We recently hosted our first ever joint conference – ‘Best practice in non-animal research methods‘.  

I’m going to be honest – I was not looking forward to this conference. Not because I disliked the idea of our specific conference, but because conferences generally aren’t great places for autistic people. You’re being bombarded with stimulation from every side, your routine is totally broken, new people and social landmines to navigate, uncertainty around food – just to name a few things. It’s a lot. 

That’s why I tried to make sure we were making it accessible for as many people as possible with the resources we had. I didn’t want to be part of a conference where people felt there wasn’t space for them. 

We implemented small things like: 

• An online guide sent to all delegates in advance with info like how to actually reach the venue, 3D tours of the hotel so you could get used to the space, where check-in would be etc.  

• Guides to quiet spaces nearby.

• Recommended items to bring as we couldn’t provide sensory packs. 

• A sticker system at check-in to indicate your social comfort levels. 

I won’t lie – there was some eye-rolling and guffawing from delegates when I explained the sticker system… But there was also a lot of sparkly eyes and “Yes. Yes, I would like this very much.” 

What is the sticker system?

Green = I am here to socialise. Let’s be best friends. 

Amber = I am here to socialise, but let’s keep it to friendly colleagues.  

Red = I am here to learn. I’ll approach you if I’d like to, but I’m really just doing my own thing. 

Choose what suits you and pop it on your lanyard. Come back to reception if you want to change it at any point. 

Some people took multiple green stickers. Some people took yellow and green stickers. A few took yellow. No one took red (I would have if I was there as a delegate so shout-out to my fellow reds just trying to make their own way). 

Did it work?

At the end, we got so much feedback that this was the friendliest conference people had ever been to. 

People said how the guide set them in the right frame of mind beforehand. How the stickers actually made them take a second to think about really, how did they want to engage with the next few days?  

I also had a great time. I could vibe about the place with my loop plugs in, fidget toys everywhere, and people were just … really cool. To be frank: I still feel like I’m recovering from it, and it wasn’t an “easy” experience while I was there. But it was worthwhile, and I came away excited by some of the collaboration opportunities I’d found. 

 

So, this brings me back to what I believe is always going to be true: EVERYONE BENEFITS FROM ACCESSIBILITY. 

So, why don’t we talk about accessibility more?

Accessibility and disability are words that make people deeply uncomfortable. Why? Honestly, I don’t think people want to acknowledge how difficult the world is for a lot of people. It opens up a lot of messy conversations about equality of opportunity, silent labour, and, maybe, just maybe, how we could be accidentally enforcing some of those things that make the world unfriendly.

There’s a real stigma around accessibility and disability. People act like they’re not professional. If you’re in a job, you’re supposed to push through and never need any additional support that is deemed outside the “norm”. Take your pizza Friday and pool table and say thank you. 

But talking about these things doesn’t make a lot of us uncomfortable. Not talking about it makes us uncomfortable. The silence says we’re not worth including unless we’re willing to damage ourselves to fit inside a different shape. 

But what does any of this have to do with replacing animals in research?

Collaboration. Community. Mutual respect. Being able to turn up as you are. 

People with disabilities and accessibility needs have always existed, but we’ve been fenced out of large parts of society – including professional and academic areas. 

Here are (some of) my issues with this: 

• A simple, but important, one: It’s just not a very nice thing to do. No one wants to be on the outside, so why are we more than happy to leave other people there?
• We’re missing out on a lot of new perspectives and where they could lead us.
• Lived experience matters. Historically, medical research has been led by people who are not affected by what they’re researching in a direct way. Choose your favourite example here, really. For me, it’s always how little women have been involved in research into illnesses and diseases that predominantly affect women. 

You might have heard the phrase “nothing about us without us” in the arts, but I think it’s equally valuable to the sciences. 

By embracing accessibility, we’re not just being kinder; we’re unlocking a future of richer discoveries and a more vibrant scientific landscape. 

And a great first step, always, is asking questions, so I want to ask you: what steps can we each take to make the world of science even a little bit more accessible?