Confessions of an Autistic Man

Satoshi Tajiri created a world of monsters called Pokemon.

Charles Darwin found the “missing link” and discovered Evolution.

Issac Newton was hit on the head by an apple, and “light bulb” Gravity.

Albert Einstein looked to the stars and found the Theory of relativity.

Stanley Kubrick looked through a camera lens and found 2001: A Space Odyssey.

Michelangelo scaled Vatican City, painting the Sistine Chapel ceiling.

Andy Warhol screen printed Monroe’s smile fifty times, giving rise to Pop Art.

Mozart composed over eight hundred works to soothe our ears, including Requiem.

Bill Gates brought the office to our computers with Microsoft.

While Steve Jobs brought leisure to our computers with Apple.

And right now, Elon Musk is trying to reach Mars with SpaceX.

What’s all these famous people have in common?

They’ve all made an impact with BIG IDEAS.

BIG IDEAS that have inspired millions.

But there’s something else they’ve all got in common.

Something you could argue is the ‘secret formula’ of these big ideas.

They’ve all shown symptoms or been diagnosed with autism.

And it’s not a marvellous coincidence.

University of East Anglia has explored the relationship between autism and ideas.

They’d gathered data from people across the spectrum, setting a creative challenge to come with as many alternative uses for a brick or paper clip.

(Which reminded me of the creative test issued by the famous Watford Ad Course)

And the resulting outcome was that people with higher traits of autism came up with more original and creative solutions.

So, what is considered a ‘disability’ is an ‘advantage’ in coming up with ideas.

We marvel at these geniuses, with the amazing thoughts that pop into their heads.

But autism has helped them conceive these wonderful ideas.

This is a strong indicator for creative agencies looking for BIG IDEA people.

BIG IDEAS that are original and creative.

BIG IDEAS that would shake the pillars of our industry.

It’s no secret where to look, you just have to reach out.

But also to remind those on the spectrum that you have the tools.

The tools to think BIG.

All you need is a pen and paper.

And see what comes out of your noggin.

I like to ramble.

Sometimes I repeat myself.

Sometimes I jumble up words.

An embarrassing mistake was mixing up “ethical” with “ethnic”.

And occasionally I make words up, beautiful becomes blootiful.

Altogether I sound like an intellectual reading alphabet spaghetti.

On a merry-go-round.

I just don’t get to the point quick enough.

And I find that frustrating sometimes.

Especially when I’m trying to explain an idea.

Communication has never been my strength.

But it makes perfect sense.

Many of the symptoms of Asperger’s syndrome are around social interaction.

It’s just part of me.

Funny? I’m in the communications industry.

How did I succeed in getting into this line of work?

Coming up with ideas to communicate to thousands, if not millions of people.

Well that really isn’t a surprise.

What I lack in talking, I make up for in words and pictures.

Throughout my life I’ve always expressed myself through art.

Whether that be drawing, painting or photoshop.

It has become my language.

What I couldn’t communicate, I would show.

Using body paint to express different emotions.

Celebrating dyslexia through an open misspelt letter.

Or just making Christmas funny with sprouts for eyes.

It has all led up to my job.

So you could argue that creative advertising is my language.

Autism has a wide spectrum of languages, all unique.

Great example is WOODISM.

Woody supplies unique phrases, his dad creates blootiful linocuts.

This team has caught the attention of the national press.

It’s been featured in the BBC, V&A, The Independent, and even the Olympics.

That shows you the power of autistic language.

So before you dismiss what someone with autism is trying to say.

Let them show you in their language.

You might soon be speaking in autistic lingo.

Ramble over.

“Stop beating yourself up”

“You are too hard on yourself”

“You are doing a good job!”

This is what I regularly hear in my work.

From everyone around me.

Family.

Friends.

Work.

And they’re right.

My biggest adversary isn’t other creatives.

No.

It’s perfection.

It likes to remind me everyday that I’m not good enough.

Pointing out flaws in my work.

Questioning my passion and energy.

Like a series of mind games.

Grinding me down, until the day feels lost.

Perfection is merciless.

Over the lockdown I have struggled.

Struggled to find rhythm.

And with autism, that can be a big problem.

You want your day to be perfect.

To do things right.

Right down to the smallest detail.

Especially in something you love.

Our world is revolved around it.

And when we make mistakes.

Get something wrong.

We emotionally beat ourselves up about it.

It’s a vicious cycle of trial and error.

And I regularly find myself stuck.

Stuck in the rut of restarting my day.

Over, and over again, whenever things don’t go to plan.

It’s a serious perfection complex.

And I am fighting with it.

But the funniest thing is…

perfection has been with me since I picked up a pencil.

It’s has gotten me from living with my parents, to working in top creative agencies.

And with autism, striving to be perfect at something you love is part of you.

Being autistic, perfection is enhanced mentally.

It breaks so many barriers, like being confident around other people.

And when I figured out I was good at something, I completely changed.

I strived to be better, building myself, growing into the role.

Not being startled by others, rising to the challenge.

Perfection has been holding my hand all the way.

Writing ads upon ads, until I got it right.

Changing my portfolio every week.

Finding a creative partner that challenges me.

Perfection was the difference between me, and the rest of the competition.

When they were satisfied.

I was never satisfied.

It’s a gift, especially for those with autism.

So when your brain is beating you down.

And you’re having one of those days where you’re struggling.

Remember, perfection is your best friend.

If you didn’t strive for perfection, you wouldn’t be great.

Send.

Forward.

Reply.

CC.

Zoom.

Re-send.

Re-forward.

Re-reply.

Re-CC.

Boom.

Working at home has its challenges.

But nothing compared to the influx of information.

Daily emails.

Daily meetings.

Trying to register every little detail through your laptop screen.

The chorus of notifications.

The pings, the bings, the dings.

Sometimes I feel like I’m going to explode.

With my autism it’s hard to concentrate.

It’s hard to take everything into my head.

And balancing all this information, I will occasionally slip and make mistakes.

Sometimes the most basic job can go right over my head.

Because my mind is already tangled up with something else.

I simply get overwhelmed, and become lost in the sea of information.

The worst thing people can assume is that those with autism are slow.

We’re far from this narrow minded assumption. 

It’s just that our minds process information differently to others.

And I found that to be my greatest asset when writing ideas.

The most important skill in advertising is to ‘keep it simple’.

By keeping it simple you can communicate to normal people.

And that’s exactly how I process information, keeping it simple.

So when I am given a single minded message, or a simple question/problem.

Like; ‘Sell the toughness of CAT footwear’ or ‘Stop people spitting in public’.

I am able to funnel my mind, and focus on that single objective.

Flooding it with different solutions.

It’s what has helped me get this far in my career.

And I take this attribute forward when encountered with complicated briefs.

What is the most important message?

What is my focus?

I use these questions to navigate my mind.

Avoiding the complicated pitfalls.

Finding the door, and shutting everything out until it’s done.

Autism is a powerful tool when it has a single target.

It funnels the storm in our minds, using that power to show our potential.

And if companies can give their autistic employees space to focus.

They soon could be overwhelmed by the results.

Watford till I die.

Not the football club.

The creative advertising course.

I graduated from the class of 2015/16.

But I have been involved ever since.

My autism gives me a strong sense of loyalty. 

Giving me an unselfish and generous attitude.

And this is very apparent with my involvement with Watford.

Every year I have helped students.

From chatting to them over email, to coming in to do Friday critics.

I have taken time out of my career, to help progress others.

Becoming a creative mentor.

But it doesn’t stop there.

I have built an official twitter page.

Helping give the course an online presence.

While posting Watford content regularly.

I have created a series of posters.

Helping find a new home for the course during the pandemic.

And I still live in Watford.

It’s no surprise I am nicknamed “Mr Watford”.

But some people find this strange.

Strange that I unselfishly invest myself in a course.

When I should be investing 100% in my own career.

With autism I developed a strong connection for something I love.

And that comes from having admiration, and respect for what the course leader does.

But I think really, this all comes from support.

Which explains why I still keep in contact with most of my tutors and lecturers.

The thing is about autism, you never forget.

And when others invest time in you.

Believe in you.

In a world where autism is judged harshly.

Patronised.

Criticised.

This act of support is impactful.

It’s what makes us extremely loyal.

And is why we want to return the flavour… a million times over!

So when creative agencies hire people with autism.

They will be gaining a very loyal employee.

Like an invaluable player, and the mascot rolled into one.

Playing their heart out on the pitch.

While screaming at the top of their lungs….

“COME ON YOU CREATIVES!”.

I hated criticism.

Funny, I’m in a career where criticism is important.

You need to take it, and move on.

Don’t be precious with your ideas.

Let them die.

But I take criticism in such a different way to others.

Due to my autism, it’s more impactful to me.

It can stress me out.

Make me lose confidence.

Throughout my life I have been criticised.

“Daniel don’t do that!”

“Daniel behave yourself!”

“Daniel thats wrong!”

So, choosing a career in advertising was like an act of self-harm.

But weighing the pros and the cons.

I just love advertising too much.

And anyone with autism can relate to this obsessive behaviour.

However, the criticism I didn’t enjoy wasn’t from creative directors.

But from my creative partner.

“No.”

“Can you think of something better.”

“It just doesn’t work.”

“I think this is better.”

“I just don’t like it.”

In teams I took it all too personally.

And I would get really upset.

I just didn’t like my ideas dying before I could present them.

And from someone who was supposed to be on my side.

No creative partner could deal with it.

No creative partner would understand.

They’ll just all assume I was a big prima donna.

And leave.

But…

I am in a team now.

There were bumps in our relationship.

Times where it was really tough.

But we stuck together.

It wasn’t that she stopped criticising my work.

But how criticism was dealt.

We found out I didn’t hate criticism.

It was just how I received it.

In the past the criticism was quite blunt.

My idea was dismissed, and that was that.

Now when my partner is critical, there is a reason and direction.

She meets me halfway.

And works with what I got, and adds to it.

My partner offers constructive criticism.

It’s giving the bad, with the good.

And I think that is a lesson for anyone dishing out criticism.

Sometimes you just need to give autism a steer in the right direction.

And not leave it dead and buried.

It just requires some critical love.

And a beer.

I love the Rocky movies.

The classic underdog story about a boxer who has a dream.

Rolling with the punches, fighting through the pain and tears.

Getting his one shot to win the greatest title in the world.

It was a big inspiration for me.

But also it gave me an identity.

An alter ego.

Growing up I would always imagine myself in another world, as someone else.

My autism created these worlds to help me deal with reality.

Getting bullied at school, being judged by my superiors.

But Rocky helped me imagine myself as someone fighting against it.

The underdog who would prove the doubters wrong, and make a name for himself.

And when I discovered advertising, I found a craft I could funnel my alter ego through.

Fast paced creative thinking, I saw as mental punches and quick combinations.

And big ideas as crushing haymakers.

Advertising provided me a stage to make my alter ego a reality.

The “Creative Brummie” was born.

Like Rocky’s ring name “The Italian Stallion”, I gave myself name to perform by.

When I was aiming to break into Watford.

The most highly regarded advertising course in the industry.

One Minute Briefs, a group on twitter, gave me the briefs to train towards the interview.

Everyday they would post a brief, and I would answer it as Creative Brummie.

I started to make a name for myself, drawing up all my ideas as scamps.

And entering over 15-20 at a time.

I even made a spectacle at another course interview.

Challenging the fastest thinker in the class.

Eventually I caught the attention of Watford.

When I arrived at the interview, I came with a book full of scamps.

This was my big fight.

My one shot to break into the best ad school.

I presented like Creative Brummie, 16 campaigns in 3 minutes.

The following day I was offered a place.

My alter ego sparked my career.

The imaginary world my autism created fuelled my individuality.

And empowered me.

It helped me stand out amongst the competition.

Nowadays I describe myself in third person as “Dan Scott”.