What If We Taught Complexity, Not Deadlines?

I’ve been thinking a lot about my last post on end-of-semester struggles—especially while watching my own university student trying to manage their deadlines. I’ll admit, I reverted to lecturer mode. I warned them about how long things take, how one incomplete assignment can impact the next, and tried (unsuccessfully) to get them to reply to the lecturer’s emails checking in. But, of course, that would mean opening their email first!

I just want them to succeed. I’ve spent nine years lecturing and now teach students—through N@U—how to stay on track, how to think through problems, how to manage the overwhelm. But when it comes to my own student? What do I know? 😊

The phrase “twisty minds” doesn’t even begin to capture it.

These conversations reminded me just how little space there is in universities to talk about how neurodivergent students think. The phrase “twisty minds” doesn’t even begin to capture it. Too often, the dominant story is one of “not doing,” “needing clarification” or “not understanding,” and university support structures are built around that narrative.

But what gets missed is the complexity—the creative, layered, non-linear thinking that so many neurodivergent students bring to the table and could offer these institutions.

Often, their work is insightful and original—not because they follow the question exactly, but because they see beyond the question. Yes, technically the assignment is designed for a particular purpose and does require some level of creativity but our brains don’t always want to go in a straight line as often assignments require. And that’s not a weakness—it’s a difference.

Their work is insightful and original—not because they follow the question exactly, but because they see beyond it.

Universities, in an attempt to be clearer, often pile on details to clarify what needs to be provided in assignments: three-page-long questions, intricate rubrics, and endless breakdowns of what’s expected. But all this structure doesn’t lead to better outcomes. It doesn’t foster creativity. Instead, it often triggers academic trauma and fear of failure—especially for neurodivergent students who have negative experiences in the education system. It cages the mind instead of freeing it. Tasks become about output, not about thinking.

Clock Face with cogs to show how different elements are used to keep to time-frames. Image:R.Gibbons

All this structure doesn’t foster creativity. It triggers academic trauma.

So what if we changed the approach?

What if we truly looked at education through a neurodivergent paradigm (lens)?

For me, it would be less about deadlines and more about gaining understanding and skills—especially the expertise of neurodivergent thinking. Creative thinking takes time. But students aren’t taught to take time; they’re taught to hit due dates. For neurodivergent and especially twice-exceptional (2E) students, this time to process, to explore, to mentally wander, is critical—and often absent.

Clock Face with monarch butterflies over it. Monarch butterflies go through major transformations to come into being. Image R.Gibbons

Creative thinking takes time. But students aren’t taught to take time; they’re taught deadlines

During my undergraduate degree I took a paper on creative processes, we were taught that sometimes, ideas need to sit in the back of the mind before they’re ready to emerge. That’s not procrastination—it’s part of the process. But it’s not something we teach.

Imagine if we did. Imagine if we recognised that complexity takes time. What would assignments look like then?

Imagine if we recognised that complexity takes time. What would our assignments look like then?

Hands holding a butterfly but the butterfly is also wrapped through the hands as if they are enmeshed. Image R Gibbons