Conflict Resolution Through Removal vs. Repair: Autistic and Neurotypical Perspectives

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Last update 24 Jun 2025
Reading time 34 mins

⚠️ Blog Editors Note / Disclaimer This article is not part of my field of studies or research. It emerged out of a simple discussion which lead to this small summary. While I am not a medical expert, this summary has been edited to the best of my ability.

Interpersonal conflicts can be handled through either relationship repair (open discussion, compromise, and mutual understanding) or relationship removal (distancing or ending the relationship). In contemporary Western societies, anecdotal observations and emerging research suggest that many neurotypical adults often favor the removal/avoidance strategy over direct repair. This tendency is evident in adult friendships, romantic relationships, and even professional settings, where uncomfortable conversations are sidestepped in favor of “moving on.” Autistic adults, on the other hand, frequently report a contrasting approach: they crave directness, resolution of misunderstandings, and continuity in their relationships. To autistic people, the neurotypical pattern of conflict avoidance and social cut-offs can be baffling or even cruel. This essay explores five interrelated claims about these patterns:

Academic literature in psychology and sociology, along with neurodiversity research and select first-person accounts, will be used to evaluate these claims. Finally, we will briefly consider how these differing conflict-resolution preferences manifest in workplace dynamics.

Neurotypical Conflict Avoidance: Preferring Removal Over Repair

A growing body of evidence suggests that many neurotypical individuals in Western cultures default to conflict avoidance strategies that effectively remove or distance the other person, rather than engaging in the hard work of repairing the relationship. One prominent example is the phenomenon of ghosting - abruptly cutting off communication with someone without explanation. Ghosting has become strikingly common in modern dating and friendships: a 2019 study noted that a large proportion of young adults have experienced ghosting in a romantic context[17]. In fact, ghosting has become so ingrained that many millennials and Gen Z view it as a normal, routine way to end casual relations; after only a brief acquaintance, “ghosting” might be shrugged off as just another style of communication in the texting era[1]. The shift to digital communication - dating apps, social media - has reduced the social accountability that once pressured people to confront breakups or conflicts directly[1]. Without those frictions, simply disappearing from someone’s life can feel easier and is increasingly (albeit begrudgingly) accepted.

Importantly, this preference for removal over repair tends to surface in emotionally charged or ambiguous situations - precisely when open dialogue would be most beneficial. Research on ghosting finds that the most common motive reported is plain conflict avoidance: many people so deeply dread an uncomfortable confrontation or “messy” emotional conversation that they choose to cut off contact instead[1]. Avoiding the dreaded talk feels like the “path of least resistance”[1]. By never sending the difficult text or by simply fading away, the person can sidestep immediate guilt, anger, or tears. In their minds, “silence feels easier than an honest rejection”[1]. This approach allows one to “let themselves off the hook” without having to acknowledge any wrongdoing or engage in a tense discussion[1]. In short, many neurotypical adults cope with interpersonal friction by withdrawing - whether it’s ending a friendship after a disagreement, ignoring a friend’s calls after an awkward incident, or ghosting a dating partner when romantic interest wanes. The underlying logic is to remove the source of conflict (the person or relationship) rather than work through the discomfort.

Notably, such avoidance behaviors are reinforced by certain personality and situational factors. People with avoidant attachment styles, for instance, are predisposed to withdraw when relationships get too emotionally intimate; ghosting is magined to offer a convenient way to preserve distance and the illusion of “emotional safety”[1]. Even those with anxious attachment (who fear rejection) might ghost preemptively when their insecurity is triggered, effectively abandoning the relationship out of self-protection[1]. More generally, the prevalence of indirect breakup strategies (like ghosting, slow-fading, or giving the “silent treatment”) in Western culture highlights a reluctance to engage in direct communication when feelings are at stake. While open confrontation can resolve issues, it carries the risk of immediate emotional turmoil. Many find it psychologically easier to avoid and move on, hoping the conflict will simply dissipate with distance.

However, conflict-avoidant removal has significant costs. Avoiding direct resolution cuts off honest communication, often leaving the underlying issues unresolved[2,3]. The person who is “cut off” is denied continuity, which can lead to confusion, hurt, and lingering distrust. For the remover, too, there may be long-term consequences: by never learning to face conflict, they risk repeating the same patterns and failing to develop deeper, resilient relationships. Interestingly, one study found that ghosting friends - as opposed to ghosting casual dates - was associated with increased depressive symptoms in the ghoster over time, suggesting that socially cutting off close friends can backfire on the well-being of the one doing the ghosting[4]. In sum, while many neurotypical Westerners habitually opt to remove people from their lives to avoid conflict, this strategy provides short-term relief at the expense of communication, understanding, and long-term social support.

The “Replaceable Relationship” Mindset

Underpinning the cut-and-run approach is a broader cultural belief that what (or who) is lost will be readily replaced by something better. In other words, many operate under the assumption that after removing a person from one’s life, a new friend, partner, or social connection will eventually fill the void - perhaps even an improvement over the last. This “grass is greener” mentality is particularly evident in modern dating. With the advent of dating apps and endless online social options, individuals are constantly exposed to alternative partners. Psychologists note that this abundance of choice can foster a social-comparison mindset: it’s easy to believe there might always be someone “better” out there, which breeds impatience with any current relationship’s imperfections[1]. When even minor conflicts or flaws arise, a person steeped in this mentality may decide it’s not worth the trouble to repair the relationship - they bail out and swipe forward in pursuit of the next exciting match[1]. The implicit bias is that relationships are disposable; instead of working through issues, one can discard the current connection and try again with a presumably better fit.

This replaceability belief is often reinforced by implicit theories of relationships. Research by Freedman and colleagues (2019) distinguishes between “growth” beliefs (relationships evolve through effort and can overcome challenges) and “destiny” beliefs (partners are either meant to be or not, and if problems arise, it’s a sign the pairing is not destined)[17]. Individuals high in destiny beliefs - who see relationship success as a matter of fate - are significantly more likely to view ghosting or sudden break-ups as acceptable[17]. If one believes that a relationship that requires hard work simply isn’t “the right one,” then cutting someone off feels justified: there’s no point in repairing something that isn’t fated, and one might as well be free to find their true match[1]. In practice, this translates to a bias that something better will come along. Indeed, studies have found that people who endorse strong destiny beliefs are more prone to ghost partners, precisely because they assume that conflict indicates a fundamental incompatibility[1].

Culturally, Western individualism and consumer-style dating encourage this outlook. The suggested ease of meeting new people online or connecting with new social circles makes each connection feel less consequential - if one friend or partner is lost, another can be “acquired.” One dating app user candidly admitted that early on, “they are still just a profile to you, not a person. I don’t feel the normal empathy I would for someone I met organically.”[1]. This mild dehumanization, combined with abundant alternatives, lowers the barrier to abandoning a relationship. Ghosting thus becomes normalized because commitment itself feels tentative and interchangeable[1]. The belief in ready replacements can blind people to the real emotional and social consequences of removal. It glosses over the fact that deep relationships - the kind that cannot be instantly replaced - require investment and sometimes repair. By assuming “there’s always someone else”, individuals may fail to recognize the systemic cost of serially discarded relationships: a pattern of superficial connections, unresolved emotional baggage, and potentially a growing sense of loneliness or mistrust in others. In summary, a widespread bias in Western neurotypical culture is to treat relationships as fungible. This belief supports the removal-over-repair approach by suggesting that losses are easily offset by new gains, thereby downplaying the value of working through conflicts in existing relationships.

Apparent Lack of Empathy: Emotional Avoidance vs. Psychopathy

To many autistic individuals (and indeed to anyone on the receiving end of a sudden cut-off), the neurotypical habit of ghosting or cutting people off in lieu of honest communication can appear shockingly devoid of empathy. Autistic observers often express that such behavior feels “psychopathic” or narcissistic - as if the person doing the cutting-off has no regard for the feelings or pain of the other. It is easy to see why: ghosting, for example, delivers a blow of rejection with no explanation or closure, leaving the ghostee hurt and confused. From the outside, the ghoster’s indifference to this outcome can resemble a callous lack of empathy or even a “Dark Triad” trait (psychopathy or narcissism). In fact, some research suggests that individuals high in certain dark personality traits are more inclined to ghost precisely because they lack empathy[5]. Popular commentary also reflects this view - relationship experts have labeled ghosting and similar behaviors “callous, selfish, empathy-lacking approaches” to relationships[6]. In other words, the person who habitually cuts others off might be seen as cold-hearted, unwilling to consider the emotional impact on the person being removed.

However, psychology research indicates that for the majority of people, behaviors like ghosting are not driven by outright malice or sociopathic lack of feeling, but by emotional avoidance and short-term self-interest. In essence, many ghosters do understand on some level that their actions may hurt someone - but they engage in various mental gymnastics to avoid confronting that reality. This is where cognitive dissonance and self-justification come into play. Ghosters often convince themselves of narratives that portray their avoidance as benign or even considerate: e.g. “I didn’t want to hurt them by breaking up; saying nothing is kinder” or “We only went on a few dates, so I don’t owe them anything.”[1]. By reframing their silence as doing the other person a favor or as a negligible offense, they preserve their illusionary self-image as a “good person”[1]. In one analysis, many ghosters genuinely believed that “no explanation is less painful” for the other party, thus rationalizing their disappearance as a form of mercy[1]. This self-deception reveals that ghosters are often uneasy with the harm they might cause, but they choose not to fully acknowledge it. They are avoiding not only the partner or friend, but also avoiding the guilt and emotional complexity that a direct confrontation would entail[1].

Thus, rather than a true lack of empathy in the clinical sense, what’s at work is a lack of applied empathy or courage in the moment of conflict. The ghoster prioritizes their own immediate comfort - escaping a stressful conversation - over the other person’s need for respect and continuity. Some psychologists bluntly describe ghosting as “a form of cowardice cloaked as convenience,” an attempt to sidestep the discomfort of saying no[1]. The seeming empathy gap is more about emotional short-sightedness. The person fails to consider or fully “feel” the long-term consequences (the other’s heartbreak, the erosion of trust in relationships) because they are focused on avoiding short-term negative feelings (awkwardness, guilt, anxiety). This is further evidenced by attachment studies: people high in attachment anxiety or avoidance – who struggle with insecurity or intimacy - are more prone to ghosting as a maladaptive coping mechanism, not necessarily because they lack caring altogether[1].

Of course, this is not to entirely exonerate those who habitually cut others off. From the victim’s perspective, impact matters more than intent. Being abruptly dropped is often deeply hurtful regardless of why it happened. The lack of explicit empathy in the act itself is real - the ghoster is not overtly showing care for the other’s feelings. Autistic individuals, who often have strong affective empathy, may be especially astounded by how a neurotypical person can claim to care about friends or partners, yet behave in a manner that disregards the emotional damage inflicted. This is part of a larger empathy gap between neurotypes (sometimes termed the “double empathy problem”). Each side can misjudge the other: the autistic person sees the NT’s avoidance as cruel and emotionless, while the neurotypical person might misinterpret the autistic’s distress or confrontational queries as overreaction or aggression. What looks psychopathic is often a neurotypical person’s clumsy way of thinking of protecting themselves from emotional discomfort. They may even feel pangs of guilt or sadness much later, but in the moment of conflict they default to escape. As one relationship coach pointed out, if someone ghosts outside of the acceptable minimal courtesy, the best case is that “they are lazy and/or selfish” - not thinking through the harm caused - and worst case (a minority) is that they truly have “an evil streak” (e.g. narcissistic tendencies)[6]. In sum, the majority of cut-off behaviors by neurotypicals can be explained by avoidant coping and poor conflict-resolution skills, rather than an actual absence of empathetic feeling. Nonetheless, to those left behind (often including autistic friends or partners), this behavior undeniably feels like a profound betrayal of empathy.

Autistic Perspectives: Clarity, Continuity, and Repair

Autistic individuals often approach relationships and conflicts very differently - guided by a strong preference for clarity, consistency, and logical resolution. Social scientists and autistic self-advocates note that many autistic people crave unambiguous communication in their interactions. Uncertainty and implicit social cues (the kind neurotypicals often rely on) tend to cause extreme anxiety for autistic individuals[7]. As a result, autistic people frequently value blunt honesty and explicit understanding in relationships. When misunderstandings or conflicts arise, they are inclined to confront the issue directly or seek clarification, rather than let it fester. This stems partly from cognitive style: autistic thinking is often detail-focused and systematic, which can manifest as “systems thinking” or an analytical approach to social connections. Many autistics instinctively try to debug relationship issues the way one might troubleshoot a system - by identifying the problem and addressing it through open dialogue or negotiated rules. They may find it perplexing that anyone would choose to leave a problem unsolved when a frank conversation might clear it up. In the words of one autistic author, “I cannot stand misunderstandings. I hate them with a passion, and they happen all the time… My logic in oversharing is that if you understand my quirks, my intentions, and my motivations, you’ll be less likely to be hurt, offended, or confused … and our interactions will run much more smoothly.”[8]. This quote illustrates a common autistic strategy: proactive transparency. By putting everything on the table - even intensely personal information - the autistic person is attempting to prevent future conflicts or repair any potential rifts by ensuring both parties are on the same page.

Furthermore, autistic individuals tend to place a high value on continuity and loyalty in friendships and partnerships. While social stereotypes wrongly suggest autistics are asocial, research and testimonies show that autistic people often deeply cherish their relationships and invest significant emotional energy in them[9,10]. Traits like loyalty, honesty, and reliability are frequently cited as strengths of autistic friendship style[9]. Autistic interviewees describe themselves as being “all-in” once they form a bond - they do not take friendships lightly or superficially. This intense investment is partly explained by autistic cognitive traits such as monotropism, the tendency to hyper-focus on a limited number of interests or people. When a monotropic individual cares about someone, “that care can be all-consuming … It’s not clinginess, it’s a reflection of how their attention and emotions align,” bringing a depth and consistency to the relationship[11]. In other words, autistic people often love and commit in a way that is very steady and enduring, which naturally inclines them toward maintaining existing relationships. If a conflict arises with someone they care about, their first impulse is often to fix the problem and restore equilibrium, because the relationship itself is of great inherent value (not easily replaceable). The idea of simply dropping a friend or partner without trying to resolve the issue can seem not only illogical to autistics, but emotionally devastating - it threatens a key point of stability in their life.

Another factor is that autistic individuals typically thrive on clarity and structure in their world, and this extends to social relationships. Ambiguity in relationships - mixed signals, unspoken resentments, on-and-off connections - can be intolerably stressful. One neurodivergent writer noted that neurotypical dating often relies on subtle ambiguity, but “for monotropic minds, this can feel exhausting. Clear communication and shared expectations help build trust.”[11]. Many autistics will push for explicit definitions (e.g. “Are we officially dating?” or “Why are you upset with me? Let’s discuss it.”) far sooner or more bluntly than a neurotypical might. They also often prefer predictable routines and rules in relationships - knowing what to expect from the other person and what is expected of them. This predictability provides a sense of safety. Indeed, clinical accounts mention that predictable relationship dynamics build security and reduce the stress of unspoken expectations for autistic people[11]. When something goes wrong, an autistic partner or friend is likely to seek a direct explanation and a plan to move forward, aligning with their general need for order. In conflicts, they may appear overly analytical or hung up on getting answers (e.g., wanting to know exactly why the friend is upset, or replaying events to pinpoint the misunderstanding), but this is part of their repair process - they are trying to understand the breakdown so it can be fixed.

Because of these tendencies, autistic individuals often report being bewildered and hurt by the neurotypical propensity to avoid conflict or leave issues unresolved. They might interpret a friend’s avoidance as a lack of caring, when in fact (from the friend’s NT perspective) it was meant to “keep the peace.” One autistic person described the experience of being ghosted as “having our anchor cut and drifting for a hundred miles before we realize something is wrong. Very wrong.”[7]. The sudden loss of communication, with no clarity, is profoundly destabilizing - it not only ends the relationship but also shatters the autistic person’s trust in their understanding of what was happening. Autistics often need that clear anchor of knowing where they stand with someone; when someone disappears or silently distances, the autistic individual is left with a storm of unanswered questions and often intense rumination (as are many neurotypicals too, but autistics may amplify this through their detail-focused recall and anxiety)[1]. Indeed, ghosting’s ambiguity is notorious for causing recipients to replay interactions in a “constant loop of wondering what happened,” which can be especially tormenting for those prone to anxiety. Autistic people, who might already struggle to interpret social cues, find themselves in a guessing game with no solution - a scenario they understandably experience as traumatic or infuriating.

In contrast, when conflicts are addressed transparently, autistic individuals can be remarkably forgiving and collaborative. Their systems-oriented thinking means they are often willing to work logically through a problem in the relationship, given the chance. They also tend to appreciate concrete efforts to make amends, as these cut through ambiguity. Continuity is highly valued: rather than discarding a friend over one argument, many autistic people will recall the history and context of the friendship (the “system” of that relationship) and strive to reconcile. This is not to romanticize autistic people as universally saintly in relationships - they can struggle with communication breakdowns, and if they feel betrayed, they may also end relationships (sometimes autistics will “ghost” in their own way, by retreating into solitude, although often not out of malice)[8]. The key difference is in motivation: autistics often disconnect unintentionally or due to social overwhelm, not because they want to punish or avoid an uncomfortable talk[8]. In fact, if explicitly invited to discuss and repair a conflict, many autistics welcome that opportunity. They are relieved by clear, explicit discussion where each person’s feelings and expectations are spelled out - a scenario that allows their strength in honesty to shine.

In summary, autistic individuals generally emphasize clear communication, loyalty, and problem-solving in relationships, in line with their neurological preference for structure and deep focus. They invest heavily in the people they care about and thus have a strong inclination to repair rather than remove when troubles arise. Autistic social norms encourage saying what one means, laying cards on the table, and seeking mutual understanding - all elements that facilitate resolution. Consequently, the neurotypical habit of cutting off someone without dialog can seem not only hurtful but irrational to an autistic person, who would likely have handled the situation by hashing it out. This fundamental difference in approach sets the stage for frequent miscommunications between the groups, especially around conflict.

Divergent Perceptions of Risk, Discomfort, and Resolution

The contrast between neurotypical and autistic conflict-handling reflects a deeper cultural divide in perceiving social risk and emotional discomfort. Broadly speaking, neurotypical socialization in Western contexts often teaches that open conflict is dangerous - it carries the risk of anger, rejection, or embarrassment - and thus should be minimized. Autistic social experiences, on the other hand, often teach that unspoken conflict or unresolved ambiguity is more dangerous - it leads to chronic anxiety, confusion, and unintended hurt. These differing perspectives mean that the two groups often have opposite instincts when problems arise.

For many neurotypical individuals, a direct confrontation or emotionally charged discussion is viewed as a high-risk event. They may fear that bringing up an issue will make things “worse,” escalate into a fight, or even end the relationship. Thus, to them, avoidance feels like the safer choice: if they quietly distance themselves or drop the topic, perhaps the hard feelings will dissipate without a dramatic showdown. This approach is sometimes framed as being polite or preserving harmony - one might think, for instance, that it’s kinder not to tell a friend how much they upset you, and just slowly withdraw, rather than risk hurting their feelings with criticism. Neurotypicals also often derive a sense of security from social consensus and “fitting in,” which can make overt conflict (which highlights disagreement or incompatible needs) especially uncomfortable to engage in. From their standpoint, conflict is rupture, so avoiding conflict is a way to avoid rupturing the relationship. Ironically, the very act of avoidance often causes the rupture in slow motion. Yet because the breakdown isn’t explosive, the neurotypical individual might not register it as risk - it’s a quiet fade, which feels psychologically easier to handle than a charged confrontation.

Autistic individuals tend to invert this calculus. To an autistic person, the truly frightening scenario is a vague, unaddressed problem that they cannot resolve because no one will talk about it openly. They often experience intense stress over uncertainty in social situations. For example, if an autistic senses that a friend is annoyed with them (perhaps the friend is giving short replies), they will be highly anxious until the situation is clarified. They would rather risk an uncomfortable conversation to know where they stand than endure the ambiguity. In autistic experience, unspoken conflict is chaos: it leaves them guessing wildly at what the other person is thinking, which, due to the double empathy gap, they know they might guess wrong. In contrast, a frank discussion - even if it involves some anger or tears - at least makes the issues concrete and knowable. Many autistics report that they actually find relief in direct confrontation because it converts the abstract (someone’s upset, but I don’t know why) into the tangible (they’re upset because I did X; now we can deal with X)[8]. The risk of not confronting is, in their eyes, far greater: the risk of losing a valued relationship without understanding the reason, or the risk of unintentionally causing more harm due to ignorance of the other’s feelings. In short, autistics often choose the short-term discomfort of a difficult conversation to avoid the long-term pain of a broken or bewildering relationship.

This divergence can be encapsulated by the observation that “they see conflict differently, and what brings peace to one may cause agitation to the other.” In mixed neurotype interactions, a neurotypical’s attempt to keep the peace by staying silent might actually heighten the autistic person’s agitation and sense of insecurity[12]. Conversely, the autistic person’s attempt to secure the relationship by pressing for clarity might feel to the neurotypical like an increase in conflict (even an attack). Each side is essentially trying to reduce risk - but they define the risk differently. What one partner needs to feel safe (e.g. full honesty) might have the opposite effect on the other, making them feel unsafe[12]. This is the crux of the double empathy problem: both parties are operating with empathy (each cares about not hurting feelings), but according to their own framework. The neurotypical assumes that not bringing up the issue is empathetic (sparing feelings, avoiding drama), while the autistic finds that very lack of communication unempathetic (withholding the truth needed to fix and move forward). Both can end up thinking the other lacks empathy or reasoning, when in fact both are simply protecting against what they perceive as the biggest relational threat[12].

Culturally, Western norms tend to reward neurotypical styles - for instance, there is often an expectation to handle conflict with polite indirectness or to “take a hint” rather than demand explicit closure. Autistic individuals, who don’t play by these subtle rules, often run afoul of neurotypical expectations. A neurotypical friend might think they are being considerate by drifting away from an autistic friend they have an issue with, assuming the friend will get the hint; the autistic friend, not picking up the unwritten message, might instead experience heartbreak and confusion, or alternatively, might confront the friend bluntly and be seen as rude. These misaligned perceptions of what is the right way to deal with conflict lead to mutual frustration. As one autistic commenter observed, “All I really understand is that neurotypicals think it’s nicer to be actively positive than to be honest … It’s like in their world, politeness is preferred over transparency”[13]. While a sweeping statement, it captures the sentiment that neurotypical culture often labels direct confrontation as unkind, whereas autistic culture finds honesty and directness the ultimate signs of respect and care.

In essence, the risk calculus diverges: Neurotypicals often fear the risks of confrontation more, while autistics fear the risks of avoidance more. This cultural divide doesn’t mean every neurotypical avoids all conflict, nor that every autistic is comfortable with every confrontation (autistic people can also be conflict-averse in their own way, especially if past trauma is involved). But as general tendencies, it shapes how each group attempts to reach “resolution.” Neurotypicals may lean towards pseudo-resolution by dropping the issue (or the person) to avoid discomfort. Autistics lean towards true resolution by directly addressing issues, even if it’s uncomfortable, because only that provides clarity. Each approach has its pitfalls: the neurotypical method can lead to unresolved resentments or sudden social ruptures, whereas the autistic method can lead to frequent intense dialogues or the impression of being unyielding. Bridging this divide requires both sides to recognize the other’s comfort zone. Neurotypicals might need to push themselves to be more forthright and not assume the other can infer their feelings; autistics might need to remember that not everyone is ready for immediate deep discussion and that gentle timing can help. When both parties make these adjustments, conflicts can be navigated in a way that feels safe for both - perhaps by combining clarity with tact. Ultimately, understanding this cultural/neurotype difference is key to fostering mutual empathy: each side needs to see that the other is not intentionally behaving badly, but is operating from a different perception of what resolves the conflict versus what escalates it[12].

The Pattern in Workplace Dynamics

These contrasting approaches to conflict and communication also manifest in workplace settings, sometimes with high stakes for autistic employees. Many modern workplaces in Western countries have an unspoken neurotypical code for handling interpersonal issues - often mirroring the social norms outside. Managers and colleagues may shy away from giving direct critical feedback, preferring to “be nice” or avoid a difficult conversation until it becomes unavoidable. In practice, this can mean that if an autistic employee unintentionally offends someone or struggles with a team’s social expectations, the team might not address it openly with them. Instead, the individual could find themselves increasingly isolated from important projects, left out of social invites, or on the receiving end of HR citations that seem to come out of nowhere. In worst-case scenarios, the autistic person might be abruptly terminated (“fired”) without ever being clearly told what the interpersonal issue was. Indeed, autistic adults often report experiencing workplace difficulties due to colleagues’ poor understanding of autism, lack of support, or even bullying - issues that sometimes go unspoken until they culminate in job loss[14]. This reflects the same remove-rather-than-repair mentality: rather than invest time in adjusting the work environment or coaching an employee through a social misunderstanding, some employers take the path of removing the perceived problem.

On the other side, autistic employees might unknowingly violate neurotypical workplace norms of conflict avoidance. An autistic person might bring up problems very frankly - for example, directly telling a coworker that they’re doing a task incorrectly, or questioning a manager’s decision in a group meeting. While the intention is to solve a problem or seek clarity, such directness can be misinterpreted as insubordination or abrasiveness in a hierarchical, neurotypical-led work culture. Without a culture of openness, the autistic individual’s approach can backfire: colleagues may respond by ostracizing them or labeling them as “difficult,” rather than discussing the concern on its merits. In a neurotypical-heavy environment, an autistic person’s request for clarity or fairness might be seen as causing conflict instead of resolving it.

To mitigate these issues, progressive organizations emphasize explicit communication and neurodiversity training. Effective managers in neurodiverse teams learn to recognize that what looks like conflict may just be a difference in style or perspective[15]. Rather than avoiding the topic, they encourage open communication and provide structured opportunities for each team member to express concerns in a safe manner[15]. For instance, setting clear expectations and giving direct feedback (in private, with concrete examples) can help an autistic employee adjust without feeling mysteriously judged[15]. This approach benefits everyone, as neurotypical team members also appreciate clarity once it’s normalized. When conflicts do arise, mediation techniques that explicitly include all voices can prevent misunderstandings from festering[15]. A mediator or manager might facilitate a conversation where an autistic and a neurotypical coworker each explain their viewpoints - often revealing that a perceived personal slight was really a communication gap.

In essence, workplaces that handle neurodiversity well attempt to repair and educate rather than remove. Unfortunately, not all workplaces have caught up. It is still common that an autistic employee only learns of a problem when it’s too late (e.g., during a termination meeting), indicating a failure to address the conflict through dialogue. The stakes here are high: professional exclusion or job loss can derail careers and contribute to the disproportionately high unemployment or underemployment rates among autistic adults. The pattern we see is the same as in personal relationships - an avoidance of discomfort leading to a drastic removal - but magnified by power imbalances in employment. A brief note of optimism: as awareness grows, more organizations are beginning to realize that valuing neurodiversity means adapting conflict-resolution styles. In inclusive workplace training, managers are taught that differences in communication aren’t personal failures but something to navigate openly[16]. By establishing a culture where direct yet respectful conversation is the norm, workplaces can reduce the need for drastic measures. The goal is to prevent the scenario where a neurotypical manager quietly writes off an autistic employee as “not a fit” without ever explaining why, or where an autistic worker, feeling misunderstood, quits in frustration. When repair is prioritized over removal - through clarity, feedback, and mutual accommodation - teams can leverage the strengths of all members and avoid the loss of talent that comes from unresolved conflict.

Conclusion

Our investigation finds considerable support for the hypothesis that Western neurotypical social norms skew towards resolving interpersonal tensions by removal or avoidance rather than by repair, whereas autistic norms emphasize the opposite. Neurotypical individuals, conditioned by cultural practices and personal discomfort, frequently opt to cut off, ghost, or distance themselves from others when conflicts or emotional ambiguities arise. This tendency is bolstered by a prevalent belief that one can always start fresh with new relationships - a mindset reinforced by modern social platforms and “destiny” narratives that undermine the perceived need to work through difficulties[1]. While such behavior can appear cold, unempathetic, or even psychopathic to those on the receiving end (not least to autistic people who highly value loyalty and honesty), the evidence suggests that the primary drivers are emotional avoidance and short-term thinking rather than a complete lack of empathy[1].

Autistic individuals, in contrast, generally exhibit a social pattern oriented around transparency, consistency, and perseverance in relationships. Their communication style and cognitive preferences make them seek clear definitions and resolutions; they are often willing to endure the short-term discomfort of an awkward talk if it means preserving the relationship and eliminating uncertainty[7,8]. Autistics typically invest deeply in a small number of connections and thus resist abandoning them lightly, instead approaching conflict with a problem-solving mindset and a desire for mutual understanding. This divergence in approach leads to a classic empathy gap - each party may misinterpret the other’s motives and methods. Neurotypicals might mistake an autistic person’s directness or insistence on addressing issues as aggression or undue negativity, while autistics are likely to view the neurotypical’s silence or evasiveness as a sign of indifference or moral failing[12].

References

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