Five reasons how being autistic helps me as a content designer
Before becoming a content designer, I would spend most of my days at work feeling like an alien.
My mission was to unknowingly bemuse my new earthling colleagues by the office kitchenette and confuse myself with how I could not do the same tasks they did effortlessly.
Every day felt like I was playing multiple games of chess against 15 people, back-to-back, with no breaks. Any attempt I made to understand the social structure of the workplace resulted in me losing pieces at every turn. Small talk, eye contact, and other social cues knocked me out first round. Meanwhile, my opponents had all been playing together for years, knew a secret set of rules, and had Queens for Pawns.
My confusion soon became to disconnect, resulting in a varied job history as I desperately tried to find anything I could do anywhere I could fit in.
Some of my camouflage attempts included working as:
- A visual merchandiser who had more in common with the mannequins (loved the folding, though)
- A receptionist who ignored phone calls and hid in the stationery cupboard
- An admin assistant who was more concerned about changing the office floor plan once a fortnight than assisting with any actual admin
It was exhausting for everyone involved.
It wasn’t until I was diagnosed as autistic in November 2022 that the disconnected difference started to make sense. Eventually, I saw a pattern in my skills and experiences, leading me to user-centred design (UCD) and content design.
Before I begin
There are a few things I need to say before I start.
Autism is a spectrum disorder. Another autistic person’s experience in content design, UCD, and the workplace, can and will differ from mine. Both are equally valid. In fact, the Office for National Statistics (ONS) has published data that shows just 22% of autistic adults are in any kind of employment. Nobody can ignore this.
I do not intend to gloss over the barriers autistic people face in finding and keeping work, including mine. Many of the skills I will discuss are not always positive in my life, but I am trying to identify when they are.
Also, I am not implying that allistic designers do not have these skills or that I am better than them. Instead, I am highlighting how my autistic experience has shaped my approach to content design.
With that said, here are my five reasons how being autistic helps me as a content designer.
1. I am quiet
The one consistent piece of feedback I’ve had from friends, teachers, and colleagues is:
“You’re very quiet.”
Depending on the situation or person, they mean it as a concern or criticism. So, you might think it’s odd for me to lead with it as a skill.
However, being quiet is my skill when it comes to content design. When I am quiet, I am listening and learning.
I am listening to my users explain how fed up they are with a form, a website, or a transaction. I don’t interrupt or lead them down a conversation path with any bias I might have. I want to hear everything they have to say, unfiltered or edited. This comes in very handy when I work with user researchers because I can support their work in a way that comes naturally to me.
I’ve quietly learnt their language and how they communicate. That means I can ask them the right questions using their words.
Then, I can start designing content that feels natural and intuitive to them.
2. I am (too) empathetic
You may have seen stereotypical portrayals of autistic people lacking empathy. However, this is not true for every autistic, and certainly not for me.
I’m hyper-aware of changes to other people’s facial expressions, body language, tone of voice, and vocabulary. Unknowingly, I can start to mirror them and their emotions like a mask.
Although this can be, and often is, overwhelming, I’m slowly learning to manage it. Carefully, I can recognise its positive impact on my content design.
I can pick up on subtle mood shifts in user interviews, especially if the participant is annoyed or frustrated with their experiences. On the other hand, I can feel their relief when they see a change during a usability test that would make one moment of their lives less of an admin nightmare.
I can vividly remember these mirrored feelings as I design. I just have to remember to take the mask off at the end of the day.
3. I love to organise
My autistic brain loves organisation and structure. But one thing I learnt very early on about content design is just how messy it can be.
If you start midway through a project as a content designer, it can go one of two ways. You will either inherit:
- an online whiteboard littered with hundreds of screenshots and thousands of multi-coloured post-it notes, or
- absolutely nothing
Neither is ideal, but I especially fear those confetti-style whiteboards. In the past, I have spent countless sprints skating endlessly around Mural boards and piecing together someone else’s chaos.
It never works.
However, after staring into the void for a few minutes and contemplating my life choices, I know I can fix it.
I audit the entire content of my project in a spreadsheet. I categorise each piece of content as body text, links, labels, hint text, title tags, error messages and beyond. I filter these tags and check for consistency and plain English across all my headings simultaneously. I document when and why I changed the content and archive the old content separately to keep a clear and accessible version history.
I am fully aware that this could be another designer’s nightmare. But for me, adding this structure gives me more control and makes me calm. And when my autistic brain is calm, I can design better content for my users.
4. I think a lot
I’m cheating a bit with this one, but along with being autistic, I also have ADHD. It’s a confusing mix that can make deciding what to order from a brunch menu feel like I’ve entered hostile negotiations with the enemy (myself).
It does make for some quick and creative problem-solving, though.
At any given time, my brain will be cycling through design solutions like this:
“They can’t use the design? No problem. Let me change the headings. They hate it? Fine, let’s add a new component. That didn’t work, either? Let’s scrap the page and start again with some new body content and remove that awful component. Still nothing? What about this…”
If left unchecked, this could go on for days.
Should all the ideas be coded and tested? No, not a good use of time.
Should I make low-fi prototypes and use my organisational thinking to assess the pros and cons of each of them in some battle royale scenario on Mural board? Absolutely.
5. I have a special interest in accessibility
I must talk about one of my special interests now. Bear with me.
I am incredibly passionate and enthusiastic about accessibility. I know how frustrating it is when inaccessible design prevents me from using a product or service.
What drew me to content design was an opportunity to influence and design accessible products from the start so others would not struggle in the ways I have. From there, I just kept learning more and more.
I use assistive technology in everyday life, like screen readers, overlays, voice commands, and text-to-speech. I can design and test products with my experience and software to audit designs from the beginning.
I am known to my UCD colleagues for being enthusiastic about this topic. I talk about accessibility during project and product developments to avoid the subject being overlooked. I am fortunate to use my enthusiasm as a skill to help as many people as I can.
One last thought
These are just five reasons I’ve recognised how being autistic has helped me as a content designer. There will be many more to discover and accept as I learn more about myself and develop my career.
For me, a late diagnosis has been incredibly validating. But I cannot deny there is a mournfulness when I remember my younger self pin-balling around jobs feeling isolated and left behind.
But now, with a better understanding of how my autistic brain can succeed, I can reframe that difference as meaningful and valuable. I think that’s a pretty good skill for content designers to have.
