Job interviews have always felt like an impossible game to me—one with rules no one bothered to explain, expectations that shifted without warning, and a heavy emphasis on artificial performance over actual ability. Even before I was diagnosed as autistic, I struggled to understand what made an interview “good.” I’d analyze past experiences, adjust my approach, and still find that what worked in one interview failed in the next.

Now, I understand that my struggles weren’t personal failings—they resulted from an unspoken, exclusionary system that values charm over competence. Autistic people are chronically under or unemployed, though studies have shown that there is a strong desire to find full-time employment.

Because society as a whole has such a terrible understanding of autism and what it looks like, these symptoms of a disability and behaviors that stem from these symptoms aren’t seen that way, nor are they protected or accommodated in a business environment.

Instead, they’re seen as anti-social behavior or “not a culture fit.” This means that even when I’m just as qualified as other candidates, I’m the one passed up because someone else was better at first-impression schmoozing. I’ve lost track of the number of times I’ve come in 2nd in the running for a job because the other person just “clicked better.”

And even though these issues disproportionately affect disabled people, it isn’t seen as a discriminatory practice. Judging people looking for a job based on arbitrary conclusions drawn from one interaction with them is perfectly normal in hiring practices. Even companies that proudly declare, “We encourage people from marginalized groups to apply for our jobs!” will do this because society puts moral bearing on these behaviors, as if people who can’t pretend to be your best friend the first time you meet them are somehow “unfit” for office culture.

The uselessness of these contrived hurdles only becomes more exaggerated when you look at how well it works as an indicator of successfulness in the actual job. I’ve never had a job where I wasn’t successful. I’m always among the most productive and hardest working. In fact, multiple jobs ended up needing more than one person to replace me after I left because they couldn’t find any one person who could take on all of the work I did. And I often end up being the default “office therapist” in my jobs because people feel comfortable coming to me with their issues or just to vent. Because while I’m not good at timed, high-stakes, and disingenuous first impressions, I am good at making real connections with people in natural environments.

So if these sorts of unspoken tests built into our hiring practices aren’t there to screen out people who will be bad at the job or people will be bad at getting along with their coworkers, then what are they for? Who are they serving? The truth is, they only serve to maintain a status quo in which only certain people are welcomed into a work environment.

If hiring practices were truly about finding the best person for the job, they wouldn’t rely so heavily on arbitrary social interactions that reward confidence over capability. The reality is these unwritten rules don’t just filter out autistic people—they disproportionately harm disabled people, women, and minorities, all of whom are more likely to be judged on perceived “fit” rather than qualifications.

Despite the ongoing political backlash against DEI initiatives, employers should not be allowed to deny jobs to qualified candidates based on personal biases disguised as “culture fit.” The expectation that all good workers must be smooth-talking, high-energy extroverts is outdated and harmful. Until we dismantle these artificial barriers, workplace discrimination will continue to thrive under the guise of “just the way things are.”