Skip to main content

The employment gap

Here's a link:

http://www.autism.org.uk/get-involved/media-centre/news/2016-10-27-employment-gap.aspx

Think a moment about the stat. 16% of autistic adults in full-time work. Sixteen percent. That is desperate and shameful - and it doesn't even consider how many of those lucky sixteen percent are able to fulfil their potential and develop their career. Another link:

https://www.wearethecity.com/nine-ten-uk-companies-not-considering-neurodiverse-candidates/


If only 10% of workplaces make accommodation for neurodiversity, that inarguably presents an obstacle to autistic and other neurodiverse people, it will contribute to the employment gap, and any proposals to address the problem should be both welcomed and encouraged

However, it only gets us so far. Before adjustments can be made to help an autistic person in the workplace, they have to be in the workplace. Granted, very few people enjoy interviews and assessment centres, whether neurotypical or not - but for autistic candidates, it's another matter entirely: put simply, it would be difficult to create a process which more severely limits an autistic candidate's chances than the standard interview system.


Unfamiliar surroundings. Unfamiliar people. Vague, open-ended questions. Being judged on your ability to talk about yourself - even to lie about yourself - with confidence and in terms that others will understand. The expectation of eye contact and correct body language. Selling yourself. These are extremely challenging concepts for autistic people. And in all likelihood, it has absolutely nothing to do with the individual's capacity to do the job and to contribute to the organisation. I'd even go so far as to call it discriminatory: an obstacle is created, however benign the intentions may be, that actively makes it less likely that an autistic person will be hired.

Autistic people have so much to offer in the workplace. Not only are we able to develop a wide range of skills just like anyone else, but our distinct patterns of thinking actually make us better at some jobs. Why would any business not want that? Why would any business choose to dissuade a candidate who can make a real contribution in the role?

I don't really believe that many employers are deliberately shunning autistic people. Rather, it's a failure to understand, and an unwillingness to challenge an established method. That awful figure, 84% unemployed or underemployed, will not improve unless autistic people have access to opportunities without being excluded by a narrow hiring process. Key to this is judging an individual by their abilities: give the candidate a chance to show what they can do with a piece of work, in an environment that they find reasonably comfortable; if appropriate, invite candidates to produce a portfolio showing what they've done in the past (but be clear about exactly what should be in the portfolio); take the time to speak to referees, rather than sending out a generic form; do not judge - and please make clear that you're not judging - the candidate for a lack of eye contact or fidgety behaviours; and ensure that any questions are concise and specific.


And finally, just be nice. Autistic people don't need to be wrapped in cotton wool (this is something I'll address in a future post), and we won't be a burden, but we live in a world which is rarely supportive or considerate of our needs. A bit of friendly reassurance never goes amiss.


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Loneliness, suicidal ideation, and why some of us don't have a loved one to cling onto

I've thought about writing this for a while now.  It's not strictly about autism, although it is related. Lots of autistic people are lonely, want company, but either lack the social skills or society lacks the skills for socialising with autistics (I'm increasingly leaning towards the latter, but that's another post for another day). But that said, a lot of autistic people are lonely because a lot of people are lonely. It can and does hit anyone.   But the loneliness, it's invisible. Many mental health matters have been, still are - including autism - and many people are doing fantastic work to bring them into the light. Loneliness, however, is different. Loneliness makes itself invisible. Loneliness is out of sight and of mind for those not suffering. Loneliness hides in plain sight and loneliness hides in dark corners. Loneliness inherently, inescapably, makes it hard for those affected to talk to those who aren't, to find support, to find a way out. Lonel...

Red, gold and blue

You're an explorer! An explorer from way back, in the days when Europeans knew little of the wider world, and set sail for who-knows-what. You spend days, weeks, nothing to see but the endless sea, and then- ho! As I believe such explorers used to explain. Ho! Land ahoy! And all that. Suddenly, your empty world is now full of this land, your thoughts now devoted to a place that, until a moment ago, you didn't know existed. A bit of the map gets coloured in. The point of this rambling is that, for the first eighteen months after my diagnosis, I looked out and I saw the endless sea. What I didn't see were other autistic adults, only parents speaking for autistic children (or parents speaking for themselves, in many cases). I felt alone, out there in the broad and unbroken ocean. Until, a few weeks back, I found my New World, the #ActuallyAutistic community on social media. (I have no plans to conquer it and kill the indigenous inhabitants, though.) This community is a very ...

I've not been able to write much lately

Hello. I know I've not added anything to this blog in a while. It's not been by choice. My brain has, for want of a better term, collapsed. The best I can do is to get out of bed at some point during the day, to eat, to breathe, to hydrate. Work - and some other daily life stresses, including my parents' health, but primarily work - has completely overwhelmed me. I can't do it any more; for one thing, there's been far too much of it, I've been covering three jobs for six months now, but there's also the strain of being in a work environment, the sensory overload, the masking, the unpredictability. What has been exhausting before has now become highly debilitating. My life has just... well, it's broken. I can't do anything. That, in itself, is saddening (I love to walk and to cook, and these have been taken from me of late), and being all sad and woe-is-me about that just serves to pile on to the underlying problem. Underlying problem being: autist...