How to Design for Neurodiverse Audiences
Designing with accessibility in mind isn’t just about screen readers and alt text (though those matter too). It’s about making sure people can actually use and enjoy the stuff we put out into the world—especially people who process information differently. That includes folks with ADHD, autism, dyslexia, and other neurodivergent conditions who often get left behind by design that’s too noisy, too vague, or just plain confusing.
But here’s the thing: inclusive design isn’t “special.” It’s just good design. And when you make content easier for neurodiverse people to navigate, you usually make it better for everyone else too. Let’s talk about what that actually means—without making your eyeballs glaze over.
So, what does “designing for neurodiversity” even mean?
It means recognizing that not everyone sees, understands, or engages with content the same way. Neurodivergent people might have different sensory preferences, attention spans, or cognitive patterns. Some might struggle with visual clutter. Others might miss meaning that isn’t made explicit. And some might thrive when things are structured and consistent. Your job as a designer isn’t to assume or diagnose—it’s to create stuff that works, even if someone’s brain doesn’t process it the way yours does.
Common pitfalls
Let’s get a few things out of the way:
Overwhelming visuals: Yes, you love that neon gradient on a glitchy typeface over a busy background. No, it’s not helping anyone read your message.
Walls of text: Paragraphs that go on forever without clear structure are basically a cognitive maze.
Inconsistent navigation or layout: If people have to relearn how to use your interface every time they move to a new page, they’re gone.
Unclear hierarchy: If everything is emphasized, nothing is. Design needs to guide the eye, not confuse it.
What good design for neurodiverse audiences actually looks like
Here’s where we start doing things better.
1. Keep things clear—visually and conceptually
Clarity doesn’t mean “dumbed down.” It means being intentional. Use whitespace to let content breathe. Use headings that actually tell people what the section is about. Make buttons look like buttons. Avoid metaphor soup. Neurodivergent users often prefer things to be straightforward and literal—so “click here” is fine, but “join the adventure” might be confusing.
2. Design for focus, not distraction
People with ADHD, for example, can get easily derailed by shiny things—and I say that with deep affection. Flashing GIFs, autoplay videos, or seven different font styles on one screen? That’s a sensory rollercoaster. Try a calmer approach: consistent font pairings, limited color palettes, and minimal movement unless it’s actually functional.
3. Support visual processing styles
Some people rely heavily on visual learning, others need text, and some prefer both. Offer multiple ways to digest the same content. Icons alongside labels. Captions with videos. Visual diagrams with descriptive text. It’s not about dumbing down—it’s about meeting people where they are.
4. Consistency = kindness
Having a strong visual system with repeatable layout patterns helps reduce cognitive load. That means using the same buttons, menu placement, and visual rhythm across your materials. Predictability is a form of accessibility. And no, that doesn’t mean boring—it just means coherent.
5. Color and contrast are not decorations
Color shouldn’t be the only way you communicate information. That “click the red button” instruction is useless if someone can’t see red properly (colorblindness is common). Also, check your contrast. Light gray text on a white background is not design—it’s passive-aggressive.
It’s Not About “Fixing” People
Inclusive design isn’t about designing “for the poor souls who can’t keep up.” It’s about realizing that we’re all on the spectrum somewhere—and when we design with empathy and clarity, everyone benefits. Neurotypical or not. And if you’re wondering whether this means making your work “less creative,” the answer is absolutely not. You can be expressive and inclusive. In fact, creating smart, accessible design within constraints is a sign of true skill—not a limitation.
Last but Not Least: What to Do Next
If you’re building a website or brand materials and want to make sure your visual content is inclusive (and beautiful), I can help you get it right from the start. I build thoughtful, accessible designs that actually work for real humans.
And if you’re a designer looking for tools to make your work more neurodiversity-friendly, poke around my shop. I’ve got flexible templates that are 100% customizable and don’t look like they came from a sad PowerPoint in 2006.
