I write this not solely for myself but for every individual who has ever felt dismissed, disregarded, or devalued by your organisation. This is my story—a story of humiliation, frustration, and a simple yet profound demand for basic respect.
On 5th November 2024, I entered a Tesco store as an Autistic man with CPTSD. Carrying my diagnosis card, I trusted that Tesco—a company promoting its support for the Sunflower Lanyard Scheme—would treat me with the dignity and understanding its marketing claims to uphold. I was there to collect medication, not to be met with the hostility and humiliation that ensued.
Instead of being supported, I was belittled, threatened, and ultimately escorted from the premises like a criminal, all while onlookers jeered. This happened despite having paid for my items. The experience was devastating, leaving me questioning how a company of Tesco’s stature could fail so profoundly to support a vulnerable customer.
Since then, my attempts to seek accountability and resolution have been met with silence, deflection, and excuses. Rather than a compassionate response from Tesco’s CEO customer services team, I was handed off to Compliance—who treated me as a mere process rather than a lifelong customer betrayed by a system that uses neurodivergent-friendly marketing as a façade. Tesco’s proclaimed support is hollow, built on nothing more than a paragraph on a website—a promise your staff clearly neither understand nor respect.
Let me be unequivocal: this is not just about my individual experience. It is about a broader culture within Tesco that permits the mistreatment of vulnerable individuals. Your payment policies and the training of your staff have failed catastrophically. This is not just my fight; it is a fight against the systemic failures that perpetuate inequality and abuse within your organisation.
Your public alignment with initiatives like the Sunflower Lanyard Scheme is meaningless if your staff are not trained to honour the commitments those initiatives represent. The culture at Tesco does not reflect the inclusivity you claim to champion. Meanwhile, your solicitor appears more focused on stalling than addressing the clear and undeniable discrimination at the heart of this issue.
For over two months, I have waited for Tesco to demonstrate integrity and accountability. Instead, I’ve been made to feel invisible—as though my experience, and by extension I, do not matter. This silence is deafening and deeply revealing.
To Tesco, I say this: I will not be ignored. My voice, and the voices of others who have been mistreated, will not be silenced. Your failure to act will be brought into the public domain, not out of spite, but out of necessity. People deserve to see how businesses like yours treat their most vulnerable customers.
This is not a battle I sought, nor is it one I relish. My life has far more meaningful pursuits—growing flowers, recovering from CPTSD, and embracing the contributions I’ve made to society as a man with Asperger’s. But your lack of respect has left me no choice.
I have written a book documenting this experience, and I will publish it. It will serve not only as an account of your failings but also as a manual for organisations like yours to better understand equality, inclusion, and respect.
Equality is not a privilege; it is a fundamental right. It is a scale that demands balance—a principle of justice and fairness. Your failure to recognise this is precisely why I am compelled to take a stand.
Tesco, think again.
Yours sincerely,
David Neil Bromley Grant