Rethinking Communication: A Reflection from the BILD Conference
For any profession or organisation involved in supporting autistic people, conversations around neurodiversity and the lived realities of neurodivergent people are essential. In my role as a Relationships Director within an organisation providing a range of services to neurodivergent people with a support need, I have noted a growing frequency of these conversations across conferences, policy papers and training sessions in recent years. Unfortunately, increased visibility does not always translate into genuine understanding. Too often, the shape, tone, and focus are still set by systems and structures that operate at a distance from lived experience.
For any profession or organisation involved in supporting autistic people, conversations around neurodiversity and the lived realities of neurodivergent people are essential. In my role as a Relationships Director within an organisation providing a range of services to neurodivergent people with a support need, I have noted a growing frequency of these conversations across conferences, policy papers and training sessions in recent years. Unfortunately, increased visibility does not always translate into genuine understanding. Too often, the shape, tone, and focus are still set by systems and structures that operate at a distance from lived experience.
During this year’s British Institute for Learning Disabilities (BILD) International Positive Behaviour Support Conference, I had the opportunity to engage in a different kind of dialogue – shaped by perspectives rooted in lived experience. Together with Julian "Jules" Barton from the podcast Autistic Radio, I took part in a live on-stage conversation that explored what it means to create communication spaces where autistic people don’t have to mask or perform – while also offering professionals a space to reflect on their own practice through honest, mutual dialogue.
At the heart of the discussion was the story behind the Autistic Radio model. Jules spoke powerfully about the expectations autistic people often face when invited to contribute to various projects – expectations not just around what is said, but how it’s said, how one looks, and how one behaves. In many cases, these expectations can exist even within well-intentioned efforts at inclusion and co-production, often bringing hidden pressures to conform to norms that weren’t designed with autistic people in mind.
Autistic Radio was created in response to that dynamic – as a deliberately different kind of space which aims to reshape the very conditions in which communication can take place. To support genuine reflection, guests are first given ample time, comfort, and opportunity to speak without a live audience or the need to ‘perform’. Importantly, recordings are then carefully edited – not to sanitise, but to support clarity and ease for both speaker and listener.
Reflecting on this approach to communication also raised wider questions about how autism is still too often understood through a pathological lens. I believe that this framing tends to obscure the relational depth and mutual understanding that emerge through open dialogue between autistic people and professionals and which form the basis of holistic and person-centred support. As such, it is crucial that services continue to strengthen approaches and methods that are firmly distanced from deficit-based thinking and aligned with models grounded in collaboration, shared insight, and respect for difference.
This is a conversation that will stay with me. In exploring these ideas together, it offered a timely and resonant testament to the value in mutual dialogue and creating space to speak and listen with intention. For services, it’s also a reminder to recognise that strengthening communication isn’t just about individual skill, but about the structures and assumptions that shape how we listen in the first place. Ultimately, collaboration is at the core of thoughtful, inclusive, and truly person-centred support.
In this way, the conversation itself became a small act of resistance. Not by making noise, but by making space.
