The call is coming from inside the house: The Framework of Exclusion

If you think about design failures, it’s easy to compartmentalize them into categories. We talk about urban spaces that overlook the needs of wheelchair users, the health tech that doesn’t consider people with darker skin, or workplace policies that disproportionately burden women. But what if we could bring all these stories under one framework, one that reveals a systemic pattern rather than a series of isolated missteps?

The world we live in, from the cars we drive to the apps we use, is designed with a skewed perception of who matters. In reality, inequitable design is a global issue, and it’s pervasive. When you zoom out, you see that this problem isn’t confined to any one sector or group; it’s a widespread phenomenon. And to address it, we need to see the bigger picture.

The Myth of the Average and the Perception of Neutrality

Much of the blame lies with a long-standing approach to design based on the concept of the “average” person. In practice, designing for the average often means designing for nobody, or, more specifically, designing for a narrow subset of people who fit outdated and exclusionary norms. Todd Rose’s The End of Average drives home the point: the idea of the average person is a myth, yet it shapes everything from school curriculums to medical equipment.

But there’s something even more insidious at play: perceived neutrality. Designers and decision-makers often operate under the false assumption that their choices are neutral. The idea is that things like gender, race, and ability shouldn’t matter—or worse, that these factors can be ignored without consequence. This belief in neutrality leads to designs that center the needs of dominant groups while marginalizing everyone else. For example, voice recognition systems built to work best with male voices aren’t just inconvenient for women and non-binary people; they’re a direct result of perceived neutrality that ignores the diversity of human voices.

The double-edged sword of the “average” myth and perceived neutrality doesn’t just lead to oversight it causes active harm. Take the case of fire safety equipment. Firefighters have historically been assumed to be male, so protective gear often fails to accommodate different body shapes. Female firefighters and smaller-framed men end up wearing gear that compromises their safety. Similarly, agricultural tools in developing nations are often designed with male users in mind, making it difficult for the women who form a large portion of the workforce to use them effectively. These aren’t isolated shortcomings—they’re systemic flaws that come from designing for an imagined “neutral” user who simply doesn’t exist.

Disrupting the Silo Mentality: Naming the Framework of Exclusion

To understand inequitable design as a global phenomenon, we need to disrupt the siloed approach we’ve been using to address it. We often treat each design failure as a standalone issue: gender inequity in one category, racial inequity in another, disability in yet another. While this approach can help draw attention to specific injustices, it misses a crucial insight: these failures are interconnected and stem from the same flawed design ethos.

Think of this ethos as a Framework of Exclusion, a set of norms that permeates every level of design and decision-making. The real issue isn’t that we have different problems in different sectors but that our entire approach to design prioritizes the needs and experiences of a select few while marginalizing everyone else. This isn’t just bad design; it’s a systemic problem that impacts billions of people.

To make this idea more concrete, let’s look at how infrastructure projects disproportionately impact low-income and marginalized communities. Highways are often built through historically Black neighborhoods, displacing residents and cutting them off from essential services. At the same time, urban planning decisions rarely account for the realities faced by caregivers, who are predominantly women, leading to public transit systems that are inaccessible or unsafe. This is not just a series of unfortunate oversights; it’s a global design pattern rooted in a history of inequity.

By naming this Framework of Exclusion, we challenge the idea that these are unrelated issues. Instead, we frame them as a coherent global problem that requires a unified solution. This language helps us break down the false divisions that keep us from tackling design inequities as a collective issue that spans industries and geographies.

Recognizing the Framework of Exclusion is the first step, but shifting it requires consistent, deliberate action. Here are concrete ways to start embedding equity into your day-to-day work, regardless of your role or sector:

1. Start with real-world users, not imagined ones.
Design with specific communities in mind especially those historically excluded. If you’re building a tool, program, policy, or system, ask: Who will this work least well for? Who has been underserved in the past? Prioritize their needs first, and build out from there.

2. Seek disaggregated data and let it shape your decisions.
Aggregate data conceals disparities. Whenever possible, gather and use data that’s broken down by race, gender, disability, income level, geography, and more. Don’t stop at collection, ensure the findings directly inform your design, policies, and evaluations.

3. Build for iteration, not perfection.
Equity-centred work can’t be one-and-done. Create space for testing, feedback, and refinement. Build check-ins into your process: Who’s benefitting? Who’s burdened? Iterate based on real-world impact.

4. Audit your defaults.
Examine the assumptions baked into your work. What counts as a “normal” schedule, a “standard” body, or a “typical” user? Challenge these assumptions openly and ask whether they serve dominant convenience or actual need.

5. Build accountability into your systems.
Whether you’re managing a team, designing a product, or allocating funding, embed accountability. Define who is responsible for equity outcomes. Make equity KPIs as trackable and reportable as timelines and budgets.

6. Stop siloing equity concerns.
Avoid separating gender equity from accessibility, or racial equity from economic access. Start mapping the intersections. Instead of asking “Is this accessible?” or “Is this gender-inclusive?” ask “Who does this design leave out—and why?”

7. Shift from empathy to responsibility.
You don’t need to fully understand someone’s experience to be accountable for whether your work harms or supports them. Move beyond performative inclusion efforts and focus on redistributing access, resources, and opportunity through the design itself.

Shifting Toward Equity as a Technical Skill

This is where the concept of Equity as a Technical Skill comes into play. Equity as a technical skill asks designers to use disaggregated data, recognize the non-neutrality of their decisions, and iteratively refine their work to ensure it serves historically marginalized groups. It’s about making equity measurable, intentional, and embedded into every stage of the design process.

Imagine healthcare research that actively seeks out differences in outcomes based on race, gender, and income level, then builds protocols to mitigate disparities. Or imagine a city that prioritizes walkability and safety for those most at risk, from children to the elderly. When we make design decisions that uplift the most marginalized, we elevate outcomes for everyone.

We can no longer afford to think of design failures as one-off cases. If our solutions aren’t inclusive, they aren’t solutions at all. The way forward demands a systemic, interconnected approach, where equity is seen not as a buzzword but as a core component of design excellence.

Because if we’re truly committed to being good at our jobs (whether we’re architects, app developers, or agricultural engineers) we must start designing for the full spectrum of human experience.