3.1 Methodology

3.1.1 Inclusive Design

The Inclusive Design Research Centre (IDRC) defines inclusive design as a process that recognizes diversity and uniqueness, uses inclusive processes and tools, and emphasizes the broader beneficial impact of design solutions regardless of intended audience. Inclusive design is an essential tool to address the mismatch between disabled students’ needs and the design of digital learning material.

Mismatch

Traditional design methods create and perpetuate mismatches between the design of objects, buildings, meetings, and things and the diverse range of the ways human beings interact with them. A significant early influence on the design of consumer products was Henry Dreyfuss’s 1967 The Measure of Man. This work introduced anthropometrics which focused on the average physical dimensions of humans (Cassim et al., 2007). Assumptions about what constitutes the ‘average’ human excludes many. However, the mismatch between users’ needs and a final design was considered irrelevant as those most excluded were older and disabled people who were perceived to not contribute or consume. This prejudice slowly changed, particularly in tandem with the disability rights movement (as discussed in section 2.2.1). The ethical necessity of equal rights, alongside the realization that the disabled and elderly were active members of society and the economy, spurred designers and producers to consider their access needs. This led to early iterations of inclusive design which advocated for “a transference of responsibility from the user of design – be it product, service or environment – to the design process itself” (p. 13). This transference requires an understanding of the mismatch between user needs and design.

Keates & Clarkson (2002) argue that when the features of a product place undue capability demands on a user, problems using the product come from the poor design, not the user. The poor design is mismatched with user capabilities, habits, or needs. Where the requirements to use a product are “over and above those required for the task itself . . . the user can be considered to have been disabled by the equipment” (p. 27). For example, a scanned copy of a book is not machine readable and thus screen reader users cannot access the content, text to speech tool users cannot use their necessary technology, readers with low vision cannot increase the font size or contrast, and all readers will struggle with the low quality of the text. All the decisions that went into the design of that hypothetical reading material disable learners, forcing them into workarounds or to miss out entirely.

These types of design decisions, according to Roger Coleman, contribute to scenarios in which “people are increasingly disabled by a mismatch between the environment they live in—buildings, products, and services—and their own changing capabilities” or, more succinctly, where people are “disabled by design” (2001, section 4.2). Following this logic, there are no disabled students, only students disabled by inaccessible digital learning material. The mismatch between the design of something and how it is used disables people.

Holmes (2018) focused on mismatch as “a byproduct of how our world is designed” (p. 2) which forces people “to adapt themselves to make objects work” (p. 6). Holmes, like Coleman and Keates & Clarkson, recognizes that disability is caused by mismatch. The importance for designers and design thinking to avoid creating mismatches is key to more inclusive futures; “the people who design the touchpoints of society determine who can participate and who’s left out” (p. 6). As the world, particularly technology and education, is in constant flux and evolution, the need to change inclusively may be forgotten; as Swan (2025) writes, “innovation isn’t valuable if it creates barriers or complexity”. The design, ongoing maintenance, and iterations of designs are key to inclusion and accessibility.

Mismatch arises when designs have not considered the range of possible human interactions. Cassim et al. (2007) suggest poor design is often the result of

No one in the design, engineering or production chain [having] actually tried the new product or service as a naïve consumer, because if they had, then the consumer would not have to experience such problems and frustrations. (p. 15)

In the case of digital learning materials, instructors and staff may not be considering the consumption of content; their focus may be limited to the creation, curation, and distribution of any material regardless of user needs. They may even feel they are doing something helpful in the example of the scanned book. However, these decisions do not include consideration of diverse perspectives and means of access. Holmes argues that designing with excluded groups is essential to effective design. Holmes (2018) encourages designers to:

Seek out the perspectives of people who are, or risk being, the most excluded by a solution. Often, the people who carry the greatest burden of exclusion also have the greatest insight into how to shift design toward inclusion. (p. 32)

By including people in the design process, the risk of exclusion and the likelihood of required retrofits greatly decrease (Swan, 2025). A product that matches or allows for multiple means of access does not need to be changed.

Holmes emphasizes the need to enable and draw on the full range of human diversity to maximize inclusion. An inclusive designer, according to Holmes, is “someone, arguably anyone, who recognizes and remedies mismatched interactions between people and their world” (2018, p. 56). Inclusive design works to align potential solutions with the wide spectrum of diverse human needs (Holmes, 2018, Swan, 2025). Regarding digital content, such as digital learning material, Holmes states that “inclusive design is simply good design for the digital age” (2018, p. 140). Digital spaces offer significantly more customization and personalization than physical spaces.

Humans are disabled by the mismatch of how something is and the way they interact with that thing. According to the IDRC, disability is “a mismatch between the needs of the individual and the design of the product, system or service. With this framing, disability can be experienced by anyone excluded by the design” (IDRC, 2018). In post-secondary education, students are disabled by digital learning material that does not work with their required technology. According to the IDRC, the inaccessibility of digital learning material, or any mismatch, can be solved through inclusive design (2016).

Diversity and Uniqueness

Recognizing human diversity and uniqueness works to undo some of the harm caused by the common presumption that professional expertise outweighs life experience (Holmes, 2018). As Chinn & Pelletier note, the tension between expert and experience may result in researchers ignoring the inputs of participants (2020). Those presumptions contribute to the mismatches that necessitates inclusive design. Inclusive design considers the full range of human diversity where ‘alternative’ modes of interaction are given equal weight in the design process (IDRC, 2016). By centering unique interaction, inclusive design prioritizes one-size-fits-one design. As opposed to a one-size-fits-all approach to design, inclusive design incorporates a more acute and nuanced awareness of the exclusion caused when one lands outside the parameters of the ‘one-size’ or average (Keates & Clarkson, 2002). However, unlike universal design disciplines, inclusive design emphasizes adaptive, flexible designs that allow for customization to meet the needs of a greater number of users, particularly those outside the ‘normal’ range of interaction (IDRC, 2016). Digital spaces are particularly flexible and adaptable to individual needs and preferences. The flexibility of digital learning material to user needs varies depending on format. For example, HTML and EPUB files are accessible to assistive technology and offer customizations of font size and style, background colours, and contrast. More rigid formats like digital rights management (DRM) locked publisher platforms or PDFs offer no customization and inconsistent compatibility with assistive technology.

Inclusive design is, at its core, a framework for reducing exclusion. The use of the term ‘design’ in this work refers to any process of creating, curating, and choosing. Design does not necessarily refer an artistic process, but the production of an experience for someone else. For example, an instructor might be said to ‘design’ their course. However, when someone cannot use a product, engage with a service, or move through a place because of its design, that thing creates exclusion (Keates & Clarkson, 2002). In much the same way that society disables people (see section 2.2.1), exclusion disables people. When an inaccessible document means a disabled student cannot engage with, for example, their readings, that document creates exclusion by disabling that student. Exclusion does not occur naturally. According to Cassim et al. (2007) neglect, ignorance, and insufficient information cause exclusive designs.

Exclusive designs may only consider one assumed mode of interaction and participation, often using the designers’ own abilities as a baseline. This behaviour may be rooted in an ability bias (the assumption that what I can do the way I do, you can do the way I do) or unexamined assumptions about a group of people (Holmes, 2018). Categorizing people into an assumed monolithic group, especially one based on presumed ability, creates exclusive, ineffective, and possibly offensive solutions. Even when informed by rigid categorizations based on, for example, medical diagnoses (the medical model of disability), exclusive design leaves no tolerance for individual choices, preferences, circumstance, or the unexpected (Inclusive Design Research Centre [IDRC], 2016).

In the hypothetical realm, many of these prejudicial categorizations are based on personas. A researcher or designer might, for example, use a persona of their customer to guide design decisions. Personas, even those created with good intentions, oversimplify the uniqueness of people to groupings that do not reflect human diversity and create barriers to including real users in the design process (Holmes, 2018). Personas are often built on a presumed, albeit fantastical, average.

Academia, medicine, and eugenics are all deeply invested in the idea of average. Todd Rose’s The End of Average (2017) outlines numerous historical attempts to capture an average. One of the most compelling, as it relates to inclusive design, is the efforts of the United States Air Force to create a one-size-fits-all airplane cockpit. Early airplane cockpits were based on the average measurement of hundreds of bodily dimensions from thousands of pilots. When this effort did not improve performance or safety, Gilbert Daniels measured four thousand pilots and found that zero matched even ten of the hundreds of average dimensions. The solution was to replace a one-size-fits-all solution with fully adjustable seats, levers, pedals, and controls. The idea of personalization influenced the design of many other products; the customization of the airplane cockpit directly led to the ability to adjust a car seat, mirrors, and seat belt into positions that best suit each driver and passenger (Holmes, 2018). The best affordance for individuality and diversity is allowing user customization.

Imagine being unable to adjust things to fit; how difficult tasks would be if you had to use and interact with everything as it came. If it were a desk chair, you may be annoyed if it was too high or too low, but you would manage. But consider the readings for a college course. When we assume everyone reads the same way we do and if, as in my case, I assume everyone else can read from a physical book, it becomes impossible for learners to adjust things to fit them. If, for example, only scans of the book are provided, screen reader users, text to speech users, readers that need larger font, and others will be excluded or, at the very least, have an extremely frustrating experience. If there is an eBook or accessible document format of that reading, then users of assistive technology and those that like to read, for example, white font on black, need to increase the font size, or prefer to have content read aloud can all participate. If something is designed based on one set of abilities or preferences or a presumed average, many are excluded; they become, as Kel Smith (2013) terms them, “digital outcasts” (p. 1).

There is no average user or average student. Without an average, there is no edge case or extreme user; there is a continuum of diverse humans, but there is no extreme to accommodate (Holmes, 2018; Rose, 2017). As most individuals deviate from the average in some need, preference, or mode of interaction, there is rarely a mass solution that works for everyone (IDRC, 2018). The lack of an average presents a challenge: how can something be created or designed for everyone? The first step is to avoid assumptions of average and to resist the desire to create something on the behalf of others without meaningful contribution of the impacted user groups, including marginalized and traditionally excluded communities (Holmes, 2018). The best method to counter designs that exclude is to “include and be guided by the individuals that have difficulty or are excluded from the existing designs” (IDRC, 2020).

Inclusive Processes

Inclusive design prioritizes the use of inclusive processes and tools to ensure the equitable participation of the greatest diversity in the design process to ensures design outcomes are as useable as possible (IDRC, 2020). This includes accessible technology, inclusive meetings and communication, and environments that are welcoming and useful to all. The inclusion of unique perspectives, use of shared language, and a defined framework assists in the design and production of items, experiences, and content that include people without delay or remediation (Swan, 2025). Keates & Clarkson refer to the ‘knowledge loop’ of information collection from the participation of diverse users which is necessary to produce validated inclusive designs (2013). The inclusion of a spectrum of participants in design processes not only creates better outcomes but undoes some preconceived notions about expertise and whose information is valuable (Keates & Clarkson, 2013). Where post-secondary has not heeded the voices of those who know best (i.e., disabled students with lived experience), inclusive design sees disabled students as “knowledge holders, whose experiences give them a perspective that might be hidden” (Marom & Hardwick, 2025, p. 513). This practice also works to undo the exclusion created when expertise is presumed to be more valuable than lived experience.

Co-design is a powerful method to ensure inclusion and the participation of diverse users in the design process. Co-design includes traditionally excluded and marginalized voices to counter the historical dominance of expertise silencing lived experience. Simply, co-design is “design with, rather than designing for” (IDRC, 2023a). As Ashley Shew (2023) writes, “disabled people are the experts about disabled people” (p. 19). This echoes the social model of disability in which disabled people are no longer “passive recipients of care . . . they are experts who are leading the demand for change” (Wilson et al., 2015, p. 22). Historically disabled people have been excluded from discussions about their needs, particularly with regards to technology as an integrated tool in daily life (Shew, 2023). Co-design brings those voices into the process. Traditional research often dismisses the needs of outliers or ‘edge cases’ that don’t fit in the broad and homogenous ‘typical’ user. To avoid this, inclusive co-design seeks the input of “those with needs least served by existing designs” (IDRC, 2023a). This act of deliberate inclusion ensures the voices of those most directly impacted, and coincidentally most often excluded from traditional solutions, are included and valued. Co-design’s emphasis on collaboration ensures solutions are not prescribed from outside a community; instead, solutions involve active, consistent engagement to ensure designs meet the unique needs of the participating community. Tom Shakespeare advocates that disabled people be given “control over the [research] process, over their words and over their participation” (1996, p. 116). While co-designing with disabled people is relatively new (Hendriks et al., 2015), a notable trend in the existing research emphasizes the need for processes that are flexible and accessible (Wilson et al., 2015; Nakadara-Kordic et al., 2017; Carroll et al., 2018; Labattaglia et al., 2023).

Inclusive research should involve not only collaborative work, but also the sharing and discussion of results (Hayes, 2011; May, 2024). By including those most impacted, inclusive co-design is more likely to create solutions that are contextually appropriate and familiar to the impacted communities. This helps ensure solutions are sustainable and more likely to be adopted widely (IDRC, 2023a). The student co-designers in this work were directly involved in not only the initial interview portion, but also the creation of the resource to be shared with phase 2 participants and the results section of this report.

Broader Beneficial Impact

Including a diverse range of users in the design process leads inclusive design to create solutions that “solves for one person and then extends to many” (Holmes, 2018, p. 104). Inclusive design rejects the idea of one-size-fits-all, instead emphasizes designing for one-size-fits-one, and takes that solution and considers how it could help others. As the IDRC claims, “if your design meets a diversity of needs, mainstream users’ needs will more likely also be met” (2023a). The extension of solutions beyond the intended audience represents the broader beneficial impact of inclusive design.

To ensure inclusively designed solutions proliferate and benefit as many people as possible, inclusive design must be integrated into mainstream design and production. This also makes inclusive design solutions more affordable through higher adoption and production rates (IDRC, 2016). Without integration, many users may remain unaware of potential solutions and the broader beneficial impact of an inclusive design solution may only reach a small group or those with the means and motivation to seek out new ideas (IDRC, 2016). Additionally, integrating inclusive design into mainstream design will help maintain interoperability and currency; a niche design, segregated outside the mainstream sphere, will be forgotten and left to decay (IDRC, 2020). As an example (while often cited as an example of universal design), the OXO brand Good Grips kitchen tools were initially designed for an individual with arthritis (Liston, 2017). However, by designing for people who had difficulty manipulating kitchen tools, a solution with broader beneficial impact was created.

According to the IDRC, the wide adoption of inclusive designs is required to trigger the ‘virtuous cycle of inclusion.’ Reaction to change can be negative, leading to a vicious cycle. Or, reaction can be positive, leading to a virtuous cycle. When a design’s broader beneficial impact is integrated into the mainstream, more users benefit and are in turn able to participate, leading to more inclusive experiences and design in the future (IDRC, 2016). As inclusive design often begins at the margins, the virtuous cycle pulls the ‘outlier’ into the mainstream which increases access, decreases costs, and leads to continued innovation. Inclusive designs proliferate as more people are empowered and able to participate in the economy, research, and education. When post-secondary education becomes more welcoming to diverse ranges of being, there is more feedback and growth to make environments that are more welcoming to all. By starting with something specific, such as the accessibility of digital learning material (which has a significant broader beneficial impact), post-secondary institutions can rapidly realize the benefit of the virtuous cycle of inclusion. Engaging with those most in need of accessible learning material is essential to begin this work. As opposed to seeking universal solutions, an inclusive design approach to digital learning material works to understand what formats work best for disabled students and if those preferred formats will work for more.

Universal Design

Universal design and Universal Design for Learning (UDL) are closely related to inclusive design. However, universal design promotes the idea that a perfect solution can be created to fit all users whereas inclusive design emphasizes design that fits one individual and can be expanded to benefit many (Holmes, 2018). Inclusive design takes this sentiment to a stage where designs not only consider a diversity of ways to participate, but everyone has a sense of belonging. Where universal design aims to create experiences and solutions that can be used to the greatest extent possible by the greatest number of users, inclusive design emphasizes fulfilling as many individual user needs as possible (Kendrick, 2022). Universal design originates in architectural and industrial design where objects are static and, barring significant work, final. Inclusive design, while not solely limited to the digital realm, does not need to pursue one-size-fits-all solutions in this case, as the flexibility of digital spaces allows for a properly designed artefact to be personalized, customized, and individualized to a one-size-fits-one configuration (IDRC, 2018; IDRC, 2020; Kendrick, 2022). Inclusive design considers iteration and variation as key to the process and welcomes change where something can be tweaked or customized to best suit each user (Kendrick, 2022). Universal design excels at describing the qualities of a final product, where inclusive design considers the process of arriving at a solution or product (Holmes, 2018). While universal design aims to create experiences that work for everyone, it does not require the input of those most impacted in the design process; inclusive design emphasizes the inclusion of traditionally excluded groups to ensure solutions understand and enable people regardless of their access means (Holmes, 2018; IDRC, 2018; Kendrick, 2022). For additional comparison of universal design/universal design for learning and inclusive design, consider Jarman et al. (2023), Quirke & Galvin (2025), and Timuş et al. (2024). Dolmage (2017) argues that universal design’s intent to assume a comprehensive mode that includes all “becomes a way to erase disability altogether” when disability isn’t “a valued and agentive identity in the classroom” (p. 146). While universal design has impacted policy and practice, the statistics on disability and accommodations suggest it is not working for education. Inclusive design can augment, assist, and improve existing practices.

Accessibility

Accessibility is closely related to inclusive design. Accessibility is a state in which people with disabilities can use something: as examples, a building may be accessible if it has ramps and braille signage, a website may be accessible if designed to WCAG standards, and a captioned movie is accessible. However, accessibility is a bare minimum that does not consider user preferences, dignity, or if an accessible experience is enjoyable and useful (Holmes, 2018; Kendrick, 2022; Swan, 2025). Accessibility is a core intention of inclusive design, but accessibility only provides access. Designers and producers must know the user, the context, and the goal of a solution and so inclusive design demands the inclusion of marginalized and excluded users in the design process (IDRC, 2018). While ‘accessible’ may be defined based on criteria or legislation (as discussed in section 2.3), inclusive design seeks to augment those standards to move beyond compliance and access to welcoming, inclusive, and usable experiences (Swan, 2025). Accessibility is a state in which disabled people can access something; inclusive design is a process to create things that are accessible, useful, and easy to use. Universal design may enhance accessibility but inclusive design pushes accessibility to be user-centric, useful, and inclusive. Universal design for learning is an incredibly popular initiative and is not without its merits. However, instead of assuming solutions that should work for the greatest number, this project works to consult those most impacted by inaccessible digital learning material and engage that expertise to create inclusive learning experiences.

3.1.2 Action Research

The essential goal of this research is to improve the experience of disabled students when interacting with digital learning material. Research sometimes falls into a trap where “you end up doing the document rather than doing the doing” (Ahmed, 2007, p. 599). To ensure this research is grounded in tangible action, action research is employed as a complementary methodology. Action research may be described as “learning through action” (Hayes, 2011, p.9). Action research is generally small scale, localized, and focused on discovering or developing changes to practice (Donato, 2003). A “problem focused, context-specific and future oriented” methodology, action research is often longitudinal, explanatory, focused on change, and concerned with improvement in practice (Draper, 2004, p. 35). Action research includes the practitioners of what is being studied—in this case, the use of digital learning material by staff and instructors at Langara college—acting and participating in the research simultaneously. Action research seeks to study existing practice, create knowledge, and implement change while improving processes and outcomes (Stringer, 1999). Involving key stakeholders in the research is essential to ensure meaningful improvements, but action research also seeks to “improve the rationality and justice of [participants’] practices” (Carr & Kemmis, 1986, p. 162), “bring about social change” (Bogdan & Biklen, 1992, p. 223) to “expose unjust practices” (Smith, 2017). As Emma May (2024) writes, action research “is not always political in nature, participatory research is frequently implemented by researchers who are invested in social transformation” (p. 442). Ethical concerns are important in the context of access, especially with consideration of disability rights as human rights. Action research, with its focus on improving practice as research is undertaken, is “consciousness in the midst of action” (Torbert, 1991, p. 221). This project, particularly phase 2, seeks the active participation of instructors and staff. The influence of action research methods will largely depend on the active participation of Langara instructors and staff.

Action research was first defined as a methodology by Kurt Lewin in the late-1940s to harness the willingness of social scientists to study and address post-war social change. Lewin argued that researchers needed to include practitioners from the real world in research to ensure research was feasible, reflective of society, and resulted in plausible suggested action (Masters, 1995). Lewin’s model was “composed of a circle of planning, executing, and reconnaissance or fact-finding for the purpose of evaluating the results of the second step, and preparing the rational basis for planning the third step, and for perhaps modifying again the overall plan” (1948, p. 206). This iterative model is reminiscent of inclusive design’s virtuous tornado. Ultimately, Lewin asserts that action research is necessary as “research that produces nothing but books will not suffice” (p. 203).

In 1975, British educator Lawrence Stenhouse applied action research to curriculum development and educational research. According to Stenhouse (1975) “it is not enough that teachers’ work should be studied; they need to study it themselves” (p. 142). Mills (2003) outlined a framework for employing action research to develop reflective practice, effect positive changes in the school environment and educational practice, and improve student outcomes. This framework mimicked the key circular nature of Lewin’s action research while locating praxis within education and curriculum development. Donato (2003) emphasized the use of action research at individual schools where changes can be based on hyper-specific information collected in a localized context. Action research continues to be employed in teaching and public health research (Strijbos & Vaesen, 2025; Kanmodi et al., 2026).

Action research was grounded in the growing field of critical theory by Carr & Kemmis (1986) while Shirley Grundy’s Curriculum: Product or Praxis? (1987) forwarded emancipatory action research which emphasizes “emancipatory praxis in the participating practitioners; that is, it promotes a critical consciousness which exhibits itself in political as well as practical action to promote change” (p. 154). The confluence of research and political action is essential to the success of disabilities studies research to create tangible change. Building on Lewin’s original circles, Kemmis and McTaggart (1988) proposed a four-stage process for action research starting with a plan for improvement, implementing the plan, documenting the effects, and reflecting on the effects for further planning. This iterative cycle ensures research is not simply catalogued and forgotten, but benefits both the practitioners (in this case college instructors and staff) and the students served by the practitioners. Stringer (1999) proposed three phases of action research: look, in which the problem and context are defined through information gathering; think, in which the current state is analysed with respect to areas of success and deficiency; and act, which involves the implementation of solutions. These models are not followed exactly but inform the second phase of this research project.

Participatory action research (PAR) is an approach to action research that seeks to include not only the practitioners, but the affected communities. Robert N. Rapoport (1970) described the goal of action research as “to contribute both to the practical concerns of people in an immediate problematic situation and to the goals of social science by joint collaboration” between researchers, practitioners, and community (p. 499). PAR has also been termed ‘community-based action research’ by Ernest T. Stringer (1999). This model centres social values, democratic participation, equity, liberating conditions, and working to enable people’s full potential. PAR often involves ‘participants’ or ‘collaborators’ rather than subjects or respondents; collaborators are stakeholders invested in problem definition, solutions, and evaluation (Draper, 2004; May, 2024). PAR allows “common people everywhere to create knowledge from their own lived experience” (Beck, 1995, p.1). This sentiment closely aligns with the use of inclusive process and tools central to inclusive design which is guided “by the individuals that have difficulty or are excluded from the existing designs” (IDRC, 2020). PAR, in addition to producing a specific action or change, aims to be driven by participants, collaborative at all stages, and offers a democratic model of who produces, owns, and uses knowledge (Morales, 2016). PAR, like action research, is localized in both problem and solution, asserting that “the solution to the problem is within the same setting [as the problem] without intention of generalizing its results” (p. 158). Attempting to address the inaccessibility of digital learning material at Langara College may result in generalizable findings due to the ubiquity of common digital learning material formats. However, if the results only create a better experience for Langara’s disabled students, the project will still be a success. Due to the inclusion of “those for whom the change is very relevant, [participatory action research] is more likely to succeed” (Draper, 2004, p. 36). However, a high level of commitment and involvement from the organization, including the participants, is required to not only study a problem but to commit to its resolution (Morales, 2016). This presents unique challenges, particularly in the current climate of post-secondary contraction and job insecurity.

Action research is employed as a complementary methodology to inclusive design and co-design, particularly for its emphasis on localized and educational contexts. PAR has the potential to unsettle existing power structures, dominant ideologies, and harmful assumptions present in traditional research practices (May, 2024). Research which only examines what is can easily secure certainty in the status quo; as Tanya Titchkosky (2011) posits: “justifying what is can hold at bay considerations of what is not” (p. 77). Explicitly studying inaccessibility may only reaffirm that some are excluded; addressing how to increase access through tangible action will improve people’s lives. While methodology is important, results are paramount to this work. As Diane Beck (1995) points out: “too much action without reflection is mere activism; too much reflection without action is mere introspection and armchair discussion” (p. 12).