Looking Back on My GQ Speech in 2013: What Has Changed by 2026

When I look back at my speech at GQ’s 25th Anniversary Auction in 2013, it feels like I am looking at a different version of myself — and, in many ways, a different world.

At the time, standing on that stage felt almost impossible to comprehend. I was a young person who had already spent years being underestimated, years being told in different ways that I did not quite fit, that I was not quite what the system knew how to do with. To then find myself in a room full of influential people, speaking about my journey and the value of neurodiversity, felt surreal. It was emotional, affirming and deeply symbolic.

But when I reflect on that moment now, in 2026, what strikes me most is not just how far I had come personally. It is how much — and how little — has changed since then.

In 2013, neurodiversity was still barely part of the mainstream conversation

Back then, I felt as though I was saying something that many people in the room had not heard framed in quite that way before.

The idea that being different was not a deficit.

The idea that labels could be too limiting.

The idea that the people being written off by schools, workplaces and society might actually hold immense talent, innovation and value.

In 2013, neurodiversity was still far from a mainstream workplace conversation. Inclusion discussions existed, of course, but they were often much narrower. They focused more on visible forms of diversity, and when disability or neurodivergence did come up, it was often framed through charity, sympathy or adjustment as an afterthought.

What felt radical then was simply saying: these minds matter, not despite their differences, but because of them.

By 2026, the language has changed dramatically

One of the biggest differences now is visibility.

By 2026, the language of neurodiversity, neuroinclusion, reasonable adjustments, workplace needs assessments, accessible recruitment and psychological safety is far more widespread. Many organisations now recognise that different brains exist across every sector and level of work. More leaders know the terms. More HR teams have at least started thinking about what support should look like. More public conversations now acknowledge autism, ADHD, dyslexia, dyspraxia and other forms of neurodivergence without immediately reducing them to deficit.

That shift matters.

There are now conversations happening in boardrooms, schools, universities, media spaces and workplaces that simply were not happening in the same way in 2013. The fact that I now do this work full-time through Divergent Thinking is part of that broader shift too. There is more appetite now for challenging outdated assumptions and building systems that work better for different minds.

That is real progress.

But awareness has grown faster than understanding

This is the part I reflect on most.

If I compare 2013 to 2026, I can say with confidence that awareness has improved. But awareness and understanding are not the same thing.

In 2026, many employers now know the word “neurodiversity”. Many are keen to say the right thing. Many will proudly state that they value difference. But too often, when you look beneath the surface, their practical understanding is still shallow.

Managers may be positive but unsure.

Policies may sound inclusive but be hard to access.

Recruitment may use neuroinclusive language while still screening out difference in practice.

Support may still come too late.

Performance management may still confuse barriers with ability.

So yes, the conversation has moved. But in many spaces, it has moved faster in language than in implementation.

That is one of the reasons I care so much about turning ideas into practice through workplace assessments, training, strategy and speaking. We do not need more organisations that know the vocabulary but still operate in the same old way. We need deeper understanding.

In 2013, I was proving possibility. In 2026, I am trying to change systems

Looking back, I think one of the key differences in me is this:

In 2013, a lot of what I represented publicly was possibility.

I was the person standing there as evidence that someone who had been written off, underestimated and misunderstood could still achieve things that the system never imagined for them. That mattered, and it still matters. Representation matters. Story matters. People need to see what is possible.

But in 2026, I feel my role somewhat differently.

I am less interested in simply being the exception in the room. I am much more interested in changing the room.

I do not just want to tell a story that inspires people because one person made it through. I want to build conditions where fewer neurodivergent people have to fight that hard in the first place.

That is a different kind of mission. It is less about proving worth and more about redesigning systems so that worth does not keep getting missed.

The conversation has become more commercial — and that is not always a bad thing

Another major change since 2013 is that neurodiversity is now often talked about in business terms.

Back then, much of the argument had to begin with dignity: seeing people differently, moving beyond labels, recognising humanity. That still matters enormously. But by 2026, more employers are also asking about:

• innovation

• retention

• leadership

• team performance

• recruitment

• productivity

• culture

• strategy

In other words, more people now understand that neuroinclusion is not only a moral issue. It is also an organisational one.

That shift can be useful. It means the conversation is being taken seriously at levels where decisions get made. But it also carries a risk. Neurodiversity can become something companies want to “leverage” without always doing the slower, deeper work of understanding and support.

So I think we are in a more mature phase now — but also a more complicated one.

More people are speaking up now

This is one of the changes that gives me the most hope.

In 2013, a lot of neurodivergent people were still having to navigate these experiences with very little public language around them. Now, in 2026, many more people are identifying their own experiences, asking better questions and speaking openly about what they need.

There is more self-advocacy.

More peer community.

More visibility.

More challenge to stigma.

More refusal to accept deficit-only narratives.

That matters, because systems do not change only from the top down. They also change because people stop staying silent about what is not working.

But the cost of being misunderstood is still too high

For all the progress, this is the uncomfortable truth: too many neurodivergent people are still paying a very high price for environments that have not caught up.

People are still:

• being underestimated in education

• being screened out in recruitment

• being mismanaged at work

• being left without support until crisis point

• being told indirectly that difference is only welcome if it is convenient

• burning out trying to look “normal” enough to stay safe

This is why I cannot look back on 2013 and feel only celebratory. I do feel proud. I do feel grateful. But I also feel a renewed sense of responsibility.

Because the message I gave then is still unfinished work now.

My relationship to “normal” has changed too

In 2013, I think part of what I was doing on that stage was reclaiming a narrative. I was saying, in effect: you were wrong about me.

And that mattered. It still does.

But by 2026, I think my reflection has deepened.

I am less interested now in proving that I can succeed by conventional standards, and more interested in questioning why those standards were allowed to be so narrow in the first place. I care less about whether I fit someone else’s definition of impressive, and more about whether the work I do is helping create a world where fewer people have to spend years feeling broken before they are finally understood.

That feels like a more grounded kind of success.

What I would say to my 2013 self now

If I could speak to the version of me who stood on that GQ stage in 2013, I think I would say this:

You were right to believe that different is not deficient.

You were right to challenge the myth of normal.

You were right to keep speaking even when the world did not yet fully know how to hear it.

But I would also tell him this:

The conversation will grow.

More people will listen.

The words will become more mainstream.

And your role will change from proving that you belong, to helping build spaces where others do too.

That, to me, is one of the most meaningful changes between 2013 and 2026.

Final reflection

Looking back now, I see that speech not just as a milestone, but as an early marker in a much longer journey.

In 2013, I was speaking into a world that still had very little language for what I was trying to say. In 2026, the language is much more widespread — but the work of turning it into reality is still very much ongoing.

So yes, things have changed.

There is more awareness.

More openness.

More language.

More appetite for change.

But there is also still too much misunderstanding, too much box-ticking, too much lost talent and too many people trying to survive systems that should have evolved much faster by now.

That is why I still do this work.

And that is why moments like that GQ speech mean something different to me now. They are not just reminders of how far I have come. They are reminders of how much further we still have to go.

You can watch the original speech here: Nathaniel Hawley speaks at GQ’s 25th Anniversary Auction

And to explore more of my work through Divergent Thinking, visit divergentthinking.uk, read the blog, or learn more about workplace needs assessments