When “ Love on the Spectrum ” creator Cian O’Clery asks Tanner, a young man with bright eyes, to rate on a scale of 1 to 10 how much he wants to find love, the 24-year-old replies, “12!”

That kind of enthusiasm for dating is typical for the show, which assists individuals with autism diagnoses in finding a romantic partner. “Not every person [on the spectrum] needs help finding love. However, some individuals do, and others really desire it,” O'Clery explains.

“I’d always wanted to make something in the dating space that featured real people, and that just felt a bit more truthful and honest — and represented more than the potentially narrow field of Instagram models on islands,” O’Clery says. “It felt like a great opportunity to do a few things: one, to introduce people to a large group of diverse people on the spectrum, which I think was missing in media, and also helping some people out who might want some help and support in that space.”

The Netflix series, for which two seasons were filmed in Australia before heading to the U.S. for another two, is a reality show that truly reflects reality. The crew assists participants (who are intentionally not called contestants and are referred to only by their first name) in finding a match in their area, but beyond that, the story unfolds organically. There are no contrived storylines, “villain edits” or producers interfering with experiences, except for the occasional fourth-wall break from O’Clery offering some extra encouragement or advice from behind the camera.

The “set” is as unobtrusive as possible, using smaller cameras, no added lighting, and the crew “hiding in corners” during dates. “I try and be very quiet and have a minimal presence. We also have a very small crew… I shoot the second camera as well,” O’Clery says. “[On dates], we’re generally observing from a distance, so people aren’t necessarily aware that we’re there.”

With its lack of producer-driven drama, the docuseries’ success hinges on a strong cast. And unlike other reality series, there’s no dedicated casting team. Instead, the producer takes on this responsibility; this allows for a continuous casting process where the team is constantly seeking new stories (enabling popular figures like Michael to join the cast midway through the first season in Australia). It also ensures a “continuity of care and support,” O’Clery explains. “The individuals who first met them are often the ones who are there with them on set when we’re filming.

The team initially sought participants through connections within the autism community, building relationships with various organizations that support people on the spectrum to spread the word.

“People reach out, and then we, as a team, meet with them,” O'Clery says. “Since the show has gained popularity, we don't really need to put out a call for participants anymore. We're overwhelmed with applications because there are so many people who want this opportunity.”

Now, the challenging part is saying “no” to people, as the show has limited space, and many spots are filled by cast members from previous seasons. “You try to represent as much diversity within the spectrum as you possibly can and strive to make sure that people's stories feel different,” O'Clery says. “[You want] people who are engaging and interesting — and want to find love.”

While earlier seasons provide assurance to potential participants that their journey will be handled with care, O'Clery acknowledges that joining the series requires a leap of faith. “It's a significant amount of trust people are placing in us,” he says.

As a part of earning that trust, the show has formalized its representational efforts to ensure that it’s portraying autism accurately and respectfully, not only hiring several neurodiverse crew members but a permanent autism consultant to lead sensitivity training sessions. The series also brings in dating coach Jennifer Cook, who advises the participants and is on the spectrum herself.

“The people themselves who we’re filming, to us, they’re also advisors,” says O’Clery. “They know what’s right for them.”

The producers have many factors to consider when playing matchmaker — but many of their decisions come down to “gut feeling.”

“It can be difficult. The spectrum is so diverse, and so many people are on different levels of understanding. It’s really just trying to find people that are on a similar wavelength that we think might get along … And it’s great when it works.”

Often, it does, such as with Abbey and David in the U.S. and Ronan and Katie in Australia, just two couples who are still together. Even when participants don’t find long-lasting romantic love, they can make new friends, O’Clery notes. Since appearing on the American series, James has developed a wider social circle that includes former romantic interests Maggie and Emma.

Furthermore, many of the participants enjoy newfound stardom after the show, like Michael, who is set to act in ABC’s “Austin.”

Beyond the stars it has helped create, the show's impact is multifaceted : O'Clery is proud that it documents a diverse range of individuals with autism, breaking away from the Hollywood trend of featuring just one autistic character in a series cast.

“We do hear a lot of stories from people saying that watching the show has helped motivate them to start their own [dating] journey,” he says. While O’Clery hints that the show might not be returning to Australia soon, he says he’s open to taking it to more countries, specifically ones like France that could use a better understanding of autism. For now, the series is more than “two-thirds” into filming its third American season.

The show's second season in the United States is nominated for four Emmy Awards this September. But even with its critical acclaim, O'Cleary states, “The most important critics of the show are the people in the show.” “We're truly happy that the people we film are happy.”