Designed for Disability, Loved by Everyone

I’m a *bit* of a bibliophile.

Unsurprising, given my career, but still — I love books. Books are my preferred room décor, my dearest friends, and my only addiction. Despite running a business, shlepping teenagers to friends and activities and obligations, running a home, and mothering a very needy cat, I read about two books each week.

I "find time to read" with the glorious aid of audiobooks. Thanks to them, I can read everywhere — while driving, working out, cleaning, even showering (pro tip: putting your phone in an empty coffee cup amplifies the sound; just keep it away from the spray of water and lather while you listen). And paper snobs, be gone. Plenty of research shows no real difference in brain processes or comprehension between listening to audiobooks and reading physical books.

Decades ago, audiobooks were intended mainly for the visually impaired and only available on multiple cassette tapes borrowed from the library. I would clip my trusty Walkman to my shorts and go for a walk the length of side A, then flip the tape over and head back to side B. Today, I've got Libby, Hoopla, and Audible loaded up on my phone and with me wherever I go. Technology is a beautiful thing.

As with many things, audiobooks have come a long way since their designed-for-disability beginning. Their readership has doubled in the past 15 years, due largely to former print-lovers who have seen the convenient light.

It's almost like inclusion benefits everyone.

Of course, Oxford & Em already knew that. We write regularly for Remfrey Educational Consulting, a firm focused on improving inclusive education in international schools; the Special Needs Alliance, a group of big-hearted attorneys helping families and individuals navigate the legalities of disability; and Custom Craft Design Build, whose work with universal design is as creative as it is practical. Through the years, we've learned so much about what's available to differently-abled people, and we're struck by how many of these features make life easier for everyone.

The classic example of how accessible design benefits everyone is curb cuts — you know, the ramps in curbs designed for wheelchairs. They're also a godsend to anyone who's had to push a stroller through the city or take a toddler out on a tricycle.The same principle extends online. Several digital features designed for those with disabilities have become not only mainstream, but table stakes. Here are just a few we love.

Closed Captions and Transcripts

It's not your imagination — TV is harder to hear these days (for everyone, not just those of us who remember 8-tracks and pegged jeans). Nowadays, sound and direction in film and TV is bent toward naturalism over diction, and our ears notice. Add a noisy household, NSFW content, and multiple accents, and you've got a real recipe for chaos. A full 50% of Americans use subtitles most of the time, and studios are getting savvy — they've updated the practice to prevent spoilers and are making them clearer to read while keeping more of your screen clear.

Do this: Add accurate captions to any video content on your website and social channels. "Accurate" is the key word here — auto-generated captions have improved but still make enough errors to confuse or mislead. Review them before publishing.

Chunked Text

Nobody reads online the way they read a novel. We scan, we bounce around, we lose our place, we get interrupted by a notification and start over. Several members of our team are former teachers, and we know from the classroom that breaking content into smaller sections isn't just a kindness to readers with cognitive or learning differences — it's an acknowledgment of how people absorb content. A wall of text signals effort before the reader has decided you're worth it. Shorter chunks say: this will be manageable. That's an invitation, and invitations get accepted.

Do this: Audit your longest web pages. If you see paragraphs running more than four or five lines, break them up. Add a subheading every few paragraphs so readers can find their place if they drift.

Skimmable Headlines

Most readers skim before they commit. They want to know, in about three seconds, whether the content ahead is worth their time. A headline that makes them work to understand it has already asked too much. Far too many writers trade clarity for cleverness, and their message pays the price. Well-written headlines orient readers, help people with reading or cognitive challenges navigate without friction, and — for the rest of us guilty of squinting at our phones late at night without our glasses, trying not to disturb the cat — remove one small but meaningful barrier.

Do this: Read your headlines without the content beneath them. Do they tell you what the section is actually about? All web searches are a question. Do your headlines make it clear this page has the answer?

Descriptive Alt Text

Folks with visual impairments rely on alt text to understand images — especially important as everything online becomes increasingly visual. These descriptions have also become critical for SEO and AI crawlers, which read your images the same way a screen reader does: through the words you assign them. Check your website for these descriptions and write them with intention, using the specific keywords you've mapped out for visibility. A field most people leave blank turns out to be valuable real estate.

Do this: Do a quick pass through your website's images and check the alt text field for each one. If it's blank, fill it in. If it says something like "image001.jpg," that's a problem. Write a clear, specific description and work in a relevant keyword where it fits naturally.

Dark Mode and Reduced Motion Settings

I get ocular migraines, so I feel this one keenly. But let's back up for a moment.

Dark mode swaps a screen's default white background for a darker one, reducing the overall light emitted — a relief for anyone sensitive to brightness, and increasingly a preference for people who just spend a lot of time in front of screens. Reduced motion settings dial back animations, auto-playing videos, and transitions that can trigger dizziness or disorientation in people with vestibular disorders. Both are now standard options on most devices and browsers, which means your users may already have them enabled — and your site should be ready for that.

Beyond accessibility, there's a practical case for both. Dark mode reduces eye strain during extended reading sessions and is easier on battery life for mobile users. Reduced motion makes for a cleaner, faster-feeling experience for anyone who finds flashy transitions more distracting than engaging. Nobody wants to feel the heat of a thousand blazing suns streaming into their eyeballs while they’re reading an article about insomnia.

Do this: Talk to your web developer about whether your site is tested in dark mode and with reduced motion preferences enabled. If you're using animations or auto-play video, ask whether your site can respect users' system-level settings automatically.

The audiobook, it turns out, is a pretty good metaphor for all of this.

It was designed for people who couldn't access print. Then technology caught up, habits shifted, and now it's how millions of people — busy, distracted, commuting, showering — consume content they genuinely love. Nobody had to be convinced that inclusion was a worthy goal. They just discovered that what worked for one group worked beautifully for them too.

Your website has the same opportunity.

Take a few minutes to look at it through a different set of eyes. Do your headlines actually describe what follows, or are they working too hard to be clever? Do your images have alt text? Is your content broken into pieces a tired person could navigate at 11pm? Do your captions and transcripts exist — and are they accurate?

These aren't edge-case improvements for a small slice of your audience. They're the features that make your content work for everyone: people with disabilities, people on phones, people who skim, people who are exhausted, people who are new to your brand and haven't decided yet whether to trust you.

Which, at one point or another, is all of us.