The word is everywhere. In invitations to tender, in redesigns, in exchanges that are readily described as «strategic». Digital accessibility has become an expression that is brandished with confidence... without really defining it. Everyone projects onto it what they want: a technical constraint, a legal obligation or just another subject. And then there's the simple question: what are we really talking about?
Behind the somewhat abstract vocabulary, the idea is nonetheless concrete. Digital accessibility is the ability of a website, application or online service to be used by everyone, including people with disabilities. A blind person consulting a site, a deaf person watching a video, a person with reduced mobility navigating without a mouse: accessibility is what makes it all possible or impossible.
Because in reality, we're talking about barriers. Not an image, not a metaphor: real obstacles, as real as an impassable step in the street. If your site only works for people without disabilities, you're creating exclusion. Quiet as it may be, it's real.
Accessibility and universality: two concepts that are too often confused
Accessibility and universality: these two terms are often confused, but they are not talking about the same thing.
Universality, This is the founding dream of the Web: a space open to all, accessible from anywhere, with any device. It's a technical promise of openness.
Accessibility goes further. It ensures that people with disabilities can perceive, understand and use a service without being stopped by a design choice. It's a commitment to people.
Here's an example to illustrate the nuance. A website can be technically available from a smartphone: that's universality. But if its buttons are too small to be activated by someone whose hands are trembling, then accessibility is what is lacking. One opens the door, the other makes sure you can cross the threshold.
A human right, not a technical option
We'd like to think that accessibility is a technical matter: a few attributes to be corrected, a colour to be adjusted, a structure to be reviewed. But the heart of the matter lies elsewhere.
Accessibility is first and foremost a matter of human rights. The UN Convention clearly states that disability does not arise from the person, but from the obstacles placed in the way by the environment. In the street, it's a step, on a site, it's a nameless button.
To be clearer, a person is not «disabled by their deafness». They are disabled when a video has no subtitles. The difference changes everything: it's not up to the person to adapt, but for the digital environment to be barrier-free.
Making a service accessible is not about embellishing a product. It's about making a space accessible. It's a profoundly right thing to do, even if it seems less spectacular than a graphic redesign.
What accessibility is... and what it isn't
We often hear the phrase: «We are all disabled one day». The intention is generous: to create empathy, to show that accessibility benefits everyone. But by trying too hard to include everyone, we end up erasing the reality of those for whom disability is a daily reality.
Being tired, having a grip on your hand or seeing badly on a migraine night has nothing to do with a lasting condition that shapes a whole life. Yes, a site with good contrasts also helps people who read in the sun. Yes, subtitled videos are useful on a noisy train. But let's make no mistake: accessibility is first and foremost designed for those whose ability to use digital technology depends entirely on it. It's not a secondary benefit, it's a primary need.
A variety of situations, a variety of ways of sailing
Disability never presents itself in the same way. It can affect sight, hearing, motor skills, cognitive functions - sometimes several at once. And each situation transforms the way we interact with digital technology.
When sight is not enough
A blind person uses a screen reader that speaks the contents of the page. If an image has no alternative text, the software simply says «image». The information disappears into this void.
A visually impaired person may need to zoom in on the text at 200% or drastically increase the contrast. If the site's layout explodes at the slightest zoom, it becomes unusable, even if it is technically «responsive».
When sound doesn't come through
For a deaf or hard-of-hearing person, a video without subtitles or a transcript is a black box. The audio content remains closed to them, however rich it may be.
When gestures are limited
Some people cannot use a mouse. They navigate using the keyboard, a trackball, an eye-tracking system or voice commands. A button that reacts only to the click of a mouse becomes an insurmountable wall.
When understanding requires more effort
Dyslexia, autism, attention disorders: these conditions make reading difficult. Overly dense text, convoluted vocabulary and an interface overloaded with animations become real cognitive obstacles.
A mosaic of assistance technologies
Faced with this diversity, the tools are multiplying. Screen readers such as JAWS or NVDA, Braille displays that show text in relief, full keyboard navigation, zoom software, contactors adapted for people with quadriplegia, voice control and eye-tracking.
This variety explains why accessibility can never be reduced to a single solution. It requires a design that anticipates these multiple ways of interacting.
Braille area
When digital technology creates its own borders
Inaccessibility is almost never intentional. It arises from blind spots, from design reflexes, from choices that seem insignificant but which, for some, become barriers.
The form trapped in the mouse. A developer creates a form without thinking that some people only use the keyboard. Result: impossible to validate, impossible to send. The person is blocked.
The mute icon. An elegant button, represented by a simple icon, with no explanatory text. The screen reader can't announce anything. The user doesn't know what the button is for, or even that it's a button.
The ghost text. A designer is looking for a clean look: light grey text on a white background. Aesthetically it's light, but for the visually impaired it's illegible. The lack of contrast washes out the content.
The merry-go-round. An automatic slideshow scrolls too fast. A person with cognitive difficulties has no time to read. A keyboard user can't figure out how to stop it. The content escapes them.
These obstacles remain invisible to the majority of users, who never encounter them. This is precisely what makes them insidious: they fly under the radar until the day when someone tries to use the service and discovers that it is closed to them.
Things to remember
So what if you had to keep just a few ideas of what digital accessibility is? Digital accessibility primarily concerns people with disabilities, even if it benefits everyone. Disability stems from the obstacles we create, not from people. There are many different situations, many different needs, and no single solution. Inaccessibility is often the result of blind spots in our design habits. The aim is not to add a special layer but to remove the barriers that exclude.
Basically, making a service accessible means recognising that digital access is a right, not a privilege. It's about making sure that no-one is left out because of choices that could have been avoided. Every barrier removed changes someone's experience, sometimes for a moment, sometimes for a lifetime. And that's where the promise of a truly inclusive digital world lies: in the patient, humble, deeply human act of proving that everyone has a place here.