How Employers Are Building Workplaces For Neurodivergent Talent

15–20% of the population is neurodivergent, thinking, learning, and processing the world in ways that fall outside what’s typically considered the norm. Accountancy is a profession built on structure, precision and objective rules. In that setting, this variation is turning out to be less a diversity metric and more a genuine competitive edge. ACCA’s newest report, Neurodiversity in Accountancy: Navigating Your Career, makes that case directly. It draws on interviews with neurodivergent professionals across the UK, Malaysia and India, who describe careers built not despite their neurotype, but because of it. The report reframes a question that has shaped workplace policy for decades. Instead of asking what adjustments neurodivergent employees need to fit existing systems, it explores how they should change to empower employees. “The real question isn’t ‘what’s wrong with neurodivergent employees?'” The report states, “but rather ‘what workplace systems, processes and cultural norms were designed assuming one way of thinking, thereby inadvertently excluding other equally valid cognitive approaches?'”

That question found its way to Colombo, in the form of a roundtable convened by ACCA. It brought together HR leaders and senior finance professionals to discuss what the report’s findings mean closer to home. Jamie Lyon, ACCA’s Global Head of Skills, Sectors and Technology and one of the report’s co-authors, opened by asking the room how many recognised terms like ADHD, autism or dyslexia in a workplace context. A couple of hands went up. That was all the opening the room needed. What followed was a candid, wide-ranging conversation about a workforce many hadn’t yet had reason to name.

Setting the Vocabulary: Neurodiversity vs Neurodivergence

Before the roundtable could explore what neurodivergent talent means for Sri Lankan organisations, it needed a shared vocabulary. Lyon spent the opening half of the roundtable carefully establishing one.

Neurodiversity, he told the room, is not a condition. It describes a natural variation present in everyone. “We are all neurodiverse,” he said. “It’s really the fact that all of our brains are wired in slightly different ways.” Within that full population sits a smaller group. An estimated 15 to 20% have cognitive variation significant enough to fall outside what is considered typical. That is the group we should call neurodivergent, he stressed, not neurodiverse: “When we talk about individuals, it’s always around neurodivergent individuals.” Everyone else is neurotypical, or the neuromajority. The report backs this up in its own words: “Every single person thinks and behaves differently. Our brains are as unique as our fingerprints.”

The distinction matters because the words carry very different implications. Neurodiversity is a fact about the human population as a whole. Neurodivergence describes an individual difference that has, for most of the last century, been treated as something to diagnose, manage and correct.

The report traces how that treatment has shifted, and Lyon underscored the point in the room. For most of the twentieth century, differences in cognition were viewed almost entirely through a medical lens. Diagnostic manuals catalogued symptoms and deficits. Legitimacy depended on a clinical label. From the 1970s, activists began to argue that the deeper problem was not the individual but the environment: workplaces, schools and social norms built around a single, assumed way of thinking. That argument has only gained ground. Organisations such as EY’s Neuro Diverse Centre of Excellence and the UK’s Government Communications Headquarters have built recruitment pipelines specifically for neurodivergent talent. As the report puts it, “when environments adapt rather than individuals, excellence becomes possible.”

The practical upshot for employers, ACCA argues, is a change in the question worth asking. Rather than treating neurodivergent employees as a compliance category requiring accommodation, the report frames cognitive variation as something closer to a design problem: systems built around one kind of thinking, inadvertently excluding others equally capable of doing the work.

Language, Lyon told the roundtable, is not a side issue. Terms like “high functioning” and “low functioning,” he warned, are “too generic” and “stereotype too much.” They measure how easily someone conforms to neurotypical expectations, not their actual capability. And they can be used either to withhold support or to lower expectations. He also cautioned against the word “disorder” itself: “Many in the community do prefer autism spectrum conditions, or something that’s not framed as a disorder. It’s just a variation; it’s not a disorder.” Framing a neurotype as a tragedy, describing someone as “suffering from” or “afflicted by” a condition, does similar damage. None of this is cosmetic. Whether an employee feels safe enough to disclose a diagnosis, or even to raise a working preference without one, often comes down to one thing: whether the language around them treats their thinking as valid.

A Workforce No One Has Measured

The room’s unfamiliarity with the terminology was just a starting point. What came next was a more pointed admission: nobody at the table, or anywhere else in Sri Lankan business, actually knows how many neurodivergent professionals are already working in their organisations. “It’s a no-brainer that talent is out there,” Suren Rajakarier, Country Managing Partner at KPMG Sri Lanka, said, “that 15% of whatever number, whether it’s 15 or not, we do not have a clue about the country of Sri Lanka. I don’t think anybody knows what that number is.” Gayathri Manatunga, Country Managing Partner at EY Sri Lanka, was more direct about why. “Right now in Sri Lanka, there is still a lot of stigma, social stigma,” she said. “No one talks about anything to do with neuro. I think if you mention that, the first reaction would be, ‘oh gosh, there is something very radically wrong.'”

That silence is not unique to Sri Lanka, and ACCA’s report says as much. Its section on cultural context draws on interviews with professionals in Malaysia and India, describing adult neurodiversity conversations in both countries as “almost non-existent.” One interviewee in India, despite actively discussing his own ADHD diagnosis for six months, had encountered only two other Indians who had shared theirs. In Malaysia, a university lecturer diagnosed with autism at 34 recalled medical officers refusing to believe her condition was possible: “You have eye contact. You can talk well. You can answer my questions. You won’t be neurodivergent.” She was treated for generalised anxiety disorder instead for years, before a different doctor recognised what she was actually describing.

The report offers a structural explanation for why silence like this persists across such different markets. “Cultural differences,” it notes, “how neurodiversity is perceived varies significantly across societies, generations and communities. In some cultures, there’s significant stigma attached to diagnosis. Older generations may not have had access to the language or frameworks to understand their experiences as neurodivergent.” Even where stigma is less severe, access itself is often the barrier. In the UK, a market with decades of legal and clinical infrastructure behind it, the report notes that “NHS waiting lists for adult ADHD and autism assessments can stretch to years. Private assessments cost thousands of pounds. This creates a two-tier system where diagnosis becomes a privilege.” No country, in other words, has fully solved this. Sri Lanka’s gap is real, but it sits on a spectrum other markets are still working through too.

What Happens When Support Systems Aren’t There Yet

That data and infrastructure gap isn’t just an abstraction. For a parent raising a neurodivergent child, it can shape a family’s entire future: it means waiting on legal, medical,

and cultural systems that Sri Lanka is still building. At the roundtable, Manatunga described a colleague, a professional on track to make partner at an accounting firm, whose second child was diagnosed as autistic. He tried, for as long as he could, to make it work within Sri Lanka’s existing systems. He became convinced his child needed an environment built to support that diagnosis, one Sri Lanka could not yet offer. So he made a decision that had nothing to do with career ambition. “It doesn’t matter about my career,” Manatunga recalled him saying. He emigrated, giving up his path to partnership, so his son could grow up somewhere with the ecosystem in place to give him, in Manatunga’s words, “a life that would be respectful.”

It is a rare instance, and the roundtable treated it that way. But ACCA’s own report suggests it is not an irrational one. Access to support, the report notes, “varies dramatically depending on your location, financial resources and healthcare system.” That is true even in markets with decades of infrastructure behind them; for a family in a market with almost none, the calculation looks starker still. What one roundtable participant described as a quiet, personal decision, the report frames differently. It calls this a predictable consequence of an access gap that exists to some degree everywhere. That gap is simply far more severe in places like Sri Lanka than in the systems the family ultimately moved towards.

The story stayed with the room. It was raised, unprompted, the moment stigma stopped being an abstract policy question and became something with a face and a cost attached. It also opened up a wider conversation about gaps closer to home, inside the workplace itself. Manatunga pointed to talent mobility policies. Many organisations, she said, “put a caveat to it saying you need to be in the current role for two years.” But neurodivergent employees often need variety sooner than that, and rigid tenure rules can mistake that need for a lack of commitment. “We see when someone says I want to do something else, we think it’s going against the policy.” Not every organisation takes that approach. Sim Siew Shan, Group Chief Financial Officer of Dialog Axiata, shared that encouraging employee mobility is part of its culture. Her concern lies elsewhere, inside HR itself. Teams simply aren’t trained to spot neurodivergent traits. “The people that are supposed to identify are not trained to identify in the first place,” she said. Her suggestion: put an occupational therapist or psychologist inside HR, so recognising these traits becomes part of the job, not an afterthought.

“Technology Plays A Role Too. The Report Describes It As “An Equaliser And Amplifier.” Tools As Ordinary As Spell Check, Dictation Software Or AI-Assisted Drafting Can Remove Friction That Has Nothing To Do With Someone’s Capability.”

What ACCA’s Research Says Helps, and How Employers Are Applying It

Employers have acknowledged those gaps and are embracing change to make space for neurodivergent talent. Part of what is driving that is how the work is changing. Channa Manoharan, Country Managing Partner at Deloitte Sri Lanka and Maldives, highlighted that “Increasingly mundane stuff is being replaced by AI. We are looking for talent that will be creative, innovative.” These are the same strengths the report associated with neurodivergent talent. ACCA’s findings also identified that across neurotypes, career stages and countries, a common set of factors determined whether neurodivergent professionals struggled or thrived.

When it comes to hiring, “We start with equal opportunity employment,” Rajakarier explained, describing an approach several others at the roundtable echoed. “Then you go into the next level of saying unbiased recruitment, and then you go on to say no discrimination. You don’t identify people by any of these features.” The principle, as Rajakarier described it, was to focus on matching people to roles matching their strengths. “We’re utilising them as talent,” Rajakarier said. “We make sure they get the right job for their talent. This is one way we can progress.” Deirdre Rodrigo Candappa, Director of Organisational Development and Culture at MAS’s Group Human Resources, described a similar approach playing out in recruitment specifically. “This needs to be built on several fronts, starting with recruitment,” she said. “Rather than identifying talent through face-to-face interviews alone, we need a combined approach, using different means of assessing candidates for strengths, capabilities, and unique contributions they can bring.” That same principle carries past hiring, she said: “Once someone joins, the focus should shift from correcting perceived shortcomings to understanding and leveraging their strengths. By recognising how each person works best and creating opportunities for them to excel, organisations can unlock greater performance, engagement, and innovation.

ACCA’s report highlights that this approach is closer to established global practices. “Some neurodivergent professionals choose to request adjustments based on specific needs without mentioning neurodivergence at all,” the report notes. A preference for written instructions over verbal ones, for instance, doesn’t require naming a diagnosis to be accommodated. “There’s no single right approach.” Elsewhere, the report is even more direct: “Some successful neurodivergent professionals never disclose formally, relying on careful job selection and preference-based adjustments.” Disclosure, in other words, is a choice everywhere, not a precondition for support, and Sri Lankan employers appear to be arriving at the same conclusion independently.

“Manager quality emerged as one of the most critical factors,” the report states. That isn’t about turning managers into neurodiversity experts. It comes down to something simpler. Some managers ask “what do you need?” Others assume, based on a diagnosis, or ignore the question altogether. That single habit tends to decide whether an employee can do their best work, or spends their energy just getting through the day. Maheksha Samaranayake, Assistant Vice President of Talent Acquisition and HR Operations at Nations Trust Bank, pointed to what that looks like in practice: “It’s important that we move towards targeted training and clear KPIs, so managers are educated on how to support these individuals,” she said. “We need training programmes designed so that we can identify their needs before decisions are made about them.”

Technology plays a role too. The report describes it as “an equaliser and amplifier.” Tools as ordinary as spell check, dictation software or AI-assisted drafting can remove friction that has nothing to do with someone’s capability. Clear communication mattered more than almost anything else, and not only for neurodivergent employees. The report is blunt about this: explicit instructions, specific deadlines, and unambiguous expectations “benefit everyone, while being essential for some.” Flexible qualification and career routes mattered too. Paths that don’t assume a single linear model of progression proved critical for reaching talent that more rigid systems simply screened out, before it had the chance to prove itself.

Psychological safety came up just as often. The report describes it as the factor that determines “whether people could show up authentically or exhaust themselves through constant masking.” That principle already shows up in local practice. “In my operation, the average age is 30,” said Sam Rajapaksa, Location and Consulting Leader at EY GDS Sri Lanka, “but I found that Gen Zs are more receptive to talking about their issues than our generation.” His organisation runs a bookable external counselling service, alongside “a global committee where we can schedule a counsellor from any part of the world.” Confidentiality, he said, is what makes it work: “Once that trust is built, it’s a confidential discussion, and they can find help.”

Building Neurodiverse Workplaces Intentionally

One story from the roundtable pointed towards what might already be changing, quietly, in the next generation. Rajakarier described his sons’ school, where classrooms include children with a range of learning differences. For the kids growing up inside it, that mix has simply always been normal. Some of those children, he noted, aren’t just keeping up. “Some of them actually are the first in the class,” he said. “Some of them excel in chess.” For the children in that classroom, the difference has never had to be explained or overcome. It’s just how their world has always looked, and by his account, it isn’t holding anyone back.

“Manager Quality Emerged As One Of The Most Critical Factors,” The Report States. That Isn’t About Turning Managers Into Neurodiversity Experts. It Comes Down To Something Simpler. Some Managers Ask “What Do You Need?” Others Assume, Based On A Diagnosis, Or Ignore The Question Altogether. That Single Habit Tends To Decide Whether An Employee Can Do Their Best Work, Or Spends Their Energy Just Getting Through The Day.”

JEHAN PERINPANAYAGAM, Chief Executive Officer at Infomate

That is, in miniature, the shift ACCA’s report asks employers to make. Not tolerance of difference as an exception to manage, but structures built from the outset to expect it. There’s a commercial case here too, not just a moral one. “There’s a real commercial upside to this,” said Prasenna Balachandran, Vice President Risk and Governance at Inqube Global, “If you have a societal view of the people, pair it with a commercial one.” The evidence from ACCA’s research bears that out. “Organisations that treat neurodiversity as a compliance exercise or diversity metric will fail,” the report states. “Those who recognise it as fundamental to how they design work, build teams and enable performance will unlock genuine competitive advantage.” Sri Lankan employers still don’t have the data, the language or the legal framework other markets have had decades to build. But that is not a reason to wait. The roundtable suggested the opposite: the instincts are already there, in how people are being hired and managed, even without a name yet for what’s driving them.