I’m writing this first as a parent. Our daughter, Phoebe, is 23. She’s autistic, ADHD, and epileptic. Our family has done the whole tour: diagnoses, therapies, ER visits, and two craniotomies. So when I say “sensory load” isn’t a buzzword, I mean it in the most literal, nervous-system way possible. Now zoom out to work. You have invested millions in AI-powered tools to boost productivity. Your dashboards are sleek. Your notifications are instant. Your analytics are real-time.

I am a parent first. Our daughter, Phoebe, is 23. She is autistic, ADHD, and epileptic. We have done the long stretch of diagnoses, therapies, school meetings, and the kind of ER visits that erase your sense of time. She has also survived two craniotomies. When you have lived that, the words “trust,” “safety,” and “accountability” stop being abstract nouns. They become the whole point. So when I hear leaders talk about “ethical AI” like it is a compliance chore, I have a hard

As a parent, I do not think about wearables in abstracts. I think about the nights my wife of 31 years (Suzy Girard at https://tenderwildfires.substack.com/ ) and my daughter spent in the ER. I think about our daughter, now 23, living with autism, ADHD, and epilepsy—and what it means to build tools that reduce harm before a hard day turns into a medical crisis. A decade ago, wearables mostly meant one thing: steps. Maybe a heart rate graph if you were feeling fancy. Now the s

Imagine walking into a grocery store. The fluorescent lights hum and flicker overhead. A dozen conversations blend into a wall of noise. The air conditioning creates a constant low drone. For many people, this is just... Tuesday. But for neurodivergent individuals: especially autistic adults: this sensory cocktail can trigger overwhelming distress, cognitive fatigue, and a desperate need to escape. This is the reality of sensory sensitivity. And it is one of the most underadd

I’m writing this as a parent first. Our daughter Phoebe is 23 and autistic, ADHD, and epileptic. We’ve done the rounds you never want to do: diagnoses, therapies, ER visits, and two craniotomies. When your kid’s brain is the battleground, you get very serious, very fast, about what helps attention, what steals it, and what quietly drains a person’s ability to cope. We have all felt it. That heavy, foggy feeling after hours of video calls. The inability to concentrate after sc

My wife of 31 years (Suzy Girard at https://tenderwildfires.substack.com/ ) and my daughter have taught me something no whitepaper ever could: the line between “helpful” and “harmful” is often invisible until you’ve lived it. Our daughter, Phoebe, is 23 and lives with autism, ADHD, and epilepsy. We’ve done the ER visits, the long nights, the waiting rooms, the two craniotomies. So when I look at mental health wearables, I don’t just see sensors and dashboards. I see a promise

I’m writing this as a parent first. Our daughter Phoebe is 23. She’s autistic, ADHD, and has epilepsy. We’ve done the full tour: diagnoses, therapies, ER visits, and two craniotomies. So when I say “distraction” isn’t just annoying, I mean it can be dangerous. Let’s be honest: most of the technology we use every day wasn’t designed to help us focus. It was designed to capture our attention and keep it hostage. From infinite scroll feeds to notification bombardment, modern AI

As a parent, “sensory” isn’t an abstract research term in our house. It’s the sound that spirals into panic, the light that becomes pain, the hallway that feels like a tunnel with no exits. Our daughter is 23, autistic, ADHD, and epileptic, and we’ve lived the hard version of this story: diagnoses that took years to untangle, therapies that helped (and some that didn’t), ER visits that blurred together, and two craniotomies that changed how my wife of 31 years (Suzy Girard at

I’m writing this as a parent first. Our daughter is 23. She’s autistic, ADHD, and epileptic. We’ve done the diagnosis maze, the therapies, the long ER visits that blur into morning, and two craniotomies that changed how I think about “support” forever. When you’ve lived that reality, the workplace question stops being abstract. It becomes simple: will this environment help someone thrive, or quietly grind them down? We’ve spent this series talking about sensory sensitivity, a

Here’s the uncomfortable truth about AI governance: most organizations are getting it wrong. They’re getting it wrong in ways that cost money. They’re getting it wrong in ways that create legal exposure. And they’re getting it wrong in ways that undermine the very innovation they’re trying to achieve. The numbers don’t lie. Despite massive investments in artificial intelligence, only 5% of companies successfully scale their AI projects (Fountaine et al., 2019). That’s a stagg

Here’s a question that keeps executives up at night: Why do most AI projects fail? It’s not because the technology doesn’t work. It’s because the people don’t use it. But here’s my ‘why’ behind human-centered AI: it’s not just a business decision. For me, it’s a personal mission. I am a parent first. Our daughter Phoebe is 23. She’s autistic, has ADHD, and lives with epilepsy. She’s also brilliant. And the difference between ‘traditional’ and ‘human-centered’ tech isn’t ac

As a parent first, this stuff doesn't feel abstract to me. Our daughter, Phoebe, is 23. She's autistic, has ADHD, and lives with epilepsy. We've done the diagnoses, the therapies, the ER visits, the long nights, the two craniotomies. So when I say “AI policy,” I’m not thinking about headlines. I’m thinking about real systems that make real decisions about real lives (Parliamentary Office of Science and Technology, 2023). Let me be blunt with you. If you're still asking whethe

I’m a doctor and a scientist, but I’m a parent first. If you’re reading this because your kid can’t filter a noisy room, can’t tolerate a clothing tag, or can’t hold onto a teacher’s words when the world gets loud, I want you to know something up front: I’ve been on this road too, not as a researcher looking in, but as a dad living it. My wife of 31 years (Suzy Girard at https://tenderwildfires.substack.com/ ) and our daughter, Phoebe, have shaped everything I know about this

Wearables are everywhere. They count steps, score sleep, flag stress, promise peace. But I’m going to lead with the part that matters most to me: I’m a parent first. Our daughter, Phoebe (23), is autistic, has ADHD, and lives with epilepsy. I’ve been in the ER with her after seizures. I’ve watched her do the long, exhausting work of recovering from two craniotomies. In those moments, you don’t want tech that simply tracks; you want tech that helps. Not a dashboard that dazzle

I want to start somewhere personal: I am a parent first. Our daughter Phoebe is 23. She is autistic, has ADHD, and epilepsy. I have lost count of the ER visits, the hospital corridors, the waiting-room minutes that feel like hours. And I have watched her fight through more than anyone should have to, including two craniotomies. That reality rewires your priorities. It also rewires your lens on something as “normal” as an office. Now, zoom out with me for a second. Think of yo

I’m a doctor and a scientist, but I’m a parent first. Here’s the question that keeps me up at night: Are we building AI systems that serve people, or are we reshaping people to serve AI systems? For me, that isn’t an abstract debate. It’s personal. Our daughter Phoebe is 23. She’s autistic, has ADHD, and lives with epilepsy. I’ve watched her endure every therapy imaginable, countless ER visits for seizures, and two craniotomies. When your family has lived inside hospital corr

I’m a parent first. Before the publications, before the prototypes, before the pitches. My wife of 31 years (Suzy Girard at https://tenderwildfires.substack.com/ ) and my daughter Phoebe have walked this road with me for 23 years. Our daughter is autistic, ADHD, and she lives with epilepsy. We’ve done the therapies, the appointments, the endless forms, the “try this next” plans. We’ve also done the parts nobody ever puts in a glossy brochure: ER stays, long nights in hospital

I’m going to start somewhere more human than a checklist: with our daughter, Phoebe. She’s 23, autistic, ADHD, and epileptic, and our family’s learned the hard way what “risk” feels like when it’s real, immediate, and personal: diagnoses that took years to untangle, therapies that helped (and some that didn’t), too many ER visits, and two craniotomies that changed the shape of our lives overnight.  That’s why I’m allergic to performative safety. Because when the stakes are h

Figure 1. The neuroscience of focus: why your team is fatigued (and how AI can help). Before I say a word about meetings, AI, or productivity, I want to start where I always start: at home. Our daughter, Phoebe, is 23. She’s autistic, has ADHD, and lives with epilepsy. We’ve done the full circuit: evaluations, therapies, long nights, ER visits that turn into hospital stays, and two craniotomies that rewire your definition of “tired” forever. So when I say “fatigue,” I don’t m

A Parent-Scientist’s Journey into Sensory Processing I can still smell it if I try: antiseptic, warmed plastic, that oddly sweet hospital air that clings to your clothes after midnight. The waiting room is always the same: fluorescent lights, vending-machine hum, the little beep-beep-beep that makes your chest tighten even when it’s not your kid on the monitor. If you’re reading this as a parent, here’s the honest version: I didn’t learn “sensory processing” from a textbook