When famous and powerful people open up about their autism experiences, it often gets attention. One example is Bill Gates sharing an excerpt from his upcoming memoir, Source Code: My Beginnings. In it, he writes that “if I were growing up today, I probably would be diagnosed on the autism spectrum.” But although this caused some struggles, he also notes: “I wouldn’t trade the brain I was given for anything.”
For many in the autistic community, this visibility can feel like a win. Seeing a successful person identifying as autistic can inspire hope and serve as a reminder: An autistic brain is not something to be ashamed of. In fact, there is much to celebrate.
But these high-profile disclosures also bring mixed feelings. Along with the celebration comes a concern about autism and success narratives, who benefits from them, and who is harmed by them.
The ‘Autistic Genius’ Stereotype and the Superpower Narrative
Popular narratives often frame autistic people in extreme ways. We are either geniuses (albeit often misunderstood) destined to revolutionize industries, or tragic figures, defined solely by our struggles. When someone influential comes out as autistic, the story often focuses on their “unstoppable neurodivergent brilliance”—their extraordinary talents, creative thinking, “superhuman” persistence, or unique approach to problem-solving. It feeds into the neurodivergent superpowers narrative. This might seem like a major improvement over the “broken and deficient” stereotypes, yet it can also be a trap.
Innovative talents and the humans who exhibit them are worth celebrating. Yet a powerful mental image of “a genius” risks obscuring the broader, more nuanced picture of autistic experiences, and creating stereotypes that might be positive—yet still have negative effects on other autistic people.
Research indicates that once we categorize something, cognitive schemas and stereotypes guide our memory and perceptions. This means we are “stuck” in the oversimplification. Challenging and broadening narratives—in this case, understanding the wide range of autistic experiences—becomes difficult.
One of the more obvious consequences of the “tech genius” stereotype is pushing people toward tech careers that may or may not align with their calling, while restricting opportunities in fields that don’t align with that stereotype. Another problem with the fascination with “autistic genius” is the risk of perpetuating the perception that autistic people’s value is conditional on having extraordinary abilities.
It reinforces a hierarchy of worth, where only the most “useful” or “exceptional” are deemed valuable. For many autistic people, this narrative creates an implicit expectation to keep proving our value—a burden that can exacerbate feelings of inadequacy and exclusion or result in a burnout. The risk of burnout also stems from the expectation that autistic people “deliver” above and beyond in environments where we lack support.
Moreover, “wealthy genius” narratives can obscure the disproportionate economic challenges faced by the majority of autistic people. Policies and programs focused solely on “tapping into autistic potential” may miss the mark when it comes to meeting foundational needs like housing, transportation, or healthcare, and protection from blatant workplace discrimination.
Everyday Realities of Working While Autistic
In his writing, Gates acknowledges both his luck and his privilege. And I am happy to celebrate his story. But there are so many other stories. Untold, and unheard.
Most autistic people face complex and painful challenges in their careers and in their lives. In addition to extremely high unemployment, even those who work are held back by poverty, inaccessible environments, and the lack of understanding from their employers.
Their stories are far less glamorous, but they’re just as important. They reflect the lives of the majority of autistic people—the ones who don’t make headlines.
Here are a few stories from my book, The Canary Code: A Guide to Neurodiversity, Dignity, and Intersectional Belonging at Work, to provide a broader perspective on the autistic experience at work. In that experience, ability and high performance are often not enough.
- Working as a HR systems analyst in the U.K., Charlie Hart often received positive feedback about her productivity (“eats workload for breakfast”) and the quality of her work (“meticulous attention to detail”), yet she never got anything above “achieved” in her performance reviews. She was striving for the “exceed expectations” rating though, and asked the HR director what she needed to do to get it. Well, she needed to be a different person. Charlie was assigned to an interpersonal skills coaching, which was de facto a neurodivergent masking and “passing for a neurotypical” coaching—exacerbating years of trauma and pushing her into depression for months.
- Burnett Grant, a highly experienced Black, autistic lab technician from the U.S., was advised by their supervisor “to get on disability benefits and clean houses for extra money under the table.” Burnett was a high performer and didn’t ask for advice, which leaves little explanation for this unsolicited guidance other than stereotyping.
- Dr. Jacqui Wilmshurst from Beverley, U.K., is a health and environmental psychologist. After she was diagnosed as an adult, she disclosed her neurodivergence to her new manager. She was immediately sent on a mandatory occupational health referral to reassess her ability to do the job. That was the job for which she had been through 11 interviews—after being recruited by the employer in the first place, for her unusual thinking and innovative approach. After disclosure, Jacqui’s manager said they needed a “playbook” to manage Jacqui, and only a doctor could provide that. Jacqui ended up resigning.
- Justin Donne worked in the U.K. and France for governmental organizations, private companies, and many boards. He was also seen as “too much” and told to slow down. In one of his roles, Justin broke organizational records for KPIs, facilitated fundraising windfalls, and developed award-winning programs. Then, he was placed under a micromanager who wanted to control everything Justin did and how he did it. That was the end of Justin’s career with that organization.
These stories may not be glamorous, but they’re important. They reflect the experiences of the majority of autistic talent—the ones who are too often left out of workplace conversations or considerations. Canaries in the coal mines whose struggles are signals of broken human resources and management systems.
A Broader Vision of Autistic Talent
Fairness means building unbiased, outcomes-focused work environments. It means supporting all autistic people in developing their talents, extraordinary or not. It means removing the barriers that hold so many back. It means recognizing autistic people’s value as inherent, not commodified.
To move from celebrating the exceptional to creating work environments of ordinary excellence where all autistic people can thrive, where all people can thrive, we need to:
1. Broaden the Narrative: Highlight a range of autistic stories, including those of people who are overlooked, struggling, or simply living ordinary lives. Push back against reductive portrayals of autism as either a “superpower” or a “tragedy.” Autism is a complex human experience, not a marketing slogan.
2. Celebrate Human Value: Celebrate autistic and allistic people for who they are, not for “superpowers.” Everyone deserves dignity, belonging, and the chance to contribute.
3. Remove Barriers: Design fair and flexible workplaces that offer employment and success opportunities for all people, autistic or allistic, regardless of their economic or social standing. Such workplaces benefit all. They help create more stories to celebrate.
When a high-profile person brings a spotlight to autism, it’s an opportunity to celebrate and educate. But it’s also a moment to reflect. Whose stories are centered? Whose stories are ignored? And how can we expand the conversation to ensure fairness and opportunities for all?
The full story of autistic talent is about people—all of us—deserving dignity, respect, and the right support to thrive. Helping everyone develop their talents enriches the workplace and the world far beyond the contributions of any one person, however exceptional.
