When we first discovered the power of co-regulation, it wasn’t in a clinic—it was in our kitchen, with a loud blender and a frazzled morning. A steady hand on the back. Matching breaths. Lowering the lights. No lectures, no “use your words”—just nervous system to nervous system, bringing Phoebe back from the edge (Ruttenberg, 2025).

When Phoebe was 18 months old, our family left a series of appointments armed with new labels—autism, ADHD, intractable epilepsy—but few answers (Ruttenberg, 2025). While people spoke kindly, the subtext felt like a polite apology for a future that hadn’t started yet. My wife Suzy and I sat with two kinds of fear, but looking at Phoebe’s intense gaze and sense of humor, we promised to parent the child we had, not a brochure version of who she was supposed to be.

Parenting a child who doesn't fit the mold can feel like standing at the edge of a cliff—equal parts fear and excitement, with a spectacular view if only the fog lifts. When our daughter Phoebe received her diagnoses of autism, ADHD, and intractable epilepsy at 18 months, a chorus of specialists lined up to deliver a symphony of warnings, caveats, and low expectations. But they missed something vital: this wasn't the start of a tragedy—it was the beginning of our family's rev

Read a portion of the prologue and learn more about the upcoming book here

As AI systems increasingly impact healthcare, hiring, and public safety, hidden risks and biases continue to arise. This article reveals why autistic and neurodivergent professionals bring unmatched skills in pattern recognition, data validation, and ethical oversight that are essential for responsible AI.

Ever wonder what happens when autistic or neurodivergent adults feel forced to hide their true selves? Masking isn’t just emotionally exhausting—it has real, measurable health impacts that wearable tech is helping to expose.

Ever wonder what happens when autistic or neurodivergent adults feel forced to hide their true selves? Masking isn’t just emotionally exhausting—it has real, measurable health impacts that wearable tech is helping to expose.

Despite persistent misconceptions, autism is not a disease, defect, or something that is broken. Rather, it is a neurodevelopmental difference—a unique way of thinking, sensing, and experiencing the world. This fundamental truth is backed by decades of credible scientific research, with leading advocates and researchers emphasizing that neurodivergence like autism is a natural and valuable aspect of human diversity (National Autistic Society, 2023; Davis & Crompton, 2021).

When the gavel falls on scientific funding , the damage ripples through the labs, the clinics, and the lives of neurodivergent...

Two weeks ago, COVID-19 put me flat on the couch. Between bouts of fever I kept replaying a scene from earlier this year: scrolling through an unpublished NIH funding announcement for the Autism Data Science Initiative (ADSI)—before NIH had officially released it. The document, labeled OTA-25-006, outlined a $50 million pot, a lightning-fast 30-day application window, and a review process run largely inside NIH.

The recent tragic shooting at the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) in Atlanta is the clearest warning yet that health misinformation is more than a nuisance—it is lethal. The shooter’s misguided fury was fueled by persistent anti-vaccine conspiracies, including the long-discredited myth falsely linking vaccines to autism. Decades of rigorous scientific research have thoroughly debunked this claim, yet it continues to cause destruction in families and communiti

Got4titude—a safe, intentional space designed exclusively for fathers raising children with disabilities or complex medical needs.

In a world where misinformation can spread faster than facts, where policy decisions affecting millions can be made without consulting those most impacted, I find myself at a crossroads that feels both deeply personal and profoundly urgent. My role on the Scientific Review Board of the Autism Data Science Initiative (ASDI) isn't just another line on my CV—it's a calling that emerged from the intersection of my life as a research scientist, a father, and an advocate.

This year, Forbes named Aspiritech to their inaugural Accessibility 100 list, recognizing them among the nation's leading innovators in disability inclusion (Forbes, 2025). Simultaneously, Crain's Chicago Business highlighted the organization as a key player in Chicago's evolution as an accessibility leadership hub, noting how the city continues its legacy from the early days of accessible curb cuts to today's cutting-edge neurodiversity initiatives (West, 2025). But accolade

For decades, romance researchers have studied neurotypical relationships, but what about the estimated 15% of the population who experience love differently due to neurodivergent traits (Ebooks IOS Press, 2024)? Research into sensory processing differences and social experiences has revealed surprising truths about neurodivergent romance—truths that challenge everything we think we know about connection and compatibility.

Despite decades of accommodation laws and corporate diversity initiatives, 85% of college-educated autistic individuals remain unemployed or underemployed (Work Design Magazine, 2025). This stark statistic reveals a fundamental truth: traditional accommodations are failing neurodivergent employees at scale. After years of developing wearable technology for academic, workplace, and social inclusion, I've discovered why: we're solving the wrong problem with outdated tools th

Universities across the globe are investing billions in "smart campus" initiatives, promising enhanced learning experiences through cutting-edge technology and innovative design. Yet research reveals a troubling paradox: these same campuses are systematically creating barriers for about 15% of students—the neurodivergent population (Ebooks IOS Press, 2024).

Picture this: You're designing a car, but instead of asking drivers what they need, you spend decades interviewing mechanics about engine parts. Sounds ridiculous, right? Well, that's essentially what autism research has been doing for years—studying autistic experiences without actually listening to autistic adults.

We've been studying autism all wrong! 🤯 Picture this: You're trying to solve a modern cybercrime... using evidence from the 1950s. Sound ridiculous? Well, that's exactly what autism research has been doing for decades. The Shocking Truth 📊 Only 0.4% of autism research focuses on adults. Let that sink in. We've been trying to understand adult autism challenges by studying kindergarteners. Meanwhile, 90% of autistic adults are out there describing their

You're trying to focus on an important presentation at work, but the fluorescent lights are humming like angry wasps, your colleague's perfume feels like it's attacking your nostrils, and that person three cubicles over is clicking their pen with the rhythm of a demented woodpecker. For most people, these might be minor annoyances. For 90% of autistic adults, these everyday sensory experiences can feel like navigating a world designed to overwhelm them.