Why neuro-inclusive travel is really about better journey design

Ian Jones is a consultant at advisory, marketing and communications company temoji and has more than 30 years' experience in corporate travel and events. His research, Calm in Motion: The Case for Neuro-Inclusive Business Travel, can be read here.

In October last year, while moderating a panel on neurodivergence at a TMC client event, I found myself confronting an uncomfortable truth. For all the industry discussion on accessibility, we still know remarkably little about how business travel actually feels for neurodivergent travellers, a group far larger, more varied, and more invisible than most of us appreciate. That moment forced a shift in my own thinking.

I’ve lived with dyslexia for decades. I was diagnosed with ADHD earlier this year. My son is autistic. Yet despite the personal relevance, I had never fully considered how the structures of corporate travel perform for people whose cognitive experience of the world differs sometimes subtly, sometimes profoundly.

So I set out to understand it. Over ten months, I interviewed neurodivergent business travellers, gathered quantitative data and analysed friction points across the trip lifecycle. The resulting paper, Calm in Motion, is not a manifesto. Rather, it is an evidence-led exploration of where current travel design falls short, not through intent, but through omission.

My research revealed something important: The barriers that neurodivergent travellers face are neither niche nor isolated. In fact, they expose systemic weaknesses that affect everyone.

The real issue is not visibility, but invisibility

The starting point is disclosure. Birkbeck University research shows that 65 per cent of neurodivergent employees do not disclose at work. The reasons are predictable: stigma, misunderstanding, and a fear – justified or not – that disclosure will change how colleagues perceive them.

This has consequences. If most neurodivergent travellers remain invisible within their organisations, the industry cannot rely on identification, flagging, or tailored programmes to reach them. Instead, suppliers and travel managers must assume their presence and design accordingly.

This led to a simple realisation: If we want to improve travel for neurodivergent people, we must build solutions that work without someone ever needing to raise their hand. When you do that, you tend to produce better outcomes for everyone else, too.

The friction tells the story

The study's data made this clear: 58 per cent of respondents cited delays, changes or cancellations as their most significant stress point. Interrogating the responses, a pattern emerged. It was not the disruption itself that caused the most significant difficulty. It was the lack of clarity.

One respondent wrote: “It’s the not knowing.” Another described a complete loss of cognitive capacity when a connection was cancelled without clear next steps. A dyslexic traveller discussed the compounding impact of last-minute gate changes. Someone else said they always arrived excessively early to avoid “the chaos of uncertainty”.

These reactions differ in cause, but not in nature. Uncertainty erodes capacity. For neurodivergent travellers, that impact can be sharper, but the underlying flaw is universal.

Who is getting this right?

A theme across the research was that strong examples already exist. They just aren’t usually labelled as “neuro-inclusive”.

United Airlines received repeated praise for its approach to accessible travel, from rehearsal days with autistic travellers to an app that offers real-time information, baggage tracking and TSA wait estimates.

Uber surfaced frequently as a model of autonomy: transparent pricing, live tracking, precise driver details and intuitive flows that give travellers agency at every stage.

And Hyatt, which presented its autism-focused initiatives at the GBTA Convention in Denver this year, demonstrated what operational empathy can look like in practice: staff training, sensory awareness, communication techniques and property-level adjustments that help guests regulate and prepare.

These organisations are not solving for a single condition. They are designing for variability and, in doing so, producing more resilient traveller experiences.

Three pillars, one direction

Across the data, three recurrent needs emerged. Firstly, predictability:clear, timely information; reduced ambiguity; visibility of next steps. Secondly, autonomy:tools and choices that allow travellers to control their environment and make informed decisions. Lastly, empathy: human understanding is built into communication, responses, and service interactions.

Individually, these are not new ideas. Collectively, they represent a design framework that aligns with how modern travellers, not just neurodivergent ones, navigate complexity. If you build around uncertainty, you reduce the friction for all. If you give people control, you expand their confidence. If you communicate with care, you strengthen trust. These are commercial levers as much as cognitive ones.

Design for difference and benefit everyone

The business travel industry is entering a period defined by fragmentation, heightened traveller expectations, and the collision of human experience with AI-enabled systems. Neurodivergent travellers sit at the extreme edge of that curve, and what we learn from them can be applied to the centre.

The research reinforced a simple, pragmatic truth: When you design for people who face the most significant friction, you elevate the journey for everyone.

This isn’t about specialist programmes or diagnostic pathways. It’s about building travel experiences that perform under pressure, communicate clearly and adapt to diverse minds. Predictability, autonomy and empathy are not “accommodations” – they’re future-proofing. And if we get them right, business travel becomes not only more inclusive, but materially, measurably better.