This week, I read Design Meets Disability by Graham Pullin, and it really struck a chord with me. It made me think about a conversation I have with my parents constantly.
For years, my parents have tried to talk me into getting LASIK eye surgery. They see it as fixing a problem. But I have always refused. I don’t see my poor eyesight as a disability that needs to be erased. I see my glasses as a feature. They are part of who I am. They are part of my identity.
Pullin talks about this in the book. He uses eyewear as the perfect example of a medical device becoming a fashion statement. Nobody looks at glasses and thinks “medical equipment” anymore. We just think “style.” This is exactly how I feel. If I fixed my eyes, I would lose a part of my personality.
However, I did not agree with everything in the text. There was a point where the “Swiss Army Knife” approach—making one tool do many things—was critiqued as ugly or cluttered. I disagree. I think there is beauty in something that is highly functional and straightforward. Design does not always have to be minimal to be good. If a device solves a problem efficiently, that is good design.
The biggest takeaway for me is that we need to stop hiding. Too often, medical design tries to mimic skin tone or conceal the device. This is a mistake. When you try to hide a hearing aid or a wheelchair, you are telling the user that their condition is something to be ashamed of. It also limits creativity.
If we stop trying to hide, we can start designing.
Imagine if Nike designed a wheelchair. It wouldn’t look like a hospital chair. It would look fast, sporty, and bold. Imagine if Apple designed a hearing aid. It wouldn’t be “flesh-colored” plastic. It would be sleek, white, or metallic, and people might actually want to wear it.
We need to move toward a world where assistive technology does not apologize for existing. It should serve its function while prioritizing great design. Just like my glasses.