“It’s Just a Quick Call”: Why Phoning Can Be a Nightmare for Neurodivergent Minds

And why it’s not as “quick” as it seems

🧠 Introduction: The Phone Call Paradox

To many neurotypical individuals, a phone call is often perceived as a quick and efficient way to communicate. Whether it’s clarifying a detail, solving a problem, or checking in, the assumption is that picking up the phone saves time compared to writing a message. However, for many people with Asperger’s Syndrome (now referred to as Autism Spectrum Disorder Level 1), this assumption could not be further from the truth.

For neurodivergent minds, especially those affected by sensory sensitivities, executive functioning differences, or social anxiety, phone calls represent a complex challenge. What may seem like a minor interruption to others can be experienced as a serious disruption to mental balance, focus, and well-being.

The stress can begin the moment the phone rings. There is no time to prepare, no visual context to soften the social exchange, and no clear end point to the intrusion. And if the call is one they have to initiate themselves, the challenges compound. Many will spend hours, sometimes days, mentally preparing and scripting the conversation—imagining countless possible paths the discussion could take.

Far from being a quick and efficient tool, the phone becomes a high-effort task that drains time, energy, and focus. And this isn’t due to unwillingness or avoidance. It is rooted in real cognitive processing differences that deserve understanding—not judgment or pressure to conform to neurotypical norms.

• The Missing Context: No Visual, No Cues
• The Abrupt Interruption: Incoming Calls Break the World Apart
• Executive Dysfunction: The Cost of Context-Switching
• Outgoing Calls: The Scripted Anxiety Minefield
• “Just Pick Up the Phone” Is Not a Neutral Statement
• So What Helps?
• Additional resources

🔇 The Missing Context: No Visual, No Cues

Phone calls eliminate the rich layer of nonverbal information that many autistic individuals rely on to interpret communication. Without body language, facial expressions, lip movements, or physical context, the listener is left with only a voice—often compressed and distorted by low-quality audio. For someone who depends heavily on visual cues to gauge intent, mood, or turn-taking, this lack of input turns even a simple exchange into a cognitively demanding task.

One of the most common struggles is the interpretation of tone and timing. Emotional nuance becomes harder to detect and easier to misread. A pause might be mistaken for disapproval. A slightly raised voice could feel like aggression. A subtle change in tone might cause panic if it can’t be visually verified as sarcasm, enthusiasm, or frustration. These ambiguities can trigger anxiety, lead to misunderstandings, and erode confidence over time.

Further complicating matters is the unpredictability of phone conversations. Many people speak faster on the phone or shift topics without warning. For someone whose brain needs time to process each sentence—sometimes translating spoken words into visual or semantic structure before responding—this rapid pace becomes exhausting. There is rarely time to think, to pause, or to reorient. Instead, it feels like being pushed into a current that is always a few steps ahead, with no lifeline to slow things down.

This sensory and cognitive load builds up quickly. What may be an ordinary phone chat for one person can become an overwhelming and mentally draining experience for another—all because the essential cues needed to navigate it are simply not there.

This absence of visual grounding can also impair comprehension itself. It is not uncommon for neurodivergent individuals to hear the words being said but completely miss their intended meaning. Without facial expressions, gestures, or shared situational context, the brain may struggle to match tone and content, leading to confusion or misinterpretation.

In more extreme cases, individuals may enter a kind of dissociative or “zombie mode” during phone calls. They may respond with socially appropriate statements or go through the motions of a conversation, but retain no memory of what was agreed upon or discussed. This is particularly problematic when appointments are scheduled or important decisions are made during these calls. Because the information was not properly integrated, it may never be stored in memory.

As a result, what appears to be absentmindedness or forgetfulness is actually a symptom of the brain’s overloaded processing system. The person may not even be aware of having committed to something, because the experience was never fully absorbed in the first place. Without visual or written reinforcement, the interaction can pass through the mind like a fog.

💨 The Abrupt Interruption: Incoming Calls Break the World Apart

For many neurodivergent individuals, the sudden sound of a ringing phone is not merely a notification—it is experienced as an emergency-level intrusion. This is not exaggerated. The sharp, abrupt sound hijacks attention, often triggering a stress response akin to an alarm bell. It disrupts not just the quiet of the room but the inner stability of the mind, especially for those immersed in deep focus or managing sensory sensitivity.

What makes this so disruptive is the way focus works in autistic brains. Entering a deep state of concentration—sometimes called hyperfocus—takes time and effort, and it is often one of the few ways complex tasks can be managed effectively. When that state is broken, especially without warning, it’s not just a matter of picking up where one left off. It can take anywhere from several minutes to a few hours to return to the previous mental state, if it is even possible that day.

Even if the phone call itself only lasts two minutes, the damage to the cognitive workflow is often immense. People may need to calm down, reorient themselves, reread previous work, reprocess what they were doing, and suppress the emotional turbulence caused by the interruption. During this recovery, productivity can drop to near-zero, and emotional distress can linger much longer than the call itself.

This is why statements like “It was just a quick call” are so fundamentally misunderstood. For the caller, the interruption was minimal. For the person on the receiving end—especially if neurodivergent—that call may have derailed the better part of the day. It’s not about time in the clock sense, but about cognitive and emotional energy, which phone calls can unexpectedly deplete.

🧩 Executive Dysfunction: The Cost of Context-Switching

Executive dysfunction sometimes is one of the less visible but deeply impactful aspects of autism. It affects a person’s ability to organize, plan, initiate, and transition between tasks. Phone calls, especially unexpected ones, demand an immediate and complete shift in mental state. This shift isn’t just difficult—it can be cognitively and emotionally exhausting.

Imagine you’re working deeply on something that requires your full attention, like coding, writing, or troubleshooting a complex issue. Then the phone rings. Unlike an email or a message that can be answered asynchronously, a phone call demands an instant response. But switching to that call involves more than just answering the phone—it requires stopping your current mental process, silencing any emotional or sensory momentum that’s been building, and engaging in a completely different mode of thinking.

The brain, in these moments, has to “pack up” the task at hand. For neurodivergent individuals, this isn’t as simple as bookmarking a web page. It can feel like saving and shutting down a dozen different mental programs, each with their own logic and flow. Then the call must be engaged with full attention, often under the pressure of real-time communication and without preparation.

After the call, it’s not possible to simply resume the previous work. The mind now has to reload the prior context—a slow and often incomplete process. Fragments may be forgotten. Emotional balance may be off. Focus may not return. Even if one manages to return to the task, the quality and clarity of thought may not be the same.

While neurotypicals with poor multitasking skills can relate to some degree, the depth and frequency of this disruption in neurodivergent individuals is typically more intense. It’s not a mild annoyance—it can be the primary reason a project stalls or a day gets derailed entirely. And this is not about unwillingness; it’s about neurological wiring and the massive cost of shifting gears.

😰 Outgoing Calls: The Scripted Anxiety Minefield

For many neurodivergent individuals, making an outgoing phone call is not a simple task—it’s a source of profound stress and anxiety. Unlike written communication, which allows for careful construction, editing, and timing, a live phone call forces the individual to navigate conversation in real time. There is no pause button, no draft folder, and no guarantee of how the interaction will unfold.

To prepare for this uncertainty, people with ASD often engage in extensive mental scripting. They may rehearse dozens of possible outcomes, responses, and scenarios: What if the person sounds annoyed? What if they ask a question I wasn’t expecting? What if I forget what I wanted to say? This mental rehearsal can begin hours—or even days—before the actual call, taking up valuable cognitive and emotional resources. Sometimes the preparation becomes so exhausting that the person avoids the call entirely.

Underlying this behavior is the intense fear of being misunderstood, accidentally interrupting, or saying something inappropriate. These are not irrational fears: real-life experiences may have shown that tone, pacing, or hesitations lead to awkward or hurtful interactions. Even a minor misstep can linger in memory for years, reinforcing the belief that phoning is unsafe or shame-inducing.

Adding to this burden is the unpredictability of what happens when the call is placed. The recipient might not answer. A voicemail might pick up, requiring a completely different tone and message. A gatekeeper—such as a receptionist or colleague—might ask unexpected questions. The person on the other end might be rushed, curt, or worse, confrontational. Each of these outcomes must be mentally prepared for, and each adds to the psychological weight of the task.

In this context, an outgoing call is not a spontaneous or casual event. It’s a performance under pressure, with no script and an uncertain audience. The dread it creates isn’t about laziness or avoidance—it’s about the real risk of emotional harm and the exhaustion of managing every possible social outcome in advance.

⏳ “Just Pick Up the Phone” Is Not a Neutral Statement

The phrase “just pick up the phone” is often delivered with casual confidence. It implies ease, speed, and efficiency. But for many autistic individuals, that suggestion lands like a command to walk a tightrope without a safety net. What appears to be a quick fix from the outside is, internally, a layered and taxing process.

The task of phoning someone cannot be evaluated solely by the time spent on the call itself. Instead, it has to be measured as a sequence: the anticipatory anxiety leading up to the call, the effort required to remain mentally present during it, and the recovery time needed afterward to stabilize focus and emotional balance. Each stage carries a cognitive and emotional cost. This cumulative toll often turns a two-minute task into a multi-hour drain on the person’s day.

This mismatch in perception creates friction between neurodivergent and neurotypical communicators. The person making the call may assume they’re helping by “getting things done quickly,” unaware that they are unintentionally bypassing consent, choice, and cognitive needs. For the receiver, it can feel like being cornered—forced into a demanding task with no preparation and no graceful exit.

When phone calls are treated as the default or preferred mode of communication, it puts neurodivergent individuals at a structural disadvantage. Their boundaries are more likely to be crossed, their energy more easily depleted, and their needs more often overlooked. This isn’t about being difficult or dramatic. It’s about recognizing the real, measurable differences in how human brains handle interruptions, transitions, and spontaneous verbal interaction.

Respect begins with understanding, and understanding begins with listening. For many neurodivergent people, hearing “Can we talk by phone?” rather than being called without notice can make all the difference. Communication should be collaborative, not imposed. And in a truly inclusive environment, no one would be expected to “just pick up the phone” without being asked first.

🌱 So What Helps?

Creating a more inclusive and respectful communication environment starts with acknowledging that phone calls are not accessible or manageable for everyone. Written communication—such as emails, text messages, or chat—is often far less intrusive and much more suitable for autistic individuals. It provides the time and space needed to process, reflect, and respond without the pressure of real-time verbal interaction. When someone asks for a written alternative, that request should be honored without negotiation—it is a boundary, not a preference.

If a phone call is absolutely necessary, it should only happen with prior agreement. Reaching out first by message allows the recipient to emotionally and mentally prepare. Ideally, the call should be scheduled in advance and include a clearly stated agenda. Knowing what will be discussed reduces anxiety and allows for mental scripting. Once the call begins, it is essential to adhere strictly to the agreed-upon topics. Spontaneous additions, off-topic diversions, or deeper questions than outlined can break the script and derail the person’s ability to participate effectively. Even well-meant follow-up questions can introduce unexpected stress if they fall outside the prepared scope.

Advance notice of both the time and the subject matter is not just helpful—it is critical. A short summary of the call’s purpose lets the person rehearse their answers, manage emotional readiness, and reduce the pressure of real-time processing. When the call stays predictable—beginning and ending as expected, without surprise twists—it becomes significantly more manageable.

Most important of all is a shift in mindset. Instead of assuming what works best based on convenience or habit, we should aim for communication that accommodates a range of cognitive needs. Respect and empathy must guide these choices. In doing so, we create an environment where participation is possible for everyone—not just those who are most comfortable on the phone.

Additional resources

• [1] Howard, P. L., & Sedgewick, F. (2021). ‘Anything but the phone!’: Communication mode preferences in the autism community . Autism, 25(8), 2265-2278. (Original work published 2021)