A topic that overlaps with these thoughts is “universal design”.

Universal design is defined as an inclusive approach to the design of mainstream mass-market products and environments that take into account the needs and abilities of a broad range of consumers – including people with disabilities.

Architecture accessible to individuals who ambulate on wheels as well as legs; ATMs readily usable by customers who are sighted or blind; TV remotes operable with or without rheumatoid arthritis – these are examples of universal design. This apparently common-sense idea is actually quite radical in much of the consumer product industry. The pursuit of universal design and attempts to raise awareness and define more inclusive design standards in the commercial world are laudable and important pursuits.

But (and here’s where we get back to the “picky complaint” we started with): if chairs and bikes and windows and virtually every other human-made device in our daily lives is meant to help us by filling the gap between what we can do unaided and what our tasks and environments demand of us, then it is Assistive Technology; and if this AT is designed for the mass market; then the distinction between AT and universal design starts to look a bit artificial.

Everyone needs and uses products to enhance and extend their abilities; so these are all examples of AT; so AT is universal. By that view, a person would be truly atypical only if s/he did not use technology. None of us can accurately define our independence as being able to function without AT.