Redefining Inclusive Architecture

The Real Deal With Inclusive Architecture

The definition of inclusive architecture today is often reduced to a simple rule of thumb: design now, and retrofit ramps later. This "definition" of inclusiveness is surprisingly exclusive at its core, excluding anyone who doesn’t classify as “someone with special needs”, and reflecting our ignorant, callous and insensitive attitude towards a highly grave subject.

I will never forget the moment that completely redefined my understanding of inclusive design. In my aunt’s home, a confined space meant to store a gas cylinder became a deadly trap. With no ventilation, a gas leak slowly built up, unnoticed, until it tragically erupted in an explosion. My aunt and her four-year-old child lost their lives that day.

This wasn’t about accommodating disabilities; this was about lack of accommodation for sensibilities. It was a stark reminder that when we fail to prioritise the most basic principles of safety, we set the stage for disaster.

This heart-wrenching tragedy made me realise that architectural inclusivity goes far beyond catering to the physically disabled. It's about creating spaces that take into account every scenario, every possibility, every need, ensuring that no one is ever forgotten in the design process.

Inclusive Architecture 2.0

Inclusive Architecture should not be about ticking boxes for accessibility. It should be about creating environments that are flexible, intuitive, and consider every user’s needs, whether that’s the elderly, children, or someone with a disability. We can’t continue to design for design’s sake; we’d need to think about designs that revolve around lives.

Inclusive Architecture redefined, or Inclusive Architecture 2.0, makes sure that no user is left out of the design process. That every experience of the user with the space is seamless. That the space understands the user, not the other way around. That the users’ needs, current and future, permanent and transient, are planned for, and reflect in today’s design.

Inclusive Architecture 2.0 is rooted in empathy, not in the search for efficiency.

The Path to Achieving Inclusive Architecture 2.0

Here’s a simple path you can follow in your next residential project (I chose a residential project for the sake of simplicity. You should easily be able to draw parallels between this and projects of other types):

1. Meet the entire family before taking on a project. Talk to them about their current issues and expectations from this project.
2. Observe the family in their natural environment to spot needs they couldn’t articulate.
3. Take continuous feedback from the family on your designs. Show, don’t tell. Prototypes, however trivial they are, work better than drawings. Get them to  commit to the agreed upon version of the design. Make them understand that any further changes beyond this will result in delays and additional costs.
4. Anticipate typical future needs arising from pregnancy, illness, old age etc. This is something you won't get feedback on. The family might even be against you for including height-adjustable countertops, foyers and nooks for privacy and handlebars next to toilet seats, but they’ll thank you when the time comes.
5. Make sure that your designs get implemented as per plan. Inclusivity on paper may not translate to inclusivity on the site. Use the site visits as an opportunity to educate the family about why inclusivity is important and how your designs will contribute to the well-being for a long time to come.

Designing A Truly Inclusive Future

The biggest challenge you’ll face in designing inclusively is client education (or the lack of it). Clients’ reactions to inclusive design range from plain apathy to outright dismissal. You’ll hear comments like “We don’t need it” and “Nobody at home is a cripple”. Once you do (because you will), take a deep breath and think about why you became an Architect in the first place.

You chose this profession because you wanted to design spaces that improve the well-being of the inhabitants. You listened to humiliating comments in design juries because you had a bigger goal — to make this world a better place.

While you’re at it, why not make the world a better place for everyone? What if architecture became the bridge between humanity and the natural world? What if spaces not only accommodated, but celebrated life — spaces where humans, animals and plants thrived in ecosystems created by you?