Bridging the Gap: Why Good Designers Create Inaccessible Websites and How to Fix It
The Accessibility Paradox
Every designer I know is a good person. They genuinely care about users. I've never heard a colleague say, “I don’t care if someone can’t read this text,” or “Not my problem if this interface confuses people.” Yet, we’ve all witnessed it: a beautifully crafted website that someone with low vision cannot navigate, or a sleek app that leaves a user with motor impairments frustrated and stuck. How can well-intentioned designers produce experiences that exclude people?
The High Stakes of Design
Let’s be clear: this isn’t a minor inconvenience. In his powerful essay This Is All There Is, Aral Balkan argues that nearly everything we design can influence life and death events. A poorly designed bus timetable app might cause someone to miss their daughter’s fifth birthday party—a life event. Or worse, it could prevent someone from saying goodbye to a dying grandmother—a death event. The consequences of exclusion are real and weighty.
So why does exclusion still happen? We know the facts: not everyone sees, hears, thinks, or moves in the same way. We have guidelines, heuristics, and best practices. Yet, year after year, inaccessible designs persist.
Root Cause: Cognitive Overload
I believe the core problem is simple: there’s too much to remember. Designers today are expected to master a vast landscape—typography, color theory, interaction design, responsive layouts, performance, security, and yes, accessibility. Add to that the ever‑evolving WCAG standards, ARIA roles, and inclusive design techniques, and it’s overwhelming. Even the most dedicated designer can’t hold every rule in their head at once. We forget. And forgetting leads to exclusion.
The Burden of Remembering
Consider the breadth of topics covered on A List Apart alone: from CSS Grid to cognitive psychology, from content strategy to motion design. Multiply that by dozens of other resources a designer should internalize. No human can recall all that guidance in the heat of a deadline. Something has to give—and too often, it’s accessibility.
A Solution: Recognition Instead of Recall
Jakob Nielsen’s classic 10 Usability Heuristics (mid‑1990s, but still gold) offer a hint. Heuristic № 6 states: “Recognition rather than recall” – meaning users shouldn’t have to remember information; it should be visible or easily retrievable. I propose we flip this heuristic for designers. Instead of requiring designers to recall every accessibility guideline, let’s make the information visible or easily retrievable while they work.
Adapting Nielsen’s Heuristic for Designers
What does that look like in practice? It could mean integrating accessibility checklists directly into design tools, like color contrast warnings inside a color picker, or automated alerts when text falls below minimum size. It could mean using design systems that prompt for alt text, captions, and focus order as steps in the workflow—not afterthoughts. The goal is to shift from memorization to inline guidance.
A wonderful resource is Sarah Horton and Whitney Quesenbery’s book A Web for Everyone: Designing Accessible User Experiences. They emphasize that accessibility shouldn’t be a separate checklist; it should be woven into every stage of design. By embedding cues and reminders into our processes, we reduce cognitive load and make it easier to do the right thing.
Practical Steps Forward
- Build accessibility checks into your design tools – Use plugins that flag low contrast, missing labels, or insufficient touch targets.
- Create a shared design system with accessibility baked in – Include accessible color palettes, typography scales, and interaction patterns.
- Run regular micro‑audits – Not full audits, but quick spot checks for common issues (e.g., keyboard navigation).
- Pair design with front‑end early – Developers can catch accessibility gaps that pure visual design misses.
- Use storytelling to make the stakes real – Remind the team of Aral Balkan’s bus timetable example. It’s not about aesthetics; it’s about people’s lives.
We don’t need more guilt. We need better systems. By designing our design process itself to be more accessible to designers, we create a virtuous cycle: less exclusion, more inclusion, and a web that truly works for everyone.