We have a far better understanding of ADHD. Has the workplace adjusted?
There is more awareness and acceptance of ADHD and neurodivergence than there was even a few years ago.
More adults are being diagnosed later in life.
Often this follows a child’s diagnosis, reaching perimenopause or stumbling across the array of information contained in books, podcasts and social media, which is raising awareness and educating us all.
More people are understanding why things they’ve struggled with for years have been harder for them, and things are starting to fall into place and make sense. This sounds great; however, a diagnosis can bring mixed emotions: grieving for what could have been, alongside the hope that ADHD can then be embraced, and a chance to explore the positives and how to succeed using the uniqueness it can bring.
We now talk more openly about the strengths and challenges of ADHD: the creativity, energy and hyperfocus, alongside masking, executive function, time blindness and working memory. We talk about reasonable accommodations. And yet, for all that awareness, very little has changed in how we work, or in how we choose our work. (Don’t even get me started on education, although schools can be very supportive of those who are neurodiverse.)
From a personal perspective
I am writing this as a female who received a late ADHD diagnosis and felt all the feels. I now understand myself and what I need from a working environment, and I’m fortunate enough to be creating my own. But looking back, I can see how often I felt I was failing, not living up to my potential, overanalyzing what people said, focusing on the negatives (hello Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria) and burning myself out (I could go on and on). I can see how I could have supported myself, and been supported, differently, if only I’d known and it had been commonplace to do so.
And “commonplace” is probably the clincher.
Looking back, I knew something was different. I just didn’t have the words for it. I actually wondered whether it was dyslexia, but knew that didn’t really fit.
How do you ask for support for something you can’t name, and that you’ve spent years assuming is a personal failing? And even if I could have put it into words, I’m not sure I would have.
I wanted to fit in, to please people (a big ADHD trait), to be respected, praised, liked, seen as reliable. I wanted that external recognition to reassure me that, whatever was going on in my head and body, I was doing well.
And on paper, I was.
I consistently received top ratings in my performance reviews (don’t get me started on performance ratings, that’s another post!), I was chosen for promotions, invited to sit on national groups and regularly called on for advice.
I suspect that was due to the very things my brain does well: connecting with people, thinking creatively and seeing the bigger picture. But it came at a cost. I worked extra hard, put in additional hours and relied on a lot of positive self-talk to keep going, until my body told me enough was enough: passing out on trains, coming down with bronchitis, using my PTO days to sleep.
Burnout, long before it was something we talked about at work.
That said, I’ve also managed people and largely expected them to fit into the “good employee” mold. Although, looking back, perhaps I was more flexible, understanding and forgiving when mistakes occurred, knowing that there is usually a fix, and that people (like me) wanted to do a good job.
Having worked in HR/business, I understand and sympathize with other leaders who need their teams to perform and conform, to achieve the results that keep the lights on and the paychecks regular. They may be following orders and toeing the company line themselves, while potentially juggling their own neurodivergence. They need results and a strong-performing team, or they’re the ones under the spotlight.
Let’s zoom out
Think about what we traditionally expect from a “good employee”, whether it’s ourselves or a member of the team.
Be on time. Stay focused. Remember what you're told. Meet deadlines. Prioritize correctly. Finish what you start. Don't interrupt. Don't get distracted or distract others. Stay on topic. Communicate well. Read the room. Follow the process. Be organized. Be consistent. Be reliable. Be positive. Be resilient.
Essentially: work in the way we've decided people “should” work.
Many of these work “norms” were designed for factory floors more than a century ago, from Frederick Taylor’s 1911 search for the “one best way” to do every job, to Henry Ford’s five-day, 40-hour week in 1926. They were built for standardized work and standardized people, and we’ve carried them into offices and onto screens largely unchanged.
Since then, the world has changed A LOT and would now be unrecognizable to Taylor and Ford: legally, economically, politically, environmentally, socially and technologically.
Yet the basic model, set out for factory floors a century ago, has barely changed. Most of the change has been technology layered on top of it.
And many of these outdated expectations collide directly with the areas an ADHD brain can find difficult, if not impossible.
Of course, there is no single “ADHD brain”.
People experience and exhibit ADHD / neurodiversity differently, and context matters enormously. Not everyone suffers with time blindness, and if they do, it may show itself in different ways, some not at all noticeable to others.
I’m in no way implying in what I’m writing that people with ADHD are always late or never finish a task. Many ADHDers will go above and beyond to prove to themselves and others that they can “fit in”, even at great personal cost.
And I strongly believe that AI is a blessing for those who are neurodiverse (again, another post!)
What are we missing while we're looking at the deficits?
There is a tendency to talk about ADHD at work in terms of what someone can't do.
But what about what they can contribute?
Creativity. Curiosity. Different connections/observations. Problem solving. Ideas. Energy. Intense concentration when deeply engaged. An instinct to challenge something that doesn't make sense.
I’m wary of the “ADHD is my superpower” narrative. ADHD can make life and work genuinely difficult, and not every person with ADHD knows or has had the opportunity to fully understand their strengths.
I can’t recommend Dr. Miguel Toribio-Mateas’s book “ADHD Body and Mind” enough. In it he says the following, a sentence that has played over and over in my head:
“ADHD isn’t just a clinical diagnosis. It’s a lived experience, shaped by the ways we navigate the world not shaped for our neurotype.”
Especially for those diagnosed later in life, it says to me that our brains have been shaped in response to how we’ve been treated and how we’ve thought about ourselves throughout our lives. Too lazy. Too stupid. Too slow. Too disruptive. Too unfocused. Too much.
But strengths and difficulties can coexist.
Someone can struggle terribly with detail, but be exceptional at solving a complex problem.
Someone can look like they aren’t focusing in a meeting, but be taking in every word and see a connection nobody else has noticed. (On a recent flight I was watching a movie, vibe coding my website and platform and playing a game on my phone - if that isn’t a skill, what is?!)
Someone can find it almost impossible to begin a mundane task and then spend hours intensely absorbed in something difficult that fascinates them.
Just think: if someone is using a huge amount of their energy trying to demonstrate that they can work like everyone else, what could they achieve if they were playing to their strengths?
There are of course usually two sides
Not every workplace expectation is an outdated convention.
It goes without saying that many things genuinely matter.
Deadlines matter.
Reliability matters.
How we communicate and behave affects other people.
Team members need to be able to depend on each other.
ADHD may help explain why something is difficult, but it doesn't mean our impact on other people disappears or that we can use it as a convenient excuse to act as we want.
I’m also not a total believer in the literal “be yourself / don’t mask” narrative, which has the power to keep us isolated, unemployed and unhappy. As always, there is a decision to make regarding how we want to show up and the work we want to put into this, and there’s always a middle ground.
I don't think neuroinclusion means organizations simply removing expectations every time they are discussing an ADHD/neurodivergent case.
Accommodations are only part of the answer
Legal protections and workplace accommodations matter. Under the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA), they exist to protect people from discrimination and to give them a fair chance to succeed in their roles.
Nobody should be targeted, retaliated against, blamed or made to feel less for asking for help and support.
Equally, requests need to be reasonable, and what’s reasonable depends on the organization. A large company can often accommodate far more easily than a small start-up, and the law recognizes this: employers can decline an accommodation that would cause “undue hardship”, meaning significant difficulty or expense, taking their size and resources into account.
Those of us in leadership and HR also know that physicians, while trying to help their patients, sometimes recommend accommodations that aren’t practical in a particular role. They know the person, but not the job. When that happens, it can backfire: the employee feels they’ve been promised something, and the business can’t deliver it without real cost.
Even when declining a request is justified, how it’s handled matters. A flat “no” can leave resentment, disengagement and awkwardness behind.
That’s why the law expects an “interactive process”: an honest, adult conversation about what the person needs and what the role genuinely requires, aiming for the outcome that works best for the individual, the team and the organization.
Ideally, both parties enter the conversation with open minds, without fear or preconceived outcomes.
We can all show a different side when we feel under threat: of losing our job, status, salary or career, and the impact on the families we’d do anything to protect.
Those with ADHD may also experience Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria (RSD), a term used to describe extreme emotional sensitivity to rejection, and so may interpret the conversation through a different lens than intended.
Resources such as CHADD's guidance on asking for workplace accommodations, and the Job Accommodation Network (JAN), offer practical ideas, from flexible scheduling and breaking work into smaller tasks to organizational support.
Start with the organization, not the diagnosis
If you’ve got this far and are expecting the answer, I’m going to disappoint you. I don’t have it.
BUT, I think maybe it starts with the organizational design and leaders who are open to thinking creatively and trust their teams.
Rather than starting with:
“How do we accommodate this person's ADHD?”
Can we ask a different question:
“How can our organization best support the way all people work to produce the best outcomes?”
If a nurse needs to start a shift at 7am as another's shift finishes, punctuality is an essential requirement of that role. So is being detail-conscious, organized and resilient. These are non-negotiables. People’s lives literally depend on it.
The conversation then may be about what structures and strategies might help someone reliably meet that requirement, or whether the individual is best suited to that position or industry. A nurse doesn’t have to work in a hospital; there are many other opportunities to use these skills in other environments where the systems may be more appropriate.
However, if someone who’s in an office-based role must be sitting at their desk at 9am because everyone has always started at 9am, perhaps it's reasonable to ask what outcome that rule is achieving.
If it’s because clients come to the office from 9am and need to meet in person, then it’s a necessity, at least for some.
I’m also a big believer that there is no replacement for meeting and collaborating in person; however, there are many ways to achieve this.
What COVID taught us
COVID proved that we can think more flexibly when necessary.
And the research largely supports that some flexibility is advantageous to all.
A large randomized trial published in Nature found that employees working from home two days a week were just as productive and just as likely to be promoted as those in the office full time, and were a third less likely to quit.
The US Bureau of Labor Statistics also found that industries with bigger increases in remote work tended to see stronger productivity growth.
One study of more than 10,000 IT professionals found that output held steady during lockdown, but people reported working around 30% longer to achieve it, largely due to additional meetings (as people couldn’t interact informally in person), less support, fewer chances to ask “informal quick questions” and less time for focused work due to home distractions.
And let’s not forget those in studio apartments, who were quite literally living and working in one room, with many blending home and work in an unhealthy way.
All that said, we were doing this in a unique environment, where we often couldn’t work outside the home. People found a way to deliver, often at a personal cost.
But the environment is very different now, with many of the constraints being removed. We can work outside the home, kids are back at school, and we don’t have that uncertainty and fear.
The return-to-office question
That said, many organizations are now bringing people back into the office, often without being clear about what that requirement is actually for.
And the evidence that this works is thin. A University of Pittsburgh study of S&P 500 companies found that return-to-office mandates brought no measurable improvement in financial performance, but did reduce employee job satisfaction. Some mandates may not be about the office at all: in a BambooHR survey of more than 1,500 US managers, a quarter of executives admitted they hoped the policy would encourage some people to quit.
Maybe they’re paying a lot for their office space and want to make use of it, but I think there is a big trust element involved too.
Designing flexibility for everyone also avoids singling people out. I’ve seen well-intentioned special treatment for one person backfire dramatically, breeding resentment in the team and leaving the individual more isolated than before.
Are we measuring the outcome against what is required, or someone’s ability to conform to the way we've traditionally worked?
There's responsibility on the individual too
I say this as a professional with ADHD.
I don’t believe that the responsibility to accommodate someone in their role sits purely with employers - regardless of legislation. (I’m not saying don’t abide by the law!).
I’m a staunch believer that WE all own and manage our careers. We are our own CEO. Our own brand. For years I’ve believed in educating employees about any performance / career management processes as much as educating the managers and leaders.
Now, more than at any other time I can remember, we need to be safeguarding our careers and jobs to ensure financial security for ourselves and our loved ones.
We have more control over our lives and careers than we probably realize, and we need to start understanding what that means in our ever-changing world.
Understanding your brain gives you agency as well as explanation.
It means understanding where you struggle and developing strategies.
Recognizing your impact on other people.
Understanding what you need from a manager.
Knowing when you need structure and when you need autonomy.
Learning which environments bring out the best—and worst—in you.
And perhaps asking a much bigger question:
Have I chosen work that actually fits me?
For someone diagnosed later in life, this can be a completely new way of thinking.
We may have chosen our career based on what we were good at academically. What our parents thought was sensible. What paid well. What had status. What opportunity appeared. What was seen as a “stable and safe” job. Or simply what we thought we were supposed to do.
Then, if you’re diagnosed at 35, 45 or 55, you suddenly have a completely different lens through which to look at your career.
This is true for everyone, too: as life and the world change, what fitted at 25 may no longer be right later on.
And here’s the thing: I don’t believe the truly “safe” career exists anymore.
Having no “safe” career can feel both terrifying and liberating.
If there’s no longer a safe option, doesn’t that open the door to what we may once have dismissed as reckless, the path that actually matches our passion and skills?
Not necessarily overnight, and not without some effort, a lot of guts, exploration, work and a plan. But deliberately, to make our future life more fitting.
Maybe the answer isn't a complete career makeover.
Maybe it’s a different manager. A different role. A smaller company. A bigger company. More structure. Less structure. More autonomy. More people. Fewer people. More creativity. More urgency. A different industry. To work for yourself.
We can't expect every job to reshape itself around us. But we can become much more intentional about identifying and choosing what’s right for us.
Perhaps both sides need to rethink work
For individuals, I think there are four questions, which you may need exploration and support to answer:
Understand yourself.
How does your brain work? Where do you thrive? Where do you struggle? What gives you energy? What drains it?Choose your work.
What combination of role, industry, environment, culture, manager and working pattern allows you to use more of your strengths?Shape your work.
What can you structure, negotiate, automate, delegate, change or formally request as an accommodation?Own your impact.
What genuinely matters to other people and the organization—and what strategies do you need to meet those responsibilities?
And workplaces have questions to answer too.
What genuinely needs to be standardized?
Can the organization be designed differently?
What could be flexible?
Are we managing outcomes or behaviors?
Are our managers equipped to have these conversations?
Could jobs be designed differently?
What are we missing out on if we don’t have a truly “inclusive workforce”?
And perhaps most importantly:
Are we hiring and rewarding people for the contribution we need or for how closely they resemble our historical picture of a “good employee”?
Better work for everyone
There’s already evidence that ADHD is associated with poorer occupational outcomes, including unemployment, income and workplace performance.
Yet a systematic review examining 143 ADHD intervention studies found that just four made work outcomes the primary focus.
We know there is a problem.
But there is a lot of work to do on the solution.
Because this isn't simply about making work easier for people with ADHD.
It's about creating the conditions in which different brains can contribute their best work, while remaining accountable for what genuinely matters.
And perhaps, in doing that, we don't just create better workplaces for people with ADHD.
We create better workplaces.
For all.
Resources:
For employees
Job Accommodation Network (JAN): ADHD accommodation ideas and free, confidential advice
For employers
Job Accommodation Network (JAN): Free, confidential guidance on accommodations and the ADA
US Department of Labor: Neurodiversity at work, including EARN’s Neurodiversity in the Workplace Toolkit
If this resonated and you’d like to talk about how ADHD is showing up in your work or your team, book a free 30-minute conversation.
