In lab management, "accessibility" is often treated as a technical problem with a structural fix, like checking building codes or installing a height-adjustable bench during a renovation. These changes are typically viewed as "accommodations"—adjustments made for specific individuals to function in a space not originally designed for them.
However, this reactive model falls short of supporting a research team’s full potential. When labs are designed for a "standard" body and mind, unintended barriers arise for everyone else. This approach sends an implicit message that scientific excellence is tied to physical agility and cognitive uniformity, positioning those who do not fit the mold as "exceptions" rather than integral team members.
"The bare minimum is simply what an individual requires to function," says Shawn McFadden, technical manager and adjunct professor at Toronto Metropolitan University (TMU). "True universal design is proactive. It’s about thinking holistically to ensure the environment benefits the entire team, rather than serving as a specialized concession for one person."
Adopting inclusive design as a fundamental management mindset allows for a reevaluation of how productivity and belonging are defined in research.
Breaking the reactive cycle
The traditional approach to accessibility is often hindered by silence. Frequently, a manager does not intervene until a researcher formally discloses a diagnosis or limitation. This dynamic forces scientists to share private health information just to do their jobs and creates a "waiting game" while management scrambles to procure equipment.
Leading scientific bodies, such as the Royal Society of Chemistry, argue that sustainable progress requires systemic change—moving from "intention to impact." From a business perspective, being reactive is also inefficient; retrofitting a lab is almost always more expensive than building in flexible, universal features from the start. Universal design works within an "enabling framework," ensuring every scientist can work safely and effectively from the moment they walk through the door.
The view from the rolling stool
"To see things differently, I navigate the laboratory while sitting on a rolling stool. It completely changes the way you see the workspace."
Identifying these hidden barriers requires a literal shift in perspective. McFadden suggests a simple exercise used when auditing facilities at TMU to help managers step outside their own physical biases.
"I am 5'11", so my perception of the environment is dictated by that height," McFadden explains. "To see things differently, I navigate the laboratory while sitting on a rolling stool. It completely changes the way you see the workspace."
From this vantage point, sight lines to whiteboards or safety monitors often vanish, and emergency equipment may be mounted too high. This illustrates the "dropped kerb" effect: sidewalk ramps meant for wheelchairs eventually benefited parents with strollers, travelers with heavy bags, and delivery workers.
In the lab, this principle applies to logistics like automatic doors and glass panels. While often viewed through the lens of disability access, an automatic door allows any researcher with full hands to move between rooms safely. Similarly, doors with glass panels at multiple heights provide essential line-of-sight—a universal safety feature that allows staff to check on colleagues in high-noise areas or restricted zones without having to enter the room.
The sensory lab: designing for neurodiversity
Inclusivity extends beyond what can be measured with a tape measure. Designing for neurodiversity means recognizing that researchers process sensory information in different ways. Environmental factors like lighting and sound are critical; high-flicker, cool-white fluorescent lighting can trigger migraines or sensory overload, while constant HVAC drones can impede focus for those with auditory processing sensitivities.
Crucially, universal design also applies to how information is shared. McFadden advocates for using sans-serif fonts in Standard Operating Procedures (SOPs) to improve readability and utilizing mindful color coding to ensure instructions are accessible to those with color blindness. Removing these communicative barriers ensures that safety and clarity are universal. As noted in Times Higher Education, rethinking these structures is essential for a more equitable and efficient research culture.
Safety as a universal standard
"Safety and accessibility are two sides of the same coin. A lab that is only safe for a person of a certain height is, by definition, a flawed lab."
Because these design choices impact how researchers interact with their environment, they are inherently tied to lab safety. Concerns are often raised that making a lab more accessible will conflict with safety rules, but real risk management means planning for the fact that people are diverse.
"Safety and accessibility are two sides of the same coin," McFadden says. "A lab that is only safe for a person of a certain height is, by definition, a flawed lab."
Inclusive design improves safety by creating multiple ways to reach a safe result. By focusing on "standardized outcomes" instead of "one-size-fits-all" methods, labs build a more resilient safety culture. For example, ensuring a fume hood works whether a researcher is sitting or standing means they never have to compromise their posture to see an experiment. Accessibility, therefore, is not a distraction from safety; it is a core part of a rigorous safety program.
Rethinking performance: competence versus speed
This focus on flexible methods should also extend to how we measure performance. A subtle but pervasive barrier in lab culture is the assumption that scientific talent is tied to manual dexterity or speed. In many settings, productivity is mistakenly measured by the velocity at which a researcher can run through a protocol.
"One researcher might pour 100 media plates at a time because they've done it that way since 1991," McFadden notes. "But another person might take it one jug at a time with a break. As long as the result—sterile, high-quality media—is the same, the method should not be a problem."
When speed is valued over accuracy, managers risk measuring metrics that do not reflect competence. Intellectual skills—like analytical reasoning and data interpretation—should be the primary markers of success. It is critical to consider whether an assessment measures a researcher’s ability to interpret complex data or inadvertently tests their physical endurance over a long shift. Treating "procedural speed" as a stand-in for "intelligence" can push out brilliant researchers who simply move at a different pace.
Leading a culture of belonging
Ultimately, physical changes are insufficient if the workplace culture does not support them. McFadden believes in building trust through consistent, open communication. Monthly meetings should include time for one simple question: "What can I do for you?"
"This isn't a quick process," McFadden says. "You build trust by removing small stuff. When a team sees that management is genuinely trying to help them work the way they need to, they will feel more comfortable speaking up about the bigger barriers."
In this role, the manager becomes an "enabler." Quick check-ins can reveal that a loud machine is distracting or that a specific station needs a different stool. These insights help prevent turnover and catch "invisible" barriers that a physical audit might miss.
Final thoughts
Inclusive design is not a project to be "finished"; it is an evolving way of managing. The shift must move from simple activity to big cultural change, where inclusion is the organizing principle rather than an afterthought.
"You can't be a manager with your office door closed," McFadden says. "Talk to your team. Celebrate small wins—like a student gaining independence because you fixed an accessible setup—and the bigger culture will follow."
By removing barriers, managers ensure the lab remains a place where success is driven by the strength of the mind, not the agility of the body. By championing spaces as expansive as the ideas being explored, managers empower the next generation of researchers to push the boundaries of science together.













