‘We debate, we giggle and we share our human experience’

My first encounter of Nancy was in 2008, when I was leading a workshop on a technique called 'feedforward' with my late colleague Lynne Millward for the British Psychological Society. Nancy came and chatted to us in the break. It was immediately clear how we shared values congruent with empowering others to live their best possible lives. We talked about the importance of language and framing and starting off from a position of curiosity and non-judgement. And talk we did. Because a conversation with Nancy can be a bit like Formula One cars (which she loves!) challenging each other on the race track. Often her car will win the race. Because she's ambitious. Because she combines capability and an infectious way of being that pulls others with her, yet never loses sight of the importance or plight of others. 

I then had the pleasure of mentoring Nancy's doctoral journey. It was a mentorship of equals as I learned as much about research, psychology and life as I endeavoured to pass on to Nancy. Well, she certainly did learn because she passed her examination without corrections. This is rare in doctoral examinations, as asking people to make corrections that satisfy the examiner, rather than enhance contribution to our field of study, has become a rite of passage. 

Nancy inspired me to research and work in neurodiversity. We have remained firm friends and collaborators ever since, and lead our research centre at Birkbeck with sincerity and passion. It's not always easy. We both overcommit. We both get task focused when the going gets tough. Like Nancy, I find it hard to stand still, to remain static, and want to contribute to making our respective environments a better place. We get as frustrated as each other with reams of academic red tape, when there is a quicker and better way of doing things. But we inspire each other to continuously up our game. We hold each other to account. I always have a safe space with Nancy. We have honest and direct conversations which I relish. We debate, we giggle and we share our human experience. Working in any diversity field – the neurodiversity field is no different – means that we get judged – a lot. Being leaders in our respective contexts means that we are visible for what we do, and Nancy far more so because of her social media profile. And Nancy is a highly successful entrepreneur – who walks her talk and leads a social enterprise – as well as a brilliant researcher. But all privilege is relative. 

It's so easy to judge leadership, because we all strive for simple explanations. Judgement of women remains harsh – if only I could collect a reward for every time someone tells me, 'Oh Almuth, you can't say that.' My German upbringing means that I value candour because we tend to be more direct in general, and after many decades living in the UK I still struggle with people saying 'Oh that was great' when their meaning is entirely different. We've both experienced encounters of: 'Oh I am glad that I am being managed / led by a woman.' There's an implicit expectation that we will be mothering and nurturing, yet leadership can require tough decisions to be made. Leadership is about humanity. Leadership is a paradox, as Nancy signposts in her Introduction. We want our leaders to be strong as well as vulnerable. Leaders can't lead without a mandate, yet people don't always want to be led. We want our leaders to do what is right, and not what is easy, but berate mistakes. We yearn for strong examples of neurodivergent leadership, yet may expect our own preferences and needs to be accommodated at every turn. Such tensions can invoke strong reactions. 

The other thing to understand about paradoxes is that they shift and change in front of our eyes. Dr Wendy Smith and Professor Marianne Lewis make the point about leadership skills for managing paradoxes that leaders need to be open and accepting rather than stepping aside from any tensions. They put four skills at the heart of shifting paradox navigation, which Nancy embodies in abundance: 

• The first is cognitive complexity. Nancy reflects on her own journey in becoming a leader, recognising the good (the chance opportunities to enact leadership), the bad (school wasn't great, right?) and the ugly (Nancy's struggles with her mental health). 

• The second skill is confidence, which Nancy demonstrates throughout her book, but particularly in the middle section about enacting leadership, and how leadership can be ambitious yet also carries risks of 'doing' rather than 'being'. 

• The third skill is conflict management. For this I signpost you to Section 3 of the book, on sustainable leadership. Overwhelm and drama happen in every organisation, but are more likely in a cognitively diverse organisation. Lucky for us, Nancy brings us tangible solutions. 

• The fourth and final skill for navigating shifting paradoxes is communication. Nancy's book speaks to all of us, and through reflection on her experience, and her collaborators' experiences, invites us to consider our leadership in a relatable and authentic way. Nancy, I look forward to experiencing many more paradoxes with you. 

'Belief is the ultimate form of support, and it creates the next generation of leadership'

I encountered Almuth at various conferences and was aware of her coaching research and Society leadership when I was beginning my career in Psychology. I remember how nervous I used to be at conferences, and just how self-conscious I was in general as a young person, but few people would have noticed nervousness and would have instead thought 'she talks too much'. Almuth was easy to talk to and I found I didn't need to suppress so much of natural ADHD exuberance in her company. I was nervous, sure, anxious to make a good impression, but she was a uniquely approachable leader.

However, my love for Almuth and our connection was sealed when I watched her give the Chair's address at the Division of Occupational Psychology Conference wearing hot pants and cowboy boots. Now, I thought, this is a woman I can aspire to! On reflection now, I think this revelation relates to the career trajectory of the neurodivergent outsider – we feel othered and we assume that people in positions of influence are the ones doing the 'othering' – so when we get close to the 'professionals' and find them easy to relate to, it is refreshing. A psychologist who wasn't austere, reserved, judgemental – this was reassuring and made me think 'maybe I can do more here'. It not only inspired my own leadership to notice that I didn't have to stick firmly within the rules, but helped me feel part of the professional identity of psychology.

Over coffee one day, we lamented the lack of robust research in coaching, particularly in neurodiversity coaching – my practice area of expertise. At the time (2010–2011), neurodiversity was not a widely recognised concept, yet Almuth took a leap of faith and became my PhD supervisor. She understood the social model of disability inherent in the neurodiversity movement and became my co-pilot in introducing this perspective to the field of occupational psychology. I loved every aspect of my PhD – the writing, the research, the data analysis. My advice to prospective students now is simple: find a supervisor with whom you have genuine rapport. Just as in coaching, the relationship is the 'active ingredient' in a successful PhD experience.

As a supervisor, Almuth was firm yet fun, passionate about the social justice aspects of research. Her feedback was direct and transformational. I recall her saying, "Get off the soapbox, Nancy," urging me to shift my writing from activist and practitioner-focused to academically rigorous. She once corrected me with, "Nancy, in academia, we don't say 'distance travelled'; we talk about the magnitude of the effect!" And one of her most memorable lessons: "A PhD does not get better the longer it takes…"

Such is the power of female mentorship – the emerging 'old girls' club' of diverse leadership. Now, I find myself supervising students alongside Almuth, watching them grow in confidence and skill. This shared joy of nurturing others is at the core of our leadership philosophy. It is also the driving force behind my book, Learning from Neurodivergent Leaders. The book explores the development of leadership self-efficacy through academic knowledge, role modelling, shared stories of resilience, and reflective practice – guiding readers toward mastery.

Almuth and I have taken different leadership paths, yet our experiences have shaped us in similar ways. One of the challenges of leadership is navigating feedback – especially as ambitious, direct women who refuse to adopt a 'rescuing' leadership style. We have both spent countless hours reflecting on how best to support our teams and students. But leadership is not about doing everything for others; it is about empowering them to be independent practitioners and researchers. If Almuth and I choose not to rescue someone, it is because we believe in their ability to succeed on their own. That belief is the ultimate form of support, and it creates the next generation of leadership. In holding each other, ourselves, and our team to a high standard, we raise the bar for the work.

I am honoured to have inspired Almuth as much as she has inspired me. Her stewardship, insight, and commitment to quality have significantly enhanced the field of neurodiversity research in the workplace. Through mentorship, collaboration, and a shared dedication to developing future leaders, we continue to shape a more inclusive and impactful professional world.

• Learning From Neurodivergent Leaders: How to Start, Survive and Thrive in Leadership, by Nancy Doyle, is published in February by Jessica Kingsley Publishers.
• Do you have a collaborative partnership which illustrates wider psychological themes? We'd love to hear from you, on [email protected]