Correction note (August 23rd, 2026): This piece originally relied on the September 2025 judgment summary and contemporaneous press reporting. After a reader challenge, this piece has been amended against the full written Reasons (published 7 November 2025). The tribunal rejected the claim that Ms Hogger was routinely uncontactable; the judgment does identify practical steps, namely the ADHD coaching the employer never pursued; and first-instance decisions do not set binding precedent. The central argument stands — strengthened, in fact, by the tribunal’s own finding that her disorganisation was real and arose from her ADHD. Corrected case number: 3301581/2024.
The ruling that made describing behaviour legally risky
Earlier this week, Cambridge Employment Tribunal ruled that calling a colleague “disorganised” can amount to disability discrimination under UK employment law.
Nicole Hogger, a PR account manager diagnosed with ADHD in 2021, successfully sued Genesis PR (Genesis PLMR) for disability harassment, disability discrimination, and unfair constructive dismissal. She’s now in line for compensation.
Employment Judge Roger Tynan concluded that the comment was “undermining” and served to “highlight a negative aspect of her disability,” violating her dignity and creating an adverse environment.
The behaviour that prompted the “disorganised” comment: a pre-arranged in-person client meeting she’d become muddled about — believing it was online, dialling in, being told it was office-based, driving in, and arriving roughly forty minutes late. Her manager said she’d also raised occasions when colleagues couldn’t reach her — massages, Starbucks, the supermarket — but the tribunal found “very little evidence that the Claimant could not be contacted or that it was an issue,” and that the comment related primarily to the missed meeting. What the tribunal did find: her confusion over that meeting “reflected disorganisation that arose from her ADHD.” Hold onto that finding. It matters more than anything in the press coverage.
So, fine, I’ll ask the question nobody’s asking loudly enough. And don’t worry, I’ll ask several more further down the page.
When did accurate description of observable workplace behaviour become disability discrimination?
What if she didn't have ADHD?
I told you I’d ask them.
What if we remove the ADHD diagnosis, but keep every single behaviour identical. I’ll repeat them:
Myriad missed meetings; unreachable during contracted hours; forty minutes late despite reminders; colleagues having to oversee her work to ensure nothing gets missed; and critical deadlines approaching but “going dark.”
No diagnosis? No case. Zero legal liability for the employer. The behaviour doesn’t change. Nor does the performance gap or the impact on the colleagues covering the workload for an obvious weak-link in the chain. But the legal protection does.
Remove the diagnosis, and no legal protection. But put the ADHD label back — protected. THIS IS WHAT CREATES THE DIVIDE.
Between the protected and the unprotected. Between those who can deploy a diagnosis as a shield and those who can’t. Between those who think ADHD doesn’t even exist, and those who know it does. Between the neurodivergent and the neurotypical. And, the one most significantly impacted by this case: between the neurodivergent employees and the employers who have just been given yet another reason to avoid them entirely. Therefore, this goes beyond idealistic neuroinclusion speak or even pragmatic talk of neurodiversity in the workplace.
And look — I’m not criticising Nicole for playing the game. If I had the same hand, I’d probably play it too. I’ve a natural predisposition not to engage in games I can’t win, and to fully commit to those I might, especially when winning involves a disproportionate outcome. Because, quite frankly, I’m not a fool.
She recognised which game she could win. And fair play for that. But the game itself? That’s beyond broken. And only has itself to blame.
The performance gap nobody's discussing
Let’s examine what actually happened at Genesis PR, because the tribunal documents reveal a pattern that should make everyone uncomfortable — not because of Nicole specifically — in fact, forget the man entirely from here on, and focus on the ball — because of what this means structurally.
Nicole joined in October 2018 as a senior PR account executive and got promoted to account manager in 2020 based on effective work thanks to a member of the senior leadership team who actively championed her promotion.
Then, in early 2022, managers noticed she was “anxious” and struggling with workload. One email stated: “Nicole seems to be slipping behind with work again.”
A colleague noted their workload was getting heavier because they had to “oversee” Nicole’s work to ensure nothing was missed.
Her line manager, Alison Straker, responded by talking with Nicole and redistributing some of her workload to colleagues. Nicole felt “a weight had been lifted.”
That’s accommodation already happening. Informally, yes, but it’s accommodation nonetheless. But then she began missing calls. And by October 2022, a senior accounts manager reported Nicole had “gone dark again” and wasn’t communicating when critical work was due. This led to Ms Straker calling this “not good enough.”
The employer’s version — that she was routinely out at massages, Starbucks and the supermarket while uncontactable — was put to the tribunal and rejected on the evidence. What the record does show is the documented 2022 pattern: “slipping behind,” “gone quiet again,” colleagues tracking her work to ensure nothing was missed. That pattern is real, and it’s enough. The case doesn’t need the tabloid version. But back to the timeline of events:
This led colleagues — not management, but peers carrying her workload — to think she was “disorganised or uncommitted.” The tribunal noted that Nicole’s ADHD “was not brought up” in these conversations. But here’s the thing: Nicole never provided her diagnosis report to her employers. She mentioned the diagnosis to Ms Straker in 2021, but the formal medical documentation — which stated she presents “poor organisation, forgetfulness and difficulty getting started on tasks requiring significant mental effort” — was never actually shared with the employer.
So how can the employer have made reasonable adjustments or taken the formal ADHD diagnosis (label) into account when they were not given the appropriate medical documentation for that, and was designed to inform on what those adjustments should, or could, be?
When accommodation becomes discrimination
I laid out the timeline not because I’m covering the story (honestly, I really wanted to avoid this one, as I watched it play out from start to finish) but because this is where the timeline matters.
By this point, Nicole’s line manager had already reduced her workload. Colleagues were already covering her tasks. Supportive conversations had happened. The company wasn’t ignoring the issue, let alone being hostile in any way.
But the performance gaps continued. So, Ms Straker planned to implement a performance improvement plan to get things on track. Standard management practice when informal support hasn’t resolved ongoing issues. As an employer of exclusively neurodivergent talent in the past, this is the exact path I have walked myself.
The next day, Nicole resigned, with her resignation letter stating she “strongly felt it was time for her to take a new path and continue her professional development elsewhere.”
And back in the courts (where this ended up, unfortunately for the employer) Employment Judge, Roger Tynan, concluded that Genesis PR “did not consider Nicole’s ADHD” and that there “was little, if anything” she could “usefully do” with the feedback she was given. There were no “practical steps” made by the company “to avoid a similar situation arising in the future.”
And to be fair to Tynan — having now read the full written Reasons rather than the reporting — he does answer this: pursue the occupational-health-recommended ADHD coach the company never once followed up on, and work the signed-off PDR objectives rather than escalate to a PIP. Whether that answer scales beyond this case is a different question, and it’s the one that should worry employers.
Workload had been reduced. Colleagues were supporting. Conversations were happening. The diagnosis had been mentioned informally but not formally documented with the available medical evidence with its available information on reasonable adjustments and recommended accommodations.
The ruling positions a performance improvement plan — a structured framework to identify specific issues and create measurable goals — as discriminatory.
If that’s true — and not “legally” true, but actually true, which you don’t need to be a Mensa member to know it is absolutely not — then what mechanism exists for addressing genuine performance gaps in neurodivergent employees? Or are employers meant to just let them drift, pulling down the company, for fear of addressing it in the “wrong” way? Or do they just avoid hiring neurodivergent talent entirely? Ah. Probably. Sigh…
The diagnostic shield and the ripple effects from people using it
Here’s what this ruling actually establishes: a diagnosis transforms observable behaviour from “performance issue” to “disability characteristic,” making any attempt to address it legally risky.
The word “disorganised” — an accurate descriptor of what colleagues were experiencing, and what the individual was presenting — became evidence of harassment because it “highlighted a negative aspect of her disability.”
Let the implications of that sink in for a moment, if you can.
If describing the actual manifestation of executive function difficulties is discriminatory, what language can managers use? “Occasionally experiences challenges with time management”? “Sometimes finds communication consistency difficult”?
Why is there always some bullshit dance around the direct truth invoked as the only “right” way forward?
The progressive framing wants you to believe this ruling protects neurodivergent workers from ableist language. But look at the incentive structure it creates, and you’ll see right through it.
For employers: Disclosed neurodivergent workers become litigation risks. Not because of their capabilities, but because addressing performance gaps — even with informal accommodation already in place — can be reframed as disability discrimination. The rational response then isn’t “be more accommodating” but “don’t hire disclosed neurodivergent people, or those you think might be one underneath a mask.”
For neurodivergent workers: The message is clear — your diagnosis is a label that can transform into a shield whenever consequence of character can be deemed injustice (not the justice it actually is) because of a broken “progressive” system hellbent on making a fool of itself at every chance it gets; not a diagnostic threshold to cross for self-awareness. Don’t develop sovereignty over your executive function challenges. Instead, deploy legal protection when feedback inevitably comes knocking.
For colleagues: Watching someone miss deadlines, go unreachable during work hours, and arrive late to meetings while you cover their workload — and being told that describing this accurately violates their dignity — all while knowing you wouldn’t be able to get away with doing the same yourself, does not create “inclusive” environments. On the contrary. It seeds resentment and bitterness. It’ll lead to people thinking they’ve made their minds up on certain types of people, if they hadn’t done that already.
This may have been a win for Nicole Hogger, but this is far from a win for neurodivergent employment inclusion, of which the statistics show is already in a dire place. Unfortunately, it’s just further ammunition for systemic exclusion, passed through our legal system under the guise of progress and, abhorrently, justice for the disabled/neurominorities.
The sovereignty question nobody asked
Nicole set up her own business after leaving Genesis PR. This detail matters more than the (embarrassing, if I’ve not my stance clear already) tribunal acknowledged.
She didn’t go to another PR agency where she’d face the same structural demands. Instead, she opted to create her own structure where she controls the schedule, the client load, the communication expectations, and the operational framework. Again, not knocking this fact, or her — this is what I did, kind of; you get my point.
That’s sovereignty. That’s a neurodivergent person recognising the environment was incompatible and building something that works for how their nervous system operates.
And it actually suggests something crucial: she didn’t need “protected feedback language” or tribunal intervention. She needed structural autonomy in the first place, which is what she was exercising every time she went for a massage or to Starbucks.
The legal win might deliver compensation. But it doesn’t solve the actual problem — that traditional employment structures are often fundamentally incompatible with how ADHD attention architecture functions.
Which brings us back to the framework I’ve been hammering since I started writing about neurodiversity: accommodation is an alibi that allows the abdication of responsibility to the actual mammalian incompatibility with standardised reality. Neurodivergent, or not.
This is why the neurodivergent are simply the canaries in the coal mine.
The accommodation model positions adjustments as charitable exceptions rather than operational standards. It requires disclosure (which this case proves is legally advantageous to the employer but, at the same time, practically risky regardless and employers remain vulnerable in spite of not receiving a formal one with documentation). It forces neurodivergent workers to out themselves, justify their needs, and trust that the information won’t tank their careers. All while, I imagine, hoping their employer is oblivious to this case that has unfolded over the last few weeks while being heavily reported by mainstream media.
Ultimately, she tried to operate within their structure. It didn’t work. She left and built her own. And has proven that the “disorganisation” (me using an accurate description, not hostile or discriminating language) is not default to her character, but only default to her behaviour when in typical structure.
THAT was/is the solution. Not litigation. Not protected language. And certainly not making “disorganised” illegal to say.
Honestly, I can’t believe I’m writing some of the things I’m writing, some times, like this time.
When the system bends to ideology, calling it justice and an honest day's work...
The Cambridge tribunal didn’t just rule in Nicole’s favour. It established, publicly no less, that describing observable behaviour constitutes harassment if that behaviour comes from someone with a diagnosed condition.
Let’s be clear about what that means.
The “disorganised” comment didn’t come from management weaponising disability language. It came from colleagues describing what they were experiencing while covering her workload. The tribunal ruled that their accurate observation “violated her dignity.”
This isn’t justice. It’s ideological capture of the legal system. Because the ruling doesn’t distinguish between:
1 — Malicious use of disability-related language to demean someone, with intent;
or
2 — Accurate description of behaviour patterns that create operational challenges.
For the record, the signal is sent — first-instance decisions bind nobody, but they’ll sit in every HR adviser’s briefing by Monday morning.
The progressive diversity industry, and the justice system clearly drunk on ideology, will either be turning a blind eye to the actual realities under the surface of this ordeal, or somehow celebrating this as a win for neurodivergent workers by, say, framing the whole thing as employers being held accountable (“long overdue!”) for ableist language and discriminatory practices.
But they won’t address the structural consequences that leave employers further disoriented as to what’s asked of them.
The deaf leading the blind comes to mind.
They won’t explain how employers should manage genuine performance gaps in neurodivergent employees if describing the manifestation of executive function difficulties is discriminatory.
They won’t acknowledge that this ruling makes disclosed neurodivergent workers more expensive and legally risky to employ, which will reduce hiring and promoting rather than increasing it.
They won’t interrogate whether removing all descriptive feedback language actually helps neurodivergent people develop the self-awareness and compensatory strategies required for employment success.
Because that’s not the point, is it? Obviously not. The point is expanding protected characteristics, increasing litigation opportunities, and positioning diagnosis as a shield rather than a data point of information.
What this ruling actually does to neurodivergent workers
I’m AuDHD. Diagnosed at 21. I’ve navigated employment as a non-disclosed neurodivergent person, and a disclosed neurodivergent person without the formal documentation (like Nicole). I’ve experienced the accommodation alibi first-hand — policies that claim inclusion and HR/Ops that think they stand on moral and progressive high ground while in actuality delivering abandonment by proxy of non-existent or ambiguous processes they know nobody will use.
So, in my final assessment, I’ll be characteristically direct about what this ruling actually means for us: the (known or not-known; diagnosed or undiagnosed; and disclosed or not-disclosed) neurodivergent.
It doesn’t make workplaces more inclusive. It makes us legally risky.
It doesn’t create better feedback mechanisms. It removes feedback entirely, because anything specific enough to be useful is now potentially discriminatory and can come back to bite.
It doesn’t build sovereignty for the individual. It positions us as fragile, litigious, and requiring protection from accurate observation; while entrenching the typical system — and those that are agreeable and complicit, and thrive in them — further inwards.
It doesn’t address the actual structural incompatibility between traditional employment frameworks and neurodivergent and general human-mammalian operating systems.
What it does do: make employers more nervous about hiring neurodivergent workers, make colleagues more resentful of accommodation that isn’t reciprocal and earned, and make it harder for neurodivergent people to receive the honest feedback required in the first place that’s paramount for developing compensatory strategies.
Nicole won her case, and she’ll get her nut. And thanks to Roger Tynan, the ruling now shapes employer risk appetite regardless of the fact it binds no future tribunal.
But outside of one individual, have the employed neurodivergent population collectively won anything, or got anything at all to celebrate here?
Or did we just hand employers another reason to avoid us entirely while the diversity industry profits from the propagation of progressiveness that results in this expanding litigation landscape they’ve created?
The tribunal ruled that “disorganised” violates dignity — which it demonstrably didn’t in Nicole’s case, which is why her case is clearly being used to set an example. When the only thing actually violating any dignity here is a system that treats neurodivergent adults as incapable of receiving accurate feedback about our behaviour and developing our own strategies to address it.
Sovereignty isn’t built through protected language. It’s built through honest feedback, self-awareness, and human-to-human relationships that allow for the blossoming of interdependent, reciprocal, and trusted structural autonomy — hierarchical, or not.
The rest of the employed neurodivergent population are now left navigating a legal landscape where presenting actual challenges of reality, and allowing them to be discussed candidly, has become discrimination — which doesn’t help anyone build coherence, it just paints “employ at your peril” on foreheads.
There is no progress to be found here, yet again in spite of the ideology. There’s just yet another new alibi for incoherent collective consciousness dynamics and systemic exclusion, wrapped in the language of inclusion.
I’ll be back again next week with some brighter words!
Citations
Cambridge Employment Tribunal — Hogger v Genesis PR Ltd (Case No: 3301581/2024)
