I used to think if a product worked for me, it was well-designed.
If I could open the app, follow the instructions, or navigate the interface, then surely it worked for everyone.
But over time, I started seeing what I’d missed. I saw products that worked brilliantly for a select few but left others locked out. I noticed events that felt welcoming for some and impossible for others.
I met people who had to hack, translate, or struggle just to use tools that should’ve made their lives easier. Not because they weren’t capable, but because design didn’t consider them.
That’s why I think the 7 Principles of Universal Design is a useful framework for everyone who builds.
What are the 7 Principles of Universal Design
Back in 1997, a group of researchers led by architect Ronald Mace at North Carolina State University set out to solve a problem:
Most of the world is built for a default user.
You know the one: able-bodied, neurotypical, speaks the dominant language, fits into standard sizes. While everyone else is left to adapt, struggle or get shut out entirely.
The team’s belief was powerful:
“Create environments that are usable by everyone, to the greatest extent possible, without the need for adaptation or specialised design.”
The results were the 7 Principles of Universal Design:
- Equitable Use
- Flexibility in Use
- Simple and Intuitive Use
- Perceptible Information
- Tolerance for Error
- Low Physical Effort
- Size and Space for Approach and Use
Originally created with physical environments in mind, these principles are just as powerful when applied to product design, especially today.
When you design for inclusion it makes your product easier to use, faster to adopt, and more likely to grow. Let’s walk through the principles and how they can help you build better.
Principle 1. Equitable use
“The design is useful and marketable to people with diverse abilities.”
This principle is about fairness, plain and simple. It asks: does everyone get the same level of access, dignity, and respect?
What’s intuitive for me might be frustrating, or downright impossible, for someone else. Equitable use means designing in a way that gives everyone the same quality of experience. Not a separate version. Not a workaround.
I’ve heard the horror stories of event planners who hired sleek venues with great views, amazing food, and no wheelchair access for their distinguished guest.
If you’re building a product, don’t make accessibility an afterthought. Don’t hide alt text behind a click or force screen reader users into a stripped-back “lite” mode.
Build it in from the start. Make it default. Then test your product with a range of people – different abilities, languages, and needs. If only one type of user is having a great experience, it’s not done yet.
Because if it doesn’t work for everyone, it doesn’t work.
Principle 2. Flexibility in Use
“The design accommodates a wide range of individual preferences and abilities.”
I love this one because it speaks to something we often forget – not everyone thinks, moves, or interacts the same way.
Whether someone’s left-handed, neurodivergent, or multilingual, flexibility is what makes experiences accessible and enjoyable.
It’s about offering choice. Some people prefer to read. Others like to listen. Some navigate with a mouse, others with a keyboard, voice, or assistive tech.
One size doesn’t fit all – and it doesn’t have to. Flexibility means giving people options: transcripts alongside videos, adjustable font sizes, colour contrast modes, multiple ways to complete a task.
When I run workshops, I always build in choice – because not everyone learns or participates the same way. The same goes for product design. The more choice you offer, the more people can engage on their terms.
That’s not “extra.” That’s just good design.
Principle 3. Simple and Intuitive Use
“Use of the design is easy to understand, regardless of the user’s experience, knowledge, language skills, or concentration level.”
This one hits close to home. I spend a lot of time helping smart people explain complex ideas simply – founders pitching to investors, teams presenting research, leaders making strategy feel human.
And time after time, the same problem shows up: we assume people know more than they do. We design for ourselves, not our audience.
Simple doesn’t make you feel stupid. It makes you feel smart. It feels natural. Like, “Oh yeah, I get this.” Even if you’ve never seen it before.
So strip out the jargon. Use icons and buttons that behave the way people expect. Guide the user through with clear steps and helpful cues.
Then watch someone use your product without stepping in. Where they hesitate, your design needs work.
Principle 4. Perceptible Information
“The design communicates necessary information effectively, regardless of ambient conditions or the user’s sensory abilities.”
Ever tried using an app in bright sunlight and couldn’t see a thing? Or filled in a form where the help text vanished the moment you clicked?
That’s what this principle tackles. You make sure the important info reaches people, no matter the situation, or how they sense the world.
Don’t just use colour to signal a message, back it up with text. Use audio, yes, but also captions. Think about different lighting, noise levels, screen sizes, and sensory preferences.
When you design, I want you to imagine you’re in a tall building that’s burst into flames.
As you navigate through the flashing lights, alarms and smoke, can you see the tiny evacuation map you were given on your first day that’s buried in an email.
It seems ridiculous. But so many designers create for a perfect world, without considering what else may be going on. When your life depends on it, maybe you will too.
Principle 5. Tolerance for Error
The design minimises hazards and the adverse consequences of accidental or unintended actions.
We’ve all hit “delete” when we meant to hit “save.” Great products know this, and forgive it.
I love this principle because it sees us as we really are: distracted, tired, rushed. Not at our best. And it designs for that version of us.
So add “undo” buttons. Confirmation messages before irreversible actions. Clear warnings when something’s about to break, delete, or cost money.
The goal isn’t to stop all mistakes. That’s impossible. It’s simply to make sure they don’t ruin someone’s day when they inevitably do happen.
Principle 6. Low Physical Effort
“The design can be used efficiently and comfortably, with a minimum of fatigue.”
This one’s easy to overlook, until you’re stuck clicking 12 times just to log in, or stretching your thumb across a screen to reach a button in the far corner.
Design should make tasks feel smooth, not exhausting.
Keep interactions short. Make tap targets big enough. Let people navigate without precision or perfect timing. Reduce the number of actions needed to get to a result.
Whether someone’s using your app with one hand, using assistive tech, or just having a low-energy day, it should still work. Comfort isn’t luxury. It’s the baseline.
Principle 7. Size and Space for Approach and Use
“Appropriate size and space is provided for approach, reach, manipulation, and use regardless of the user’s body size, posture, or mobility.”
This principle is a reminder that not everyone interacts with your product the same way.
Are the buttons big enough to tap with a shaky hand? Can the interface be used without fine motor control? Can someone holding a baby – or lying in bed – still reach what they need?
Don’t assume people are sitting upright, using two hands, with perfect vision and dexterity.
Build for reality. That means spacing elements so they’re not crammed together. Avoiding tiny buttons. Making sure your layout still works when zoomed or rotated or scaled up 200%.
Because real people are using your product in real ways. The job of design is to meet them there.
Final thoughts
What I’ve learned is this: universal design is designing for dignity.
It’s for the dad trying to tap a button one-handed while holding a sleeping child. The woman with arthritis struggling to twist a bottle cap. The teenager navigating an app in their second language. The person recovering from surgery. The rest of us just trying to get through a tough day.
Design lives in the everyday tools we all use. And that means we all have a role in making it better. Ask different questions. Look for the friction others might miss. Build with care, flexibility, and respect from the start.
Because when you design for the edges, you don’t exclude the middle – you lift everyone. And once you start seeing the world this way, you can’t unsee it. You just build better.
