Inclusion does not last when it relies on individual goodwill. Communities that are genuinely inclusive pay attention to who is present, who is missing, and whose voices are influencing decisions.
In a world where diversity is often acknowledged but not always celebrated, we are taking a step forward to highlight the importance of inclusivity in building strong, vibrant communities. This series aims to explore the various facets of diversity — be it racial, cultural, gender-based, or within the differently-abled community — and understand how embracing these differences strengthens our social fabric. As a part of this series, we had the pleasure of interviewing Nicola Knobel.
Nicola Knobel is the Head of Safety, Risk and Assurance at a large national charity in Aotearoa New Zealand. She is a qualified risk and safety professional with a Master of Laws, specialising in occupational health and safety, psychosocial risk, and governance. Nicola is also an author, speaker, and advocate for neuroinclusive workplaces, drawing on both professional expertise and lived experience as a late-diagnosed autistic and ADHD woman. Her work focuses on moving organisations beyond performative inclusion towards practical, evidence-based accommodations that improve safety, decision-making, and sustainability for everyone.
Thank you so much for joining us in this interview series. Before we dive into our discussion about celebrating diversity, our readers would love to “get to know you” a bit better. Can you share with us the backstory about what brought you to your specific career path?
My career path was shaped less by ambition and more by what I kept seeing go wrong in workplaces.
I started out in environmental science and then moved into safety, risk, and governance roles in complex organisations. In those environments, it becomes very clear, very quickly, that incidents and failures are rarely caused by one person making a bad decision. They are almost always the result of workload pressure, unclear roles, poor communication, and cultures where people do not feel safe to speak up.
As I moved into more senior roles, I began noticing the same patterns repeating. Certain people were labelled as difficult, inflexible, or not resilient enough. Burnout was common, but it was framed as an individual wellbeing issue rather than a predictable outcome of how work was designed. Neurodivergent people were often the first to struggle, not because they lacked capability, but because the system required constant adaptation and tolerance for ambiguity.
My own late diagnosis of autism and ADHD helped me make sense of experiences I had had throughout my career. Traits that had been rewarded, such as intense focus, over preparation, and taking on responsibility, were also the traits that left me vulnerable in environments with high cognitive load and little recovery. That realisation changed how I understood safety and risk.
I came to see neuroinclusion as a safety issue, not a diversity initiative. If work systems only function when people mask, overextend, or absorb pressure quietly, they are not safe systems. My work now focuses on building neuroinclusive approaches within safety and governance, with an emphasis on practical changes to how work is structured, how decisions are made, and how pressure is managed.
Can you share an interesting or hopeful story where spending time with someone who did not look like you or who was different from you taught something that has been useful to you?
One experience that has stayed with me came from working closely with a colleague whose communication style was very different from mine. They were direct, minimal with words, and often took time before responding in meetings. Early on, that was interpreted by others as disengagement or resistance.
Because we worked together regularly, I started paying closer attention to how they processed information rather than how quickly they responded. What I noticed was that when they did speak, their contributions were well considered and often surfaced risks or implications the rest of the group had missed. They were not disengaged at all. They were thinking.
What changed for me was realising how easily we mistake difference for deficit. The environment rewarded fast responses and confidence, so anyone who did not perform those traits was assumed to be less capable. Once we adjusted how we worked, sharing information in advance, allowing written input, and not rushing decisions, that colleague’s strengths became obvious to everyone.
The lesson I took from that experience was simple but lasting. Inclusion is not about exposure to difference in a social sense. It is about changing the conditions so different ways of thinking can actually be seen and valued. That insight has directly shaped how I approach safety, leadership, and neuroinclusion, because many of the risks we miss come from filtering out voices that do not match a narrow idea of how competence should look.
You are a successful leader. Which three character traits do you think were most instrumental to your success? Can you please share a story or example for each?
I want to start by saying that I am cautious about this framing. Success is often explained through a list of personality traits, but that story usually reflects a very narrow, neurotypical idea of leadership. What actually mattered most for me were not polished traits, but ways of functioning that helped me survive and be effective in imperfect systems.
1. Persistence driven by responsibility, not passion
Persistence is often described as grit or motivation. For me, it came from necessity. After losing both my parents, self reliance was not optional. I learned to keep going because stopping was not safe. In my career, that showed up as staying with complex problems long after others disengaged. That persistence helped me navigate difficult environments, but it also taught me that endurance is often rewarded even when it hides systemic problems.
2. Systems thinking rather than personal performance
I have never succeeded by being the loudest voice or the most charismatic presence. What has mattered is my ability to see patterns, understand how pressure, decisions, and behaviour interact, and identify where systems are likely to fail. For example, I often noticed burnout, errors, or safety issues emerging long before they were formally recognised, because I was looking at workload, role clarity, and incentives rather than individual behaviour. That way of thinking is rarely labelled a leadership trait, but it has been central to my effectiveness.
3. Consistency over confidence
Confidence is often treated as essential for leadership. In my experience, consistency mattered more. Doing what I said I would do, being clear about limits, and making decisions that aligned with values even when they were uncomfortable built trust over time. One example was choosing to name burnout and psychosocial harm as system risks rather than personal issues. That approach was not always popular, but it created credibility and long term change.
If there is a takeaway, it is that success did not come from performing an ideal set of traits. It came from working in ways that allowed my strengths to be useful. When we only celebrate a narrow version of leadership, we miss the quieter qualities that actually sustain organisations.
Ok, thank you for that. Let’s now jump to the primary focus of our interview. Can you share a personal story that highlights the impact of diversity and inclusivity in your life or career?
One moment that really clarified the impact of diversity and inclusion for me came when I was working in a leadership role where the work itself was not changing, but how we worked did.
I had spent years adapting to environments that rewarded speed, confidence, and verbal dominance. I was capable and delivering results, but it required constant self monitoring, over preparation, and recovery outside of work just to stay functional. At the time, I did not have language for why that felt so costly. I just assumed that was the price of being competent.
The shift came when I worked in a team that unintentionally did a few things differently. Information was shared in advance. Decisions were written down. There was space to contribute outside of live meetings. None of this was framed as inclusion. It was just how the team operated. The difference for me was immediate. My thinking was clearer. My energy lasted longer. I stopped second guessing myself and started contributing more strategically rather than reactively.
What struck me was that nothing about my capability had changed. The environment had. The same person, doing the same work, performed very differently when the system stopped demanding constant adaptation.
That experience stayed with me. It showed me that inclusion is not about personality or confidence building. It is about removing barriers that never needed to be there in the first place. It also made it clear that when we design work to include a wider range of people, we do not just help those who struggle the most. We unlock better thinking, safer decisions, and more sustainable performance for everyone.
How do you approach and manage the challenges that arise when working towards creating more inclusive communities?
I approach those challenges by being very clear about what inclusion is and what it is not.
The biggest challenge is that inclusion is often treated as a belief or attitude problem, when in practice it is a design problem. People can agree with inclusion in principle and still operate systems that quietly exclude. So I start by shifting the conversation away from intent and towards impact. What is actually happening in the way work is structured, decisions are made, and pressure is distributed.
When resistance comes up, it is usually framed as practicality. Concerns about standards, efficiency, or fairness. I manage that by grounding the discussion in evidence and outcomes. Inclusive design is not about lowering expectations. It is about removing unnecessary barriers so capability can actually show up. When leaders see fewer errors, better decisions, and reduced burnout as a result of small changes, resistance tends to soften.
Another challenge is discomfort. Inclusion requires people to question norms they may have benefited from. I try to manage that by keeping the focus on systems rather than blame. The question is not who got it wrong, but what assumptions were built into the system and whether they still serve us. That makes the conversation safer and more constructive.
I also expect progress to be uneven. Cultural change does not happen in a straight line. Some teams move quickly, others need more time. I manage that by prioritising consistency over perfection. Small, repeatable changes that reduce cognitive load and increase clarity are more effective than grand gestures.
Ultimately, I approach inclusive community building the same way I approach safety. By treating it as ongoing work that requires attention, adjustment, and accountability, rather than a one off initiative.
What innovative strategies or initiatives have you implemented or observed that effectively promote the importance of diversity and inclusivity?
The most effective strategies I have implemented or observed are not flashy or branded as innovation. They are practical shifts that change how power, information, and pressure move through a system. That is where inclusion actually lives.
One of the most effective strategies has been embedding inclusion into safety and risk processes rather than treating it as a separate initiative. When workload, change fatigue, decision pressure, and burnout are assessed as psychosocial risks, inclusion becomes operational. It moves from values to controls. This approach reframes inclusion as prevention, not accommodation, and it immediately changes how leaders engage with it.
Another strategy is designing work for multiple modes of contribution. Instead of assuming that participation means speaking in meetings, organisations have introduced written input before and after discussions, asynchronous decision making, and shared documents as primary tools rather than backups. This consistently improves inclusion and decision quality, because it removes speed and confidence as gatekeepers to influence.
I have also seen strong results from normalising flexibility by default. When remote work, flexible hours, and quiet work time are treated as standard ways of working rather than exceptions, stigma disappears. People stop having to explain themselves, and managers stop acting as gatekeepers. This has been particularly important for neurodivergent employees, but it improves sustainability for everyone.
Another effective initiative is changing how leadership capability is assessed. Some organisations have deliberately shifted away from valuing presence, charisma, and verbal dominance, and instead assessed impact through outcomes, clarity, follow through, and risk management. This opens leadership pathways to people who think differently and reduces bias built into traditional leadership models.
Finally, I have seen the most progress where organisations measure inclusion through system outcomes, not sentiment alone. Tracking turnover, burnout patterns, rework, decision delays, and safety signals across different roles and groups makes inequity visible. Once leaders can see where the system consistently fails certain people, the case for inclusive redesign becomes hard to ignore.
What all of these strategies have in common is that they change the environment rather than trying to change people. That is where inclusion stops being aspirational and starts being real.
In your opinion, what are the key elements that make a community truly inclusive, and how can these be fostered on a larger scale?
In my view, a truly inclusive community is one where people do not have to constantly adapt themselves to belong. The key elements are not symbolic, they are structural.
The first element is clarity. Inclusive communities are explicit about expectations, norms, and decision making. When people have to infer unspoken rules, inclusion becomes selective. Clarity reduces power imbalances and makes participation safer for people who think, communicate, or process differently.
The second element is access. That includes physical access, but also cognitive, sensory, and social access. Communities that only work for people who are comfortable with noise, speed, ambiguity, or constant interaction are not inclusive. Access is fostered by offering multiple ways to engage, contribute, and lead, rather than privileging one style.
The third element is psychological safety. People need to be able to ask questions, express uncertainty, and say when something is not working without fear of judgement or exclusion. Psychological safety is not created through encouragement alone. It is built when leaders respond to feedback with adjustment rather than defensiveness.
Another key element is fair distribution of load. In many communities, inclusion relies on a small group of people doing extra emotional or cognitive labour to make things work. Truly inclusive communities notice where load accumulates and actively redistribute it, rather than praising quiet endurance.
Finally, inclusive communities are characterised by accountability. Inclusion is not left to goodwill. There are mechanisms to notice who is being excluded, who is burning out, and who is missing from decision making, and there is a willingness to change in response.
To foster these elements on a larger scale, we need to stop treating inclusion as a programme and start treating it as infrastructure. That means embedding it into governance, leadership development, safety, education, and policy design. When inclusion is built into the systems that shape everyday experience, it scales naturally. When it relies on individual effort or enthusiasm, it does not.
Ok super. Here is the main question of our interview. Based on your experience and research, can you please share “5 Ways We Can Build Inclusive Communities”? If you can, please share a story or an example for each.
Here are five practical ways we can build inclusive communities. None of these rely on good intentions alone. They focus on how communities are actually designed and governed.
1. Make expectations and decision making explicit
Inclusive communities reduce reliance on unspoken rules. When norms, roles, and decisions are implicit, only people who already understand the culture can participate fully.
For example, in safety and governance settings I have worked in, documenting how decisions are made and who has authority reduced conflict and exclusion. People no longer had to guess how to influence outcomes. This particularly supported neurodivergent members, but it also improved trust and transparency for the whole group.
2. Design multiple ways to participate
Communities often privilege one mode of participation, usually fast verbal contribution in meetings or public forums. That excludes people who process information differently.
I have seen communities become more inclusive simply by allowing written input, asynchronous discussion, or smaller group engagement alongside large meetings. When contribution is not limited to who speaks first or loudest, the quality and diversity of ideas improves noticeably.
3. Treat overload and burnout as system signals
Inclusive communities pay attention to who is struggling and ask why, rather than expecting people to cope quietly. When the same individuals are consistently exhausted or disengaging, that is a design issue.
In safety focused environments, reframing burnout as a risk signal rather than a personal issue led to changes in workload distribution and pacing. The result was not only better inclusion, but more sustainable participation and fewer failures over time.
4. Reduce the cost of difference
In many communities, inclusion depends on how much effort someone is willing to expend to fit in. Truly inclusive communities lower that cost.
Practical examples include predictable schedules, clear communication, sensory considerate spaces, and flexibility around how people engage. When difference does not require constant self adjustment, people are more likely to stay involved and contribute meaningfully.
5. Build accountability into the system
Inclusion does not last when it relies on individual goodwill. Communities that are genuinely inclusive pay attention to who is present, who is missing, and whose voices are influencing decisions.
I have seen inclusive practice strengthened when communities regularly review participation, leadership pathways, and attrition, and are willing to adjust in response. Accountability turns inclusion from an aspiration into something that is maintained over time.
Inclusive communities are built through structure, not slogans. When systems are designed to support clarity, access, and sustainability, inclusion becomes part of how the community functions, not something extra people have to fight for.
How do you measure the impact and success of diversity and inclusion efforts, and what changes have you seen as a result of these initiatives?
I measure the impact of diversity and inclusion efforts by looking at what changes in the system, not just what people say they value. Inclusion is successful when work becomes safer, clearer, and more sustainable over time.
One of the first things I look at is who stays and who leaves. Patterns in turnover, especially among neurodivergent people or those in high cognitive load roles, tell you far more than a single engagement survey. When inclusion improves, retention stabilises and people stop exiting roles because the cost of staying is too high.
I also look closely at burnout and workload indicators. That includes sick leave trends, patterns of overwork, and repeated errors or rework. When inclusive design is working, those indicators improve because people are no longer compensating for poor systems. Neurodivergent burnout in particular becomes less frequent and less severe when expectations and demands are better aligned.
Another key measure is decision quality and participation. I pay attention to whether more people are contributing to decisions, whether the same voices dominate less, and whether decisions are clearer and more durable. When inclusion improves, decision making becomes less reactive and less likely to be revisited.
Qualitative feedback still matters, but I use it in a targeted way. Instead of asking if people feel included in general, I ask practical questions about clarity, safety to speak up, and ability to work without constant adaptation. The answers tend to be much more actionable.
The changes I have seen when inclusion is embedded properly are not dramatic, but they are consistent. Less performative busyness. Fewer crises. More thoughtful work. People are clearer about boundaries and expectations, and trust increases because the system responds when issues are raised. That is how I know inclusion efforts are having real impact.
You are a person of great influence. If you could start a movement that would bring the most amount of good to the most amount of people, what would that be? You never know what your idea can trigger. 🙂
If I could start a movement, it would be one that shifts us away from celebrating endurance and towards designing systems that do not rely on people harming themselves to belong or succeed.
We have normalised the idea that being exhausted, constantly available, and emotionally stretched is a sign of commitment. That belief quietly excludes anyone whose nervous system, body, or life circumstances cannot sustain that pace. Neurodivergent people are often the first to fall out of these systems, but they are not the only ones paying the price.
The movement I would want to trigger is one where we ask better questions. Not “How much can people cope with?” but “What does this system demand, and who does it work for?” Where clarity, flexibility, and recovery are treated as markers of good design rather than concessions. Where burnout is seen as a system failure, not an individual weakness.
At a practical level, this would mean embedding inclusion into how work, education, and communities are structured. Clear expectations. Multiple ways to participate. Fair distribution of load. Accountability for who is missing from the room and why. These are not radical ideas, but they are still treated as optional.
If enough leaders and communities started designing for sustainability instead of survival, the impact would be far reaching. People would stay engaged longer. Decisions would improve. Trust would increase. Inclusion would stop being something we talk about and start being something people actually experience.
That is the movement I would want to see. One where we stop asking people to adapt endlessly, and start building systems that are fit for real humans.
How can our readers further follow you online?
Readers can follow my work and content across the following platforms:
Website: https://www.nicolaknobel.com
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/in/nicola.knobel/
LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/nicolaknobel/
YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@NikiKnobel?sub_confirmation=1
These are the main places where I share writing, speaking updates, and practical insights on neuroinclusion, safety, risk, and sustainable leadership.
Thank you for the time you spent sharing these fantastic insights. We wish you continued success in your great work!
Celebrating Diversity: Nicola Knobel On How To Build Inclusive Communities was originally published in Authority Magazine on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.