistics (including me) have difficulty with short term memory, and struggle to hold verbal information in mind. This is a characteristic we share with others in the neurodiverse community, notably dyslexics. In offices with a culture of unstructured meetings, often lacking an agenda or minuted actions, it is easy for us to miss or misunderstand what is going on and what we are required to do.
Secondly, processing speed. The nature of conversation is to flow, sometimes rapidly, from one person and one topic to the next. Many of us on the spectrum need time to assimilate and consider the facts as they come in. Again, particularly in unstructured meetings, I often find my responses or questions arise too late, when the group has moved on to another thing. If I interrupt then, I disrupt the conversation; but if I don’t, I cannot contribute, and decisions are made without me.
Thirdly, when and how to speak. This is an area of immediate risk – for me, at least. It’s well recognised that the natural language of autistics is literal and direct, and that many of us don’t automatically modulate our vocal tone. To speak up quickly and avoid missing what is often the only opportunity – after insufficient processing time and with the anxiety of not completely assimilating the verbal dialogue – is to risk accusations of rudeness, insensitivity or disrespect. But not speaking carries the more insidious risk: of not understanding, not executing the correct actions, and ultimately of losing trust and underperforming professionally. Not forgetting that remaining silent prevents us from making our own, valuable contributions to these conversations.
I decided some time ago to choose the immediate risk of speaking in meetings. Accumulating experience, I began to recognise that my insights and experience could be important, even crucial to success. I’ve come to understand and believe very strongly that everyone on the team has something to contribute toward improving our products and processes; and that by not contributing myself, I would not be fulfilling one of the key responsibilities of my role.
Having said that: on a daily basis, maintaining confidence in meetings is one of the most difficult things I ever have to do. My style of communication is quite direct, honest and upfront, and I don’t hesitate to ask questions if unclear. The combination of being young and relatively intelligent, and of outwardly taking people at face value rather than on reputation, leads certain individuals to interpret this as a personal affront. (I suspect the fact that I am also female only compounds this issue, given the jarring disconnect between the stereotypical submissive young woman and the competent, questioning scientist that I like to project.) There is always the risk, therefore, especially in meetings with particularly well-established or tender egos, that I will be judged on the lack of soft edges in these interactions rather than the content of my message. Having confidence misinterpreted as arrogance and straightforwardness as lack of respect causes the sort of unquantifiable damage that can lead to the end of a career. So there is always pressure, and there is always fear.
There are a few tricks I can use to reduce the risk of workplace meetings. I have an agreement with my manager to get an agenda or “goal statement” in advance of each meeting, to help me follow the changes in topic. If I need to, I can ask for actions to be summarised in writing, at the end of or after the meeting. But it’s rarely enough to deal with the issues of tone and “word choice” – using the straightforward language that comes naturally to me.
I’ve had to accept, reluctantly, that the likely prognosis for any given meeting I’m invited to will be negative. But there are methods I can use to swing those odds back in my favour. In later posts I’ll describe parts of the wider, strategic approach I’m using to navigate the meeting culture in my organisation, and the benefits I’m starting to see in my performance and wellbeing over the longer term.