Inclusiveness: And What Actually Matters
Inclusiveness has a definitional problem. Most people will tell you what makes a place accessible by rattling off a list of things a building does or does not have. Those things are written down, inspected and published so that everyone can check them before leaving the house. Now go find out if a hospital waiting room will be noisy on a Tuesday afternoon. Whether the lighting in the benefits office flickers. Whether the school hall will be full at pick up time. There is no information anywhere like that. Not in the building code. Not on the venue website. Not in the reviews. For a large number of people, that is the information that determines whether they can go. The question people actually ask before leaving their house This is rarely "can I get through the door?" It is more like: how loud will it be, how bright, how many people, can I predict what will happen once I am in it. These are not choices. They are the difference between showing up for an appointment and needing to reschedule it for the fourth time. An autistic community survey published in BMJ Open puts numbers on this. Of the 507 autistic adults surveyed, 80% said they found it hard to visit a GP, with the environment of the waiting room one of the highest rated barriers, cited by 51%. People said they felt uncomfortable at the doctor's office because of noise, crowds and bright lights. The same study recorded adverse outcomes such as unaddressed physical and mental health issues and missed screening appointments. A waiting room is not a lifestyle option. It is the final twenty metres of accessing healthcare. The pattern exists in other sectors as well. A National Autistic Society survey of more than 7,000 autistic people, family…
Read more