Yeah, So Everything You Use at Work Was Built for a Brain That Doesn't Exist
Most workplace tools are designed for people at their best. Peak performance. Full capacity. That mythical person who doesn't actually exist when you need them most.
Look, I'm writing this at 11 PM after my third meeting ran over and someone asked me to "circle back on the synergies" for the fifth time today. My brain is fried. And that's when I realized — this is exactly when I need tools that actually work, and exactly when everything falls apart.
You know what I'm talking about. Those workplace training videos that assume you can focus for 45 minutes straight. The project management software with 47 different views that you're supposed to remember how to navigate. The wellness app that cheerfully reminds you to "take a mindful moment" when you're having a full meltdown in the bathroom stall.
None of this shit works when you actually need it.
Here's What Nobody Wants to Admit
Most workplace tools are designed for people at their best. Peak performance. Full capacity. That mythical person who wakes up refreshed, remembers what they learned last week, and can "just focus" when things get stressful.
I don't know about you, but I haven't met that person. And I've been doing this for... let me think... too many years.
The real kicker? If you have ADHD, autism, dyslexia, or literally any form of neurodivergence, you already know the emperor has no clothes. These tools weren't just "not built for you" — they actively work against how your brain functions.
But here's what we discovered (and by "we" I mean me and the other burnt-out professionals I've been building with): when you design for ADHD brains under stress, you've accidentally designed for EVERYONE under stress.
Because guess what? A neurotypical brain at 8/10 stress looks exactly like an ADHD brain at baseline. Same executive function issues. Same working memory problems. Same emotional dysregulation. If you're looking for focus and self-management strategies, you're not alone.
We're all struggling with the same broken tools. Some of us just hit the wall faster.
What "Neurodivergent-First" Actually Means (No, It's Not Adding Dark Mode)
Most companies think accessibility means slapping on some features after the fact. Captions on videos. A screen reader option. Maybe a "focus mode" that just turns off notifications.
That's like putting a bandaid on a broken leg.
Neurodivergent-first design means you build for the hardest case FIRST. Not as an afterthought. Not as an accommodation. As the foundation.
The Stuff That Actually Matters:
Assume I Remember Nothing
Traditional design: "As we covered in the onboarding..."
ND-first: Every tool includes its own instructions. Every time. Because I don't remember what you told me 5 minutes ago, let alone last Tuesday.
Assume My Executive Function is Dead
Traditional design: "Choose from these 12 options based on your needs!"
ND-first: Tell me exactly what to do. One thing. Right now.
If I could make good decisions, I wouldn't be stress-eating chips while answering emails at midnight.
Assume My Capacity Changes
This is the big one nobody talks about. Traditional tools assume you're always operating at the same level. But that's not how humans work.
Some days I'm in the green zone — I can handle complexity, learn new things, actually be creative. Other days I'm in the red zone and I literally cannot process the words "please see attached."
Real tools need to work differently based on where you're at. When you're at an 8/10 stress level, you don't need "advanced strategies." You need:
- One breath
- One action
- 30 seconds max
That's it. That's the tool.
The Curb Cut Thing Everyone Mentions
You've probably heard about curb cuts — those ramps at street corners built for wheelchairs that everyone ends up using. Parents with strollers. Delivery people. Anyone with luggage.
Well, ND-first design is like that, except instead of helping you get your suitcase across the street, it helps you not completely lose your shit when Barbara from accounting sends her ninth "per my last email" of the day. When work stress becomes overwhelming, establishing work-life boundaries becomes critical.
- When you build for someone with ADHD who can't remember anything, you help the exhausted parent who hasn't slept in three days.
- When you build for someone autistic who needs clear, explicit instructions, you help everyone in crisis mode who can't make another decision.
- When you build for someone with dyslexia who needs shorter text, you help literally everyone because nobody wants to read your 20-page best practices guide, Kevin.
Why This Isn't Happening Everywhere
You want the honest answer? Because it's harder. And companies are lazy.
- Building three different experiences based on capacity? Complex.
- Creating tools that work without assuming prior knowledge? More work.
- Designing for edge cases? "Not cost-effective."
Also, it requires actual neurodivergent people making decisions. Not consulting. Not on an advisory board. Actually in charge. And most companies would rather have a pizza party than structural change.
What We Built (Because Someone Had To)
We made something called EmergentSkills. I'm not gonna give you the full marketing spiel because honestly I'm too tired and you probably are too.
But basically: 10 life skills pillars, every single one built neurodivergent-first. Meaning:
- It knows when you're melting down and gives you different tools
- It never assumes you remember anything
- The crisis tools are actually for crisis, not "mild stress"
- Everything takes 30 seconds or less when you need it to
We literally have something called "Can't-Even Mode." Because sometimes you literally can't even. And that's not failure — that's Tuesday.
Oh right, there's a free 30-minute reset thing you can try if you want. It's built for when your brain is mush. Which, if you're reading this at work, is probably right now.
The annual subscription is cheaper than your monthly coffee budget, but there's a monthly option if you're skeptical. Which you should be. Most workplace tools are garbage.
The Part Where I'm Supposed to Inspire You
I'm 70 years old. I have ADHD and dyslexia. I spent 50 years using tools that made me feel broken.
Turns out I wasn't broken. The tools were.
If you've ever felt like you're failing because you can't focus during the third hour of a "workshop," or you can't remember the seven-step process for requesting time off, or you completely shut down when there are too many options...
You're not failing. You're using tools built for a robot, not a human.
And definitely not a tired human who just wants to get through the day without crying in their car.
What This Actually Means for You
If you're neurodivergent:
Stop believing it's your fault the tools don't work. They were never designed for you. Find tools that were, or build them yourself, or honestly just accept that sometimes the professional development strategy is knowing when to fake a bathroom break.
If you're neurotypical but exhausted:
Those "accommodations" you think are just for "special needs"? You need them too. You just don't need them until you're stressed. But when you're stressed is exactly when you need things to work.
If you're in charge of buying tools for your team:
Stop buying shit that only works when people are at their best. Your people are almost never at their best. Buy tools that work when everyone's at their worst. That's when tools matter.
One More Thing
I read somewhere that companies lose billions on people being disengaged. You know what causes disengagement? Using tools that make you feel stupid. Having to pretend you remember things you don't. Sitting through training that assumes you have infinite attention.
We keep building for the employee who doesn't exist
Always energized, always focused, always able to "just figure it out."
Meanwhile, real humans are out here googling "how to look productive in meetings when you're dead inside."
Maybe it's time to build for them instead.
Or us. Whatever. I need to go lie down.
Ready for Tools That Actually Work?
That's the link to the thing if you want to try it when your brain comes back online
Annual is $299 which sounds like a lot until you realize you spent more than that on productivity apps that you used for exactly three days.
I'm gonna go stare at the ceiling now.
