“I can generate connections that others might not see and come up with cool and interesting ways to solve a task,” said Eli Werbach, a fifth-year engineering technology major at Drexel who is autistic.
Tyler Murphy, a sophomore at Drexel studying animation and visual effects, says he views his autism as his superpower.
“If I find something I like, I’m able to hyperfocus and learn every bit of knowledge about it and apply it to the tasks,” Murphy said.
Recognizing these strengths, some major companies — including tech giants SAP and Microsoft, and financial institutions Wells Fargo and J.P. Morgan Chase — began building neurodiverse hiring programs roughly a decade ago.
Those efforts have yielded significant revenue for companies, some of them say, with EY, one of the big four accounting firms, reporting in 2023 that its neurodiverse employees have generated nearly $1 billion in business value. A study by J.P. Morgan Chase found that its autistic employees were much more productive than its neurotypical ones.
Consumer finance company Synchrony, which plans to hire 15 neurodivergent interns this year, says the program has changed how teams work across the company.
“People get more thoughtful about how they communicate, set expectations, onboard and give feedback,” said Joshua Crafford, vice president of technology learning and development. “It also helps managers and peers support different working styles.”
But even as employers have become more willing — even eager — to hire graduates on the autism spectrum, their hiring practices continue to shut many qualified candidates out.
The biggest barrier is the interview process, according to Zoe Gross, director of advocacy for the Autistic Self Advocacy Network. She says that, on a subconscious level, recruiters prefer candidates who make regular eye contact, laugh at their jokes and mirror their body language — behaviors that don’t always come naturally to autistic people.
“Without realizing it, employers are putting a lot of weight on the social competence of the person, rather than whether they’re qualified for the job,” Gross said. They’re hiring “based on vibes.”
The process can also penalize autistic candidates for their tendency to take things literally and answer questions honestly, Gross said. For example, if an employer asks, “What is your greatest weakness?” an autistic person might honestly respond, “I struggle with time management” — without pivoting to explain how they manage that challenge.
AI-enabled interviews and pre-screens can further disadvantage autistic job candidates, disqualifying them based on their vocal cadence, lack of eye contact or “stimming” behavior (repetitive movements or sounds), according to Amy Edwards, director of Drexel’s Center for Autism and Neurodiversity.
And AI tools can make it harder for autistic individuals to even get an interview. One study found that AI-enabled resume screeners ranked resumes lower if they included disability-related awards or memberships.
That said, the AI era has also brought some benefits for autistic job candidates, Gross said. With the rise of chatbots like ChatGPT, more companies are asking candidates to perform job-related tasks during an interview, to prove they’re not using AI for their work. Such skills-based hiring puts more focus on what a candidate can do, and less on how well they “click” with an interviewer, she says.
To prepare autistic students for the interview process, colleges like Drexel and Rowan University, across the river from Philadelphia in New Jersey, often conduct mock interviews.
On a recent weekday, Chiara Latimer, director of Rowan’s Center for Neurodiversity, sat down with Anthony Ung, a graduate student in computer science who was preparing for an interview with a major defense contractor.
When Ung becomes nervous or overstimulated, he often walks to calm himself down. But in a virtual interview, he’ll need to stay seated, so they’re trying other tactics.
In their last meeting, Ung had been speaking too fast. This time, Latimer handed Ung a selection of “grounding stickers” he might use to remind himself to speak more slowly. He chose a pink heart with a reminder to “breathe in, breathe out.”
Latimer then launched into a series of common interview questions, starting with the classic: “Tell me about a time you worked on a team to achieve a goal, and what was the outcome?”
Ung responded with a detailed but succinct story about a time he worked as team leader on a class project building a web application for a medical setting. The outcome, he said, was that “the instructor was impressed.”
Latimer praised his progress, saying he seemed to be getting more comfortable discussing specifics. While she talked, he fidgeted with a seven-layer Rubik’s Cube and toggled rapidly between webpages and email.
They reviewed several more interview questions, with Latimer helping Ung comb through his experiences for good examples. When they finished, she asked how he was feeling.
“I’m feeling a bit more at ease,” Ung said.
Latimer asked if the heart helped.
“Not particularly,” he answered honestly. “When I’m anxious, I normally type randomly on my keyboard. But I can just type three fingers at the bottom of the laptop.”
“Be careful,” Latimer warned. “You don’t want them to think you’re using ChatGPT.”
Latimer suggested he find a quiet material that he can position to the side of his laptop and use to tap his fingers quietly there. They agreed and made plans to meet again the following day.
When Rowan started its Autism PATH — Preparation and Achievement in the Transition to Hire — seven years ago, only 40 percent of participants found work within a few months of graduating. Now, with most students spending four years getting academic and career coaching in the program, that rate has climbed to 66 percent, Latimer says.
At Drexel, where the majority of undergraduates spend five years alternating between classes and full-time jobs, known as co-ops, the co-op placement rate for students who receive support through the Center for Autism and Neurodiversity is in the mid-90s, according to Peg Monaghan, the center’s associate director.
While some programs will teach students interview survival strategies — such as how to fake eye contact by looking between an interviewers’ eyes or into a computer camera — Monaghan says she doesn’t tell students they must act neurotypical in interviews to get hired. She believes it’s better to be authentic than to surprise an employer on Day 1.
“They need to be themselves,” she said.
Along with reviewing resumes and conducting mock interviews, college autism support programs help students weigh the pros and cons of disclosing their diagnosis to a prospective employer.
Both options carry risks. Candidates who disclose may be viewed differently by employers or be subject to discrimination, says Amy Hurley-Hanson, co-editor of the book “Generation A: Research on Autism in the Workplace”; those who don’t may face criticism if a problem arises in the workplace and they bring it up then.
Hiding one’s autistic traits — known as “masking” — can also take an emotional toll, leading to depression and anxiety, Gross of the self-advocacy network says.
Monaghan says she advises students to wait until they have an offer in hand to formally disclose their autism, if they want to.
Murphy, who just finished his first co-op, says he chose to be candid with his employer.
“Autism is a strength of mine, so why would I put it away in a box?” he asked.
Werbach, the Drexel senior, has varied his approach. When he interviewed for his first co-op placement, he mentioned that he has trouble reading social cues. The second time around, he didn’t disclose until later, when he had a minor conflict with a co-worker. By his third co-op, he’d decided against disclosure.
“They could probably tell I think differently, but I didn’t tell them,” he said.
Back at the career fair, the recruiter finally arrived. Myers rushed over to greet her and helped her spread a navy blue tablecloth across her station, complimenting the SEPTA button she was wearing (“the best transit logo”) and the train sticker on her laptop. He then proceeded to pepper her with questions about Philadelphia’s trolley modernization project.
“When are the new trains going to enter service? Will they redesign the stations to accommodate them? Are there plans to separate car traffic from trolley traffic? Will they keep the legacy trains?”
“You are ahead of the game!” the recruiter exclaimed, seemingly impressed by his knowledge of the project. When Myers asked a question she couldn’t answer, she offered to get him a meeting with the chief of planning, “so you can ask your question directly.”
When the conversation was over, Myers returned to the Center for Autism and Neurodiversity’s table and said the exchange gave him hope.
“If I can demonstrate my expertise like I just did, I think I can get a co-op,” he said.
