Odette Jansen is a UX Researcher with 13 years of experience, currently working as a UX Manager at ING, where she oversees research, content, and sales (all from a UX point of view) and manage the people on those different teams.
Passionate about research, she loves uncovering user insights and improving experiences through data-driven methods, especially quant tests.
A strong advocate for research operations, Odette focuses on creating efficient workflows to enhance both the quality and quantity of research.
With a master’s in talent development emphasizing neurodiversity, and as an autistic individual herself, she is deeply committed to promoting inclusivity and neurodiversity in UX.
In this interview with UXtweak, Odette talks about:
🔎 Her experience being a neurodiverse UX leader
🔥 How discovering her autism reshaped her approach to work and communication
💬 Practical advice for creating neurodiverse-friendly work environments and research settings
❌ Common misconceptions about neurodiversity in the workplace
🛠️ Tips for building effective, streamlined research operations
… and so much more! Let’s dive right in!
🧠 Neurodiversity and leadership
Discovering your neurodiversity 2-3 years ago must have been a transformative experience. How has it influenced your approach to work and leadership?
Discovering I was autistic was like a huge lightbulb moment. I’d always known there was something different about how I saw the world, how I approached situations, and how I interacted with people, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it.
My mom used to call me a chameleon because I would completely change my personality based on where I was or who I was with. At the time, I didn’t know this was called masking—putting on a “mask” to be who others expect you to be instead of who you truly are.
When I found out I was autistic, it felt like everything clicked into place. It was a relief, but it also pushed me to reflect on the person behind the mask and accept that this version of me—who I really am—is enough. This realization helped me unlearn the habits I’d picked up to fit in and gave me the freedom to explore how I could work and lead authentically.
As a leader, this has had a huge impact. It’s taught me to lead in a way that aligns with my strengths and values rather than trying to conform to a preconceived idea of what a leader “should” be.
It’s also shaped how I support others. I take the time to understand the individual needs of the people I work with—whether they’re neurodivergent or not—and adjust my leadership style to help them thrive.
Clear communication is another big one for me. I’ve learned that there are so many nuances in how people give and receive information, especially across neurotypes or cultures. I make it a priority to ensure my team knows exactly what I mean, and I ask clarifying questions so I fully understand them as well.
Ultimately, learning I was autistic gave me the confidence to embrace who I am and the opportunity to lead in a way that’s both true to myself and supportive of others.
Are there any specific challenges you’ve faced as a neurodiverse leader, and how have you overcome them? What would you recommend to others facing the same challenges?
One of the biggest challenges for me as a neurodiverse leader is the social aspect of leadership. As a leader, there’s an expectation to always be “on”—to be present, social, and interested in others. While that’s important for building relationships and understanding my team, it’s also incredibly draining.
Social interactions aren’t just about talking; for me, they’re a mental marathon of analyzing everything: Am I smiling enough? Have I made enough eye contact? Did I ask the right questions? This constant overthinking makes social interactions exhausting.
What I’ve learned is to manage this by setting boundaries and balancing my time. I time-box social interactions to what I know I can handle in a day. This helps me ensure the quality of my presence remains high without pushing myself to the point of shutdown.
Another challenge is sensory input in the office. The lights are too bright, the temperature is never right, and there are constant noises—whether it’s buzzing electronics or conversations happening around me. Even scents like perfumes or deodorants can be overwhelming.
Hybrid work has been a game-changer for managing this. Working from home allows me to recharge and create a perfectly tailored environment for focus and productivity.
To others facing similar challenges, I’d recommend understanding your limits and needs and advocating for them unapologetically. Finding strategies that work for you isn’t selfish—it’s essential for thriving as a leader.
Can you give some practical tips for teams to ensure their work environment and communication style are inclusive and accommodating for neurodiverse colleagues?
Creating an inclusive environment starts with understanding that everyone’s needs are different, and offering flexibility can make a world of difference.
For me, managing sensory input is key. I always bring noise-canceling headphones to reduce overwhelming sounds, and I schedule quiet breaks during the day to process meetings and recharge.
When it comes to communication, I thrive with written and visual formats. Verbal communication can be overwhelming because I’m processing so much at once—tone of voice, body language, visual cues, and the actual information—all while trying to formulate a response. Written communication lets me take the time I need to process, and visual aids during meetings make it easier to follow along.
Inclusivity also requires creating safe spaces for neurodiverse employees to voice their needs without fear of judgment.
Neurodiverse people aren’t a 'burden' or 'special case'—we bring unique perspectives and creativity that enrich teams. By listening to our experiences, workplaces can become more inclusive for everyone.
Have there been times when your neurodiverse perspective has given you a unique edge or insight during a project?
Absolutely. One analogy I often use to explain this is that a neurotypical brain might process and store information in 10 boxes, with one box dedicated to a topic like movies. In contrast, my autistic brain has 1,000 boxes, with 20 dedicated to movies—each labeled for directors, actors, genres, timelines, and so on.
While it might take me longer to process something initially because I’m sorting through so many boxes, I can then make connections and see patterns that others might miss.
This pattern recognition has been a huge strength in my work. During user interviews, for instance, I don’t just hear the words being spoken—I process the tone of voice, body language, and the emotional “vibe” of the person.
If what they’re saying doesn’t align with their body language, I pick up on that and can ask deeper questions to uncover what’s really going on.
Another example is my attention to detail. I can quickly spot inconsistencies or flaws in a design and anticipate potential usability issues. While research is about testing assumptions rather than relying on instincts, this ability helps me craft better usability test scenarios to explore potential problem areas.
Finally, my neurodivergent perspective fosters creativity. Having spent my life adapting to a world that wasn’t designed for me, I’ve developed unique problem-solving skills. This creativity helps me approach challenges in unconventional ways and contributes fresh ideas to projects.
What’s one misconception about neurodiversity in the workplace that you’d love to change?
I think it’s less of a misconception and more of an assumption: people often believe that everyone’s brain works the same way because they’re coming from their own perspective.
For neurotypical individuals, the world is designed for them—it works for them. So, they assume it must work for everyone else, too. But that’s just not the case. Neurodivergent brains work differently, and we need to acknowledge and address those differences to create truly inclusive environments.
When it comes to specific misconceptions, one that stands out is the idea that autistic people lack empathy.
For many of us, the opposite is true. I experience emotions so deeply that when someone around me is stressed or upset, I feel it in my own body. This ability to pick up on and process emotions can make me highly empathetic.
Another stereotype is that autistic people are all obsessed with one specific thing, like trains. I hear this a lot, and honestly, I find it bizarre. I absolutely detest trains and avoid public transport altogether because it gives me panic attacks. The point is, we’re all individuals. Just like neurotypical people, no two neurodivergent people are the same.
The biggest thing I’d like to change is the assumption that everyone works the same way. To make workplaces more inclusive, we need to ask people about their experiences, listen to their needs, and recognize that our assumptions—however well-meaning—are often biased.
If you could implement one major change to make UX research more inclusive for neurodiverse participants, what would it be?
This is such an exciting question because it challenges us to see research participants as users of our research methods. Just as we design products to fit the needs of our target audience, we should also design research methods to fit the needs of all participants, including neurodiverse individuals.
When we bring a neurodiverse participant into a typical research environment—an unfamiliar room, face-to-face with someone they don’t know, possibly expecting eye contact and immediate answers—we’re unintentionally setting them up for discomfort.
For autistic participants, for instance, eye contact can be physically painful, unfamiliar spaces can be overwhelming, and the pressure to “perform” can lead to invalid data because they’re not in a safe or natural state.
To make research more inclusive, we need to rethink these setups. For example, remote interviews can provide a more comfortable environment. While it’s ideal to keep the camera on for analyzing body language, it should be okay for participants to turn it off if it helps them feel safer and more at ease.
The priority should be creating an environment where the participant feels comfortable enough to share genuine insights, even if it means adapting the way we collect data.
In essence, when we design research methods, we’re designing a product for the participants to use. To do that effectively, we need to understand the “user” of the method—in this case, the neurodiverse participant. This means learning about different neurotypes, how they process information, and what environments help them thrive.
By training researchers and designers on neurodiversity, we can build better research methods and, in turn, better products that truly work for everyone.
🔎 ResearchOps
If you had a blank slate, what would be the first thing you’d set up for a new research operations framework?
This is one of my favorite questions because a blank slate is where I thrive. Starting fresh gives you the opportunity to build something truly tailored to the needs of the organization. But, like so much in research, the answer is: it depends.
1. The first step is always discovery.
Before diving into solutions, you need to understand the current state of research within the business. How does the organization view research? Who are the stakeholders, and what do they know—or not know—about research? Where is research currently being conducted, and by whom? What’s been working, and what hasn’t? This discovery phase helps you identify the puzzle pieces that will guide your next steps.
2. Once you’ve mapped out the landscape, the next step is prioritization.
What are the biggest pain points or gaps in the current setup? What does the business or team need most right now? The answer to this will vary depending on the size of the research team (if one even exists), the organization’s maturity in UX research, and the challenges they’re facing.
3. From there, I would start by focusing on the one change that will deliver the biggest impact.
That might mean setting up clear workflows to streamline processes, establishing a centralized repository for research insights, or defining consistent standards for research practices.
Whatever the starting point, the goal is to create something that immediately makes life easier for researchers and stakeholders while laying the foundation for further improvements.
Have you ever faced skepticism about research ops from stakeholders? Do you have any advice for winning them over?
For me, the key to addressing any skepticism about ResearchOps is simple: I don’t mention ResearchOps to stakeholders at all.
Stakeholders don’t need to know the term or the behind-the-scenes details of how we manage it. What they care about is how research fits into their world—how they can access insights, how they request research, and how the process works for them.
Instead of introducing “ResearchOps” as a concept, I focus on delivering tangible solutions that stakeholders can immediately understand and use. For example, I’ll show them a repository where they can find insights or explain the process they need to follow to get research done. They see the value in having clarity and structure without needing to know the mechanics behind it.
For my research team, however, I do emphasize the term “ResearchOps” because it’s important for them to understand the systems and processes we’re building. It becomes a way to unify and improve our internal workflows, but for stakeholders, it’s all about delivering outcomes, not terminology.
My advice is to tailor your communication to the audience. Stakeholders only need to know what directly impacts them. Focus on demonstrating the value through tools, processes, and results, and they’ll come on board naturally.
Do you have a favorite “aha” moment that came from tweaking or improving a workflow in research ops?
One of my favorite “aha” moments has been in my current role as UX manager at ING. Like in my previous positions, it’s crucial to figure out how research requests come in and how to manage them effectively. However because ING is much larger than my previous company, the way research is used, communicated, and requested is very different.
To address this, we created an intake process to streamline research requests. Research requests come from everywhere and at different stages of projects, so the first MVP (minimum viable process) was an intake form. This form was designed to collect all the essential information we needed to prioritize projects, evaluate their business case, and determine if they fit within the team’s capacity and goals.
Initially, I based the form on my previous experiences. It included questions about goals, the business, and other key details. However, when we tested it with designers—who are often the ones requesting research for evaluative purposes—we discovered a few issues. For one, the form had too many questions, which overwhelmed stakeholders.
More importantly, the language I used for the questions didn’t align with how this company communicated internally. The same terms and phrases meant different things to different people, creating confusion.
This was a huge learning moment for me.
While I had assumed that my previous experience would directly translate, I realized how much context matters.
We iterated on the form based on the feedback we received, simplifying the questions and adapting the language to better match how stakeholders at ING communicate.
It’s still a work in progress—we’re constantly learning and refining—but it’s been exciting to see how small changes based on real stakeholder feedback can make such a big difference.
What are some of your favorite, go-to tips for streamlining research operations?
One workflow I’ve implemented that’s made a big impact is the intake-to-kickoff process.
It streamlines how research requests are handled, from gathering all the necessary information to properly kickstarting a project. This process ensures we have a clear overview to prioritize research requests effectively and gather all the details we need to set up a project for success.
The kickoff itself brings everyone onto the same page—researchers, designers, stakeholders—so there’s clarity about what’s happening and a shared understanding of goals.
For prioritization, I use a confidence vs. risk matrix. This helps us assess how confident stakeholders are in a solution they’ve built (or in their assumptions for discovery research) versus the risk of it failing. If confidence is low and the risk is high, it’s a clear indicator that research is critical.
This matrix allows us to focus our capacity on the projects where research will have the greatest impact while helping stakeholders understand why some projects might need to wait.
I also rely heavily on templates. Templates aren’t just fill-in-the-blank assignments—they’re structured starting points that save time and reduce friction. I create templates for research plans, methods, outcomes, and reports, allowing the team to dive into the actual research work faster.
To keep stakeholders informed, I’ve introduced alignment meetings and regular updates via Teams.
Besides the initial intake and kickoff, we hold alignment meetings for significant updates, like major insights or project changes. Weekly updates in Teams ensure everyone involved is up to date on progress and deliverables. This consistent communication has been key to fostering collaboration and making sure no one feels left out of the loop.
🌟 Women in UX
What do you think is the best part of being a woman in the UX/tech industry?
One of the best parts of being a woman in UX and tech is the opportunity to bring a different lived experience to the table, especially in an industry that has traditionally been male-dominated. While I’ve had my fair share of moments where I didn’t feel entirely welcome, I’m happy to say that things have improved over time, both in the industry and as I’ve gained experience.
What I find most valuable about being a woman in this field is the ability to contribute unique perspectives. Just as diverse neurotypes and cultural backgrounds enrich a team, having women—and, for that matter, non-binary individuals—in tech is crucial for building the best solutions. Diverse teams are stronger because they’re shaped by different lived experiences, whether those come from gender, culture, heritage, or neurotype.
For me, being a woman in UX, and particularly an autistic woman in UX, means advocating for the minority groups I represent.
Women are still a minority in tech, and neurodiverse women even more so. But that’s what makes this such an important opportunity—to show how much we can bring to the table and how vital it is to include voices like ours in the design process.
What is your message to other people in the UX industry?
My message is specifically for neurodiverse people in UX—people like me. My advice is simple: be yourself and advocate for yourself, because you’re the only one who can truly do that.
Voice what you need, ask for what works best for you, and set clear boundaries. You deserve a space in this field, and you bring immense value to it.
Because neurodiverse people are often misunderstood, it’s even more important to make our voices heard. Advocate for yourself, but also for others like you. By claiming your space in UX, you’re not just standing up for yourself—you’re paving the way for others.
Change can be scary, especially for many autistic people, but it’s also an opportunity. It’s a chance to make a mark, to lift up other neurodiverse people, and to create a more inclusive UX field. Together, we can build a space where diverse voices are celebrated, and that’s a space where everyone thrives.
If you’re interested to read more of inspiring interviews with women from the UX industry, check out our other Women in UX talks!
And dont’ forget to check out UXtweak – an all-in-one UX research platform. From user interviews, to surveys, card sorts and usability tests – we have it all 🐝
