We’ve been exploring the theme of empathy for a while now and we thought it would be interesting to talk about the manifestations of it in our daily lives. From the products we use to the built environments that surround us, a deep sense of empathy makes lives better for everyone. In fact, it is easier to notice the obvious lack of empathy when you are in the minority – from Chinese-only notice signs to ramp-less building access, life can become a lot more difficult for some when empathy is not a feature in design.

For resources, we looked at the following resource from the World Bank .

Good design implicitly should encode empathy. Any self-respecting designer is aware of the term “user-centric design”, where products and solutions are built to address user pain-points and needs. If you don’t have a process to collect user data and insights, you actually wouldn’t be a good designer. But one can be a good user-centric designer and still lack the ability to perceive the broader set of users and needs beyond what they are accustomed to perceive.

A simple explanation for this is that we hardwire our brain to recognize patterns and occurrences that we are ourselves familiar with. Not everyone struggles evidently and even less actually vocalize their struggles post-hoc. I recall friends with special learning needs not wanting to share such difficulties less they get ostracized and shunned by the rest of the class. But I would have never known to look out or be cognizant of such needs unless someone raised the issue to me. I was looking out for friends who had the same struggles as me – not being able to figure out a problem set merely because I wasn’t paying attention in class.

There is an onus then that in all design we aim to look out for blind spots. Whether its in the design of technology or the crafting of policy, it is important to ask ourselves of who we may have not included and who we may have inadvertently excluded in our designs. It is then critical that we seek to understand, build empathy and ensure that we cover their needs in our designs.

There are simple steps to address blind spots. The first, of course, is to have diverse teams that can speak to a diverse range of needs. For example, my office building doesn’t have prayer rooms for our Muslim colleagues. Instead, I accidentally walk in on some praying in the staircase landing, quietly and quickly. It’s unfortunate that in the design of our offices, we never factored the experiences of our Muslim colleagues into our buildings. Empathy here would convince us that no one deserves to conduct their religious activities in a dusty staircase landing, yet I still see no change in anyones’ efforts to accommodate such needs. Would this have been addressed if the design team had a Muslim member who was empowered to speak up? I believe so.

The second big step that can be taken is to keep up to national and international standards. The scholarship around Inclusive Design for those with special needs is rich and helpful. The commentary on race-based inclusiveness in policy and product design is vibrant. There’s a surprising amount of standards out there that one can simply aim to satisfy to at least hit a baseline of empathy in design. Such codifications ensure our blind spots are covered by others who have done the work.

In our discussion, we highlighted the fact that to some people, the above measures are considered controversial because it suggests a floodgate of desires and needs to be accommodated. Such slippery slope arguments are frequented by an oppressive majority that don’t like sacrificing resources where they do not stand to gain. In most of these cases, the upside is concentrated to those who have never had access or convenience in the first place. That to me is the whole point. It is not an advantage they are given, merely a chance to live as normally as the rest of us.

That’s something I can buy into.