The Aroma of Inclusive Design

Jimena Guijarro
propelland
Published in
5 min readMar 31, 2020

The smell of coffee brewing in the mornings–sweet, nutty, and more effective than my alarm clock to begin the day–has been dearly missed these past ten days. According to NYT, lack of smell (anosmia) and taste (dysgeusia) are possible symptoms of COVID-19. Living in an odorless, tasteless world begged the question: What is the role played by our senses in everyday routines, relationships, and behaviors?

Illustration by Jimena Guijarro

When we use human-centric methodologies, these routines, relationships, and behaviors are vital to the way we design everyday objects, services, and experiences. While our senses play a large role in these aspects, we rarely apply the sensory lens when designing innovatively and inclusively. As I went through quarantine life without smell and taste, I developed a newfound appreciation for the rancid and acrid aromas, as well other more pleasing aromas that help me make decisions throughout the day:

“Is the milk fresh?”

“Is the food in the oven done?”

“Is it time to empty the compost bin?”

“Did I already apply deodorant?”

“Is the gas leaking?”

Not knowing made me feel as if I were blind. More importantly, feeling vulnerable brought me to a place of empathy.

Did you know?

“1 in 8 Americans over the age of 40 have a measurable smell dysfunction and 3% of Americans have permanent anosmia.” (NIH)

Illustration by Jimena Guijarro

Some people are born with it, while others develop the condition due to nasal congestion or brain injuries. In some cases, anosmia is accompanied by dysgeusia, a condition due to which people cannot taste flavors. As a consequence, individuals face anxiety when making decisions we take for granted, such as: “Should I eat this?”

Accessibility is key to design

So, how do I take my newfound empathy to work? Myself, my team, and other teams across the world are often preoccupied and unaware of the disabilities that affect millions of people around the world. When we design employee journeys, retail spaces, interfaces for autonomous vehicles, or a website’s user interface, we should ask ourselves two questions: “Who is excluded from this experience?” and “How could we change that?”

A few months ago, I stumbled upon a great example of a team that asked the same questions, arriving at a brilliant, inclusive service design. Every floor of the Andy Warhol Museum in Pittsburgh features 3D reproductions of iconic artworks done with white plastic material, allowing the visually impaired to see through touch. Aside from current COVID considerations around touch, the museum’s approach is to be deliberate in starting conversations with every visitor that walks into the exhibition. This tactile approach engages the visually impaired in an unexpected way so that they are not left out. The Andy Warhol Museum has a comprehensive accessibility program thanks to its team.

Photo by Jimena Guijarro. Featured: Brillo Soap Pads Box, 1964 (left) and Campbell Soup I: Cream of Mushrooms, 1968 (right) by Andy Warhol

Microsoft is another organization with an extensive practice of inclusive design. Besides developing open resource tools for those looking to learn more about inclusive design methodologies, the technology giant has adopted accessibility as a key design principle for its products, services, and employee journeys. This is notable because inclusivity is not the norm for everyday activities or hiring. For example, Microsoft has instituted the Autism Hiring Program to ensure more inclusive hiring processes. But inclusivity is also personal. I’ve seen the impact of design on those around me.

Inclusive Toolkit: Microsoft Design. The Persona Spectrum, page 42.

When I was young, I attended a school located in a mountainous region. To get to school, we had to walk up many steps. By the time I graduated, the school had as many ramps as steps. Many of those ramps were put in place for a dear friend who passed away a few years ago from muscular dystrophy. As a class and community, we developed new behaviors and routines for him and for other classmates that had varying learning needs. Many years later, I wonder why it still not standard practice for schools, cities, and offices to design options around diverse needs. As designers, we have an important role and responsibility: to create a world with alternatives. Creating diverse journeys is what inclusivity is all about.

How designers can be more inclusive

As a design strategist, much of my work involves innovating on business models for large corporations. I would like to share two challenges related to accessibility and inclusion, and how we can address them — would be curious to hear how you might approach these challenges.

Illustration by Jimena Guijarro
  1. The challenge: How can we test for exclusion?

The solution: Consider who is excluded from the experience and how could that change. Bear in mind that inclusion is not about creating universal solutions. Identifying the value of your design to specific users can help evaluate whether exclusion is a challenge and help stir the pivot toward inclusion in the right direction.

2. The challenge: How do we build empathy with different audiences?

The solution: Workshops are a great opportunity to model change and build empathy. Some tools include role-play: ask people to assume a character and provide feedback from the character’s perspective, or constrained ideation: set must-have criteria for a solution. These techniques offer fertile soil to apply the senses as constraints or character traits.

3. The challenge: How do we actively listen to understand people and identify their real problems?

The solution: Human problem statements are simple and straightforward. They must be solution-agnostic. Most importantly, a human problem statement considers the functional, emotional, and social aspects of a human problem. An example below.

GoodGym is a UK-based nonprofit organization that connects young runners with the elderly. The group has been running strong (pun intended) since 2008. The original challenge was to create an affordable alternative to expensive gym memberships (functional). Somewhere along the way, the team uncovered two seemingly unrelated insights: 1) young people lose motivation due to lack of accountability (emotional + social) and 2) the elderly are isolated and crave human interaction (emotional + social). The result was a volunteer-based program that matched each other’s needs to provide a comprehensive solution: young people keep the elderly company and the elderly become accountability agents for young runners.

Raising awareness is another way to help. Share this with others and drop us a line in the comments with more examples of inclusive design in the wild.

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Jimena Guijarro
propelland

Design Strategist | Curiosity Catalyzer | Art World Veteran. See my work at jimenaguijarro.com