of the United Kingdom’s capitol city.
Little-known fact: one in five individuals worldwide is neurodivergent, and this population will grow exponentially over the coming decades.
I recently caught up with a retail design contact of mine who has more than 15 years of experience working for well-established and widely respected international corporations. He is undoubtedly someone most would consider an experienced voice in our field.
Neurodivergent: adjective. differing in mental or neurological function from what is considered typical (frequently used with reference to autistic spectrum disorders); not neurotypical.
As we brought each other up to speed on our professional developments, I shared a current project of mine: raising awareness of neuroinclusion in retail design practices.
Through thought leadership and an upcoming masterclass, I hope to not only raise awareness but also encourage a revolution of sorts in our industry; one that fosters more inclusive thinking and evolves our practices to provide concrete support and drive necessary change.
Despite the reality that we have an increasing population of neurodivergence, these individuals are massively underserved in many areas of society; what’s worse is that their needs are rarely considered when brands design physical spaces.
His response reaffirmed just how dire the situation is: “Admittedly, I don't know much about the topic, but it seems complicated to me to take everything into account all the time. Because if I'm correct, it's a very individual challenge. Everyone has their sensitivities. For you, it’s noise. For others, it will be screens. And for others, it’s movement or light.”
After a slight pause, he added: “I think the key, as with any retail project, is to know who we are targeting.”
At first, I was completely caught off guard to hear this from such an experienced retail professional. And then I must admit, I got angry.
Why?
There were several red flags in his line of thinking that were not only incorrect but flat-out irresponsible. If other retail professionals share these sentiments, it can lead to more poor decision-making within our industry, which is already suffering from severe homogeneity.
“I don’t know much, but…”
I have been attempting to raise awareness of the retail sector’s lack of neurodiversity for the past few years, and all of the issues ladder up to one clear truth: Practitioners have varying levels of knowledge and comfort with the term “neurodivergence.” There’s not only regional variance, but also organizational and individual variance.
However, regardless of location, I would argue that most people could be placed in four core groups:
- Those who know nothing.
- Those who are familiar with the term “neurodivergence” but do not know what it means.
- Those who know the term and have some basic notions of what it may encompass, most often linking it to more specific conditions falling under its umbrella, such as autism and ADHD in most English-speaking countries, and giftedness in French-speaking countries.
- Those who know enough to feel comfortable with the topic.
Lack of knowledge alone is not the issue. It’s when a lack of knowledge and confidence prevents people in those first three buckets from even engaging with neurodiversity as a subject. When I bring it up, they stay quiet and wait for me to change the subject. Or, they eventually change the topic themselves.
Make no mistake: this is not me pointing fingers. I have always felt a sense of discomfort relating to the topic, largely because it has always been treated as “dirty” or taboo, especially in continental European cultures. And now, instead of making progress in opening dialogue about it, it seems that politicians around the world are generating even more unease and misinformation. Just consider the most recent discourses around “mild autism” in Australia and “the Tylenol effect” in the US.
Media and political discourse are turning neurodivergence into an increasingly loaded topic, as if they were discussing political or religious beliefs. But the fact is, neurodivergence is not a choice. These are medically recognized conditions that concern 20% of the population worldwide today, with more to follow soon.
Given the current political climate, I can understand some designers’ hesitations. (Although I will gladly still challenge it.) The issue, however, lies with those like my peer who not only admit their lack of knowledge but also express an implicit lack of interest and willingness to fill that knowledge gap. Instead, they simply make excuses to validate why they can’t (and won’t) take action.
“Inclusive design is too difficult."
“Designing for all is impossible!” is a common refrain.
It is the most predictable and, in turn, the most frustrating excuse, in my opinion.
Yes, universal design is a very complex process, one that’s often hard to achieve. However, that doesn’t mean these attempts should be set aside instantly. As always in life, critical thinking and nuance are essential. Just because something seems impossible does not mean we should stop trying. Shouldn’t we, especially in a creative and innovation-driven sector such as retail, push the limits of what is considered “possible”?
Besides, the idea is not to create stores that perfectly fit every customer’s needs. We have never considered this to be a feasible reality for any brand, so why would we start now?
Instead, we’re aiming for a bit more thought and intention for our neurodivergent consumers, and the same basic principles of inclusion apply.
Begin your neuroinclusive retail design journey by simply acknowledging that this group of individuals exists. This significant pool of the population has specific needs that you and I are not used to considering. Next, educate yourself on what those needs may be. And finally, critically reflect on what is feasible to address these needs. Only with proper research and education can we appreciate what is truly possible.
Arguably, some of the basic principles of neuroinclusive design are rather evident. The three most common ones include:
- Offer options (including shortcuts) in routing and staff interactions
- Ensure clarity in flow, product presentation, and signage
- Avoid sensory overload.
These principles alone have been known to benefit not just neurodivergent individuals but everyone. Since good retail design often unconsciously addresses the essential needs of most neurodivergent individuals, how about we make these characteristics more intentional?
Of course, I appreciate that the above core principles may, in some instances, require significant adjustments to existing stores. However, there are simpler solutions to consider. Why not investigate the Navilens app, which allows retailers to create store-specific guides for the hard of seeing to use on their own mobile phones?
There’s also the ever-popular “quiet hour,” which retailers like Walmart and Aldi have implemented.
Sephora’s color-coded basket tests in Europe are a great way to give neurodivergent (and all) customers control over whether associates engage with them. Don’t underestimate the impact a basket can have. At very little cost to your organization, you are in fact sharing a powerful, instantaneous message of care with your customers.
Now’s the time to shift our field’s mindset from "neuroinclusive retail design is too complicated," to "this isn't actually all that hard and can be beneficial to all, including us."
“Neurodivergents are not our target.”
This is the part of the conversation that I take the most issue with: “the key with any retail project is to know who you are targeting.” This implicitly suggests that neurodivergent people are a target audience, just as skaters or yoga enthusiasts would be. It also implies that neurodivergence can, in fact, be used as a defining characteristic for the customer personas we, as brand and retail strategists, develop for our customers. Like lifestyle preferences and personal tastes, some view neurodivergence as if it were something someone could choose, change, or control.
Most neurodivergents, including myself, would take great offense at this line of thinking. We do not choose how our brains operate, any more than we choose our gender, skin, hair, or eye color. Our neurodivergences are recognized medical conditions, as already stated above. Tangible proof exists to support this fact.
Even implicitly suggesting that neurodivergent individuals are some sort of target audience that a retailer can choose to cater to or not is nothing short of discriminatory. And I personally very much struggle to find excuses for this specific train of thought.
Commerce is an intrinsic part of our societal ecosystem, which means shopping is part of our daily lives. We all need to do it, so we should all have equal access to it. Shopping accessibility should not now, or ever, be based on a person’s physical or mental characteristics and abilities. In fact, smart retailers should aim to enhance store accessibility so that it naturally includes individuals with varying physical and mental conditions. Why would any retail organization consciously alienate willing and eager customers?
Instead, what I’m largely seeing in retail design projects is a return to basic mistakes, especially related to wheelchair users. Here is a picture of such a customer at the newly reopened Zara store on the Champs Elysées in Paris. This store is in a prime location and took more than a year to renovate. It is a beautiful, high-traffic store that includes some spectacular tech bells and whistles. But the retailer has eliminated traditional cash wraps and doesn’t have self-scan payment units that are accessible to wheelchair users. Need I say more?
The Common Thread: Lost Empathy
The underlying theme in my conversation with my peer is that he is prioritizing his own comfort over customer well-being. His laziness to educate himself, step out of his comfort zone, and change his ways of working is leading him to hide behind false pre-conceived ideas and wildly misplaced “brand specificity” excuses, which will ultimately hurt his company’s success.
What strikes me most of all, though, is the complete lack of empathy. Retail designers require countless competencies, but in my view, empathy is the most important one. We design for others. Not ourselves.
One of the first things I teach interior architecture students who want to become retail designers is that in our line of work, there is very little room for personal opinions and styles. We must project ourselves into the brand’s universe and literally walk in the shoes of its target customers.
But besides lacking empathy, ignoring neuroinclusivity reflects poor strategic thinking. Our society is currently suffering from an isolation crisis. With the growth of digitalization, we all feel increasingly disconnected. An interesting impact of that for the retail industry is that people are now returning to physical stores to find the connections they lack elsewhere.
Commerce is once again playing one of its key roles since the beginning: bringing people and communities together.
The most successful retailers understand this and now offer carefully crafted physical retail experiences for the communities they target. In this process, they apply empathetic thinking, which means my call to add neuroinclusive considerations to their practices should not be a step too far.
Conversely, those who lack empathy in their retail design approach only stand to lose. Indeed, it is clear that the slippery slope of lost empathy will lead them to not only alienate the growing neurodivergent population but also completely lose touch with the target audience they are currently attempting to reach and engage.
Are you perhaps unconsciously joining this group and venturing further into irrelevance? Take a moment to critically reflect: what is your current level of knowledge of neurodivergence? Do you already integrate neuroinclusive considerations in your retail design practices? And most importantly, are you willing to learn more and take action?
I hope that, together, we can break mental blocks and bring a much-needed change to our industry—one that will benefit you as much as your customers and society at large.
Elisa Servais, PhD, is a retail design expert who combines 12+ years of practice in Shanghai, London, and Brussels with 8 years in academia, researching and teaching this discipline. Her doctoral thesis aimed to gain a better understanding of valuable in-store experiences, with a special focus on gathering insights to better design these. She currently offers various consultancy services to share her passion, expertise, and call for a more strategy-driven, holistic, omnichannel, collaborative, and inclusive approach to retail design practices with as wide an audience as possible.
Little-known fact: one in five individuals worldwide is neurodivergent, and this population will grow exponentially over the coming decades.
I recently caught up with a retail design contact of mine who has more than 15 years of experience working for well-established and widely respected international corporations. He is undoubtedly someone most would consider an experienced voice in our field.
Neurodivergent: adjective. differing in mental or neurological function from what is considered typical (frequently used with reference to autistic spectrum disorders); not neurotypical.
As we brought each other up to speed on our professional developments, I shared a current project of mine: raising awareness of neuroinclusion in retail design practices.
Through thought leadership and an upcoming masterclass, I hope to not only raise awareness but also encourage a revolution of sorts in our industry; one that fosters more inclusive thinking and evolves our practices to provide concrete support and drive necessary change.
Despite the reality that we have an increasing population of neurodivergence, these individuals are massively underserved in many areas of society; what’s worse is that their needs are rarely considered when brands design physical spaces.
His response reaffirmed just how dire the situation is: “Admittedly, I don't know much about the topic, but it seems complicated to me to take everything into account all the time. Because if I'm correct, it's a very individual challenge. Everyone has their sensitivities. For you, it’s noise. For others, it will be screens. And for others, it’s movement or light.”
After a slight pause, he added: “I think the key, as with any retail project, is to know who we are targeting.”
At first, I was completely caught off guard to hear this from such an experienced retail professional. And then I must admit, I got angry.
Why?
There were several red flags in his line of thinking that were not only incorrect but flat-out irresponsible. If other retail professionals share these sentiments, it can lead to more poor decision-making within our industry, which is already suffering from severe homogeneity.
“I don’t know much, but…”
I have been attempting to raise awareness of the retail sector’s lack of neurodiversity for the past few years, and all of the issues ladder up to one clear truth: Practitioners have varying levels of knowledge and comfort with the term “neurodivergence.” There’s not only regional variance, but also organizational and individual variance.
However, regardless of location, I would argue that most people could be placed in four core groups:
- Those who know nothing.
- Those who are familiar with the term “neurodivergence” but do not know what it means.
- Those who know the term and have some basic notions of what it may encompass, most often linking it to more specific conditions falling under its umbrella, such as autism and ADHD in most English-speaking countries, and giftedness in French-speaking countries.
- Those who know enough to feel comfortable with the topic.
Lack of knowledge alone is not the issue. It’s when a lack of knowledge and confidence prevents people in those first three buckets from even engaging with neurodiversity as a subject. When I bring it up, they stay quiet and wait for me to change the subject. Or, they eventually change the topic themselves.
Make no mistake: this is not me pointing fingers. I have always felt a sense of discomfort relating to the topic, largely because it has always been treated as “dirty” or taboo, especially in continental European cultures. And now, instead of making progress in opening dialogue about it, it seems that politicians around the world are generating even more unease and misinformation. Just consider the most recent discourses around “mild autism” in Australia and “the Tylenol effect” in the US.
Media and political discourse are turning neurodivergence into an increasingly loaded topic, as if they were discussing political or religious beliefs. But the fact is, neurodivergence is not a choice. These are medically recognized conditions that concern 20% of the population worldwide today, with more to follow soon.
Given the current political climate, I can understand some designers’ hesitations. (Although I will gladly still challenge it.) The issue, however, lies with those like my peer who not only admit their lack of knowledge but also express an implicit lack of interest and willingness to fill that knowledge gap. Instead, they simply make excuses to validate why they can’t (and won’t) take action.
“Inclusive design is too difficult."
“Designing for all is impossible!” is a common refrain.
It is the most predictable and, in turn, the most frustrating excuse, in my opinion.
Yes, universal design is a very complex process, one that’s often hard to achieve. However, that doesn’t mean these attempts should be set aside instantly. As always in life, critical thinking and nuance are essential. Just because something seems impossible does not mean we should stop trying. Shouldn’t we, especially in a creative and innovation-driven sector such as retail, push the limits of what is considered “possible”?
Besides, the idea is not to create stores that perfectly fit every customer’s needs. We have never considered this to be a feasible reality for any brand, so why would we start now?
Instead, we’re aiming for a bit more thought and intention for our neurodivergent consumers, and the same basic principles of inclusion apply.
Begin your neuroinclusive retail design journey by simply acknowledging that this group of individuals exists. This significant pool of the population has specific needs that you and I are not used to considering. Next, educate yourself on what those needs may be. And finally, critically reflect on what is feasible to address these needs. Only with proper research and education can we appreciate what is truly possible.
Arguably, some of the basic principles of neuroinclusive design are rather evident. The three most common ones include:
- Offer options (including shortcuts) in routing and staff interactions
- Ensure clarity in flow, product presentation, and signage
- Avoid sensory overload.
These principles alone have been known to benefit not just neurodivergent individuals but everyone. Since good retail design often unconsciously addresses the essential needs of most neurodivergent individuals, how about we make these characteristics more intentional?
Of course, I appreciate that the above core principles may, in some instances, require significant adjustments to existing stores. However, there are simpler solutions to consider. Why not investigate the Navilens app, which allows retailers to create store-specific guides for the hard of seeing to use on their own mobile phones?
There’s also the ever-popular “quiet hour,” which retailers like Walmart and Aldi have implemented.
Sephora’s color-coded basket tests in Europe are a great way to give neurodivergent (and all) customers control over whether associates engage with them. Don’t underestimate the impact a basket can have. At very little cost to your organization, you are in fact sharing a powerful, instantaneous message of care with your customers.
Now’s the time to shift our field’s mindset from "neuroinclusive retail design is too complicated," to "this isn't actually all that hard and can be beneficial to all, including us."
“Neurodivergents are not our target.”
This is the part of the conversation that I take the most issue with: “the key with any retail project is to know who you are targeting.” This implicitly suggests that neurodivergent people are a target audience, just as skaters or yoga enthusiasts would be. It also implies that neurodivergence can, in fact, be used as a defining characteristic for the customer personas we, as brand and retail strategists, develop for our customers. Like lifestyle preferences and personal tastes, some view neurodivergence as if it were something someone could choose, change, or control.
Most neurodivergents, including myself, would take great offense at this line of thinking. We do not choose how our brains operate, any more than we choose our gender, skin, hair, or eye color. Our neurodivergences are recognized medical conditions, as already stated above. Tangible proof exists to support this fact.
Even implicitly suggesting that neurodivergent individuals are some sort of target audience that a retailer can choose to cater to or not is nothing short of discriminatory. And I personally very much struggle to find excuses for this specific train of thought.
Commerce is an intrinsic part of our societal ecosystem, which means shopping is part of our daily lives. We all need to do it, so we should all have equal access to it. Shopping accessibility should not now, or ever, be based on a person’s physical or mental characteristics and abilities. In fact, smart retailers should aim to enhance store accessibility so that it naturally includes individuals with varying physical and mental conditions. Why would any retail organization consciously alienate willing and eager customers?
Instead, what I’m largely seeing in retail design projects is a return to basic mistakes, especially related to wheelchair users. Here is a picture of such a customer at the newly reopened Zara store on the Champs Elysées in Paris. This store is in a prime location and took more than a year to renovate. It is a beautiful, high-traffic store that includes some spectacular tech bells and whistles. But the retailer has eliminated traditional cash wraps and doesn’t have self-scan payment units that are accessible to wheelchair users. Need I say more?
The Common Thread: Lost Empathy
The underlying theme in my conversation with my peer is that he is prioritizing his own comfort over customer well-being. His laziness to educate himself, step out of his comfort zone, and change his ways of working is leading him to hide behind false pre-conceived ideas and wildly misplaced “brand specificity” excuses, which will ultimately hurt his company’s success.
What strikes me most of all, though, is the complete lack of empathy. Retail designers require countless competencies, but in my view, empathy is the most important one. We design for others. Not ourselves.
One of the first things I teach interior architecture students who want to become retail designers is that in our line of work, there is very little room for personal opinions and styles. We must project ourselves into the brand’s universe and literally walk in the shoes of its target customers.
But besides lacking empathy, ignoring neuroinclusivity reflects poor strategic thinking. Our society is currently suffering from an isolation crisis. With the growth of digitalization, we all feel increasingly disconnected. An interesting impact of that for the retail industry is that people are now returning to physical stores to find the connections they lack elsewhere.
Commerce is once again playing one of its key roles since the beginning: bringing people and communities together.
The most successful retailers understand this and now offer carefully crafted physical retail experiences for the communities they target. In this process, they apply empathetic thinking, which means my call to add neuroinclusive considerations to their practices should not be a step too far.
Conversely, those who lack empathy in their retail design approach only stand to lose. Indeed, it is clear that the slippery slope of lost empathy will lead them to not only alienate the growing neurodivergent population but also completely lose touch with the target audience they are currently attempting to reach and engage.
Are you perhaps unconsciously joining this group and venturing further into irrelevance? Take a moment to critically reflect: what is your current level of knowledge of neurodivergence? Do you already integrate neuroinclusive considerations in your retail design practices? And most importantly, are you willing to learn more and take action?
I hope that, together, we can break mental blocks and bring a much-needed change to our industry—one that will benefit you as much as your customers and society at large.
Elisa Servais, PhD, is a retail design expert who combines 12+ years of practice in Shanghai, London, and Brussels with 8 years in academia, researching and teaching this discipline. Her doctoral thesis aimed to gain a better understanding of valuable in-store experiences, with a special focus on gathering insights to better design these. She currently offers various consultancy services to share her passion, expertise, and call for a more strategy-driven, holistic, omnichannel, collaborative, and inclusive approach to retail design practices with as wide an audience as possible.
Little-known fact: one in five individuals worldwide is neurodivergent, and this population will grow exponentially over the coming decades.
I recently caught up with a retail design contact of mine who has more than 15 years of experience working for well-established and widely respected international corporations. He is undoubtedly someone most would consider an experienced voice in our field.
Neurodivergent: adjective. differing in mental or neurological function from what is considered typical (frequently used with reference to autistic spectrum disorders); not neurotypical.
As we brought each other up to speed on our professional developments, I shared a current project of mine: raising awareness of neuroinclusion in retail design practices.
Through thought leadership and an upcoming masterclass, I hope to not only raise awareness but also encourage a revolution of sorts in our industry; one that fosters more inclusive thinking and evolves our practices to provide concrete support and drive necessary change.
Despite the reality that we have an increasing population of neurodivergence, these individuals are massively underserved in many areas of society; what’s worse is that their needs are rarely considered when brands design physical spaces.
His response reaffirmed just how dire the situation is: “Admittedly, I don't know much about the topic, but it seems complicated to me to take everything into account all the time. Because if I'm correct, it's a very individual challenge. Everyone has their sensitivities. For you, it’s noise. For others, it will be screens. And for others, it’s movement or light.”
After a slight pause, he added: “I think the key, as with any retail project, is to know who we are targeting.”
At first, I was completely caught off guard to hear this from such an experienced retail professional. And then I must admit, I got angry.
Why?
There were several red flags in his line of thinking that were not only incorrect but flat-out irresponsible. If other retail professionals share these sentiments, it can lead to more poor decision-making within our industry, which is already suffering from severe homogeneity.
“I don’t know much, but…”
I have been attempting to raise awareness of the retail sector’s lack of neurodiversity for the past few years, and all of the issues ladder up to one clear truth: Practitioners have varying levels of knowledge and comfort with the term “neurodivergence.” There’s not only regional variance, but also organizational and individual variance.
However, regardless of location, I would argue that most people could be placed in four core groups:
- Those who know nothing.
- Those who are familiar with the term “neurodivergence” but do not know what it means.
- Those who know the term and have some basic notions of what it may encompass, most often linking it to more specific conditions falling under its umbrella, such as autism and ADHD in most English-speaking countries, and giftedness in French-speaking countries.
- Those who know enough to feel comfortable with the topic.
Lack of knowledge alone is not the issue. It’s when a lack of knowledge and confidence prevents people in those first three buckets from even engaging with neurodiversity as a subject. When I bring it up, they stay quiet and wait for me to change the subject. Or, they eventually change the topic themselves.
Make no mistake: this is not me pointing fingers. I have always felt a sense of discomfort relating to the topic, largely because it has always been treated as “dirty” or taboo, especially in continental European cultures. And now, instead of making progress in opening dialogue about it, it seems that politicians around the world are generating even more unease and misinformation. Just consider the most recent discourses around “mild autism” in Australia and “the Tylenol effect” in the US.
Media and political discourse are turning neurodivergence into an increasingly loaded topic, as if they were discussing political or religious beliefs. But the fact is, neurodivergence is not a choice. These are medically recognized conditions that concern 20% of the population worldwide today, with more to follow soon.
Given the current political climate, I can understand some designers’ hesitations. (Although I will gladly still challenge it.) The issue, however, lies with those like my peer who not only admit their lack of knowledge but also express an implicit lack of interest and willingness to fill that knowledge gap. Instead, they simply make excuses to validate why they can’t (and won’t) take action.
“Inclusive design is too difficult."
“Designing for all is impossible!” is a common refrain.
It is the most predictable and, in turn, the most frustrating excuse, in my opinion.
Yes, universal design is a very complex process, one that’s often hard to achieve. However, that doesn’t mean these attempts should be set aside instantly. As always in life, critical thinking and nuance are essential. Just because something seems impossible does not mean we should stop trying. Shouldn’t we, especially in a creative and innovation-driven sector such as retail, push the limits of what is considered “possible”?
Besides, the idea is not to create stores that perfectly fit every customer’s needs. We have never considered this to be a feasible reality for any brand, so why would we start now?
Instead, we’re aiming for a bit more thought and intention for our neurodivergent consumers, and the same basic principles of inclusion apply.
Begin your neuroinclusive retail design journey by simply acknowledging that this group of individuals exists. This significant pool of the population has specific needs that you and I are not used to considering. Next, educate yourself on what those needs may be. And finally, critically reflect on what is feasible to address these needs. Only with proper research and education can we appreciate what is truly possible.
Arguably, some of the basic principles of neuroinclusive design are rather evident. The three most common ones include:
- Offer options (including shortcuts) in routing and staff interactions
- Ensure clarity in flow, product presentation, and signage
- Avoid sensory overload.
These principles alone have been known to benefit not just neurodivergent individuals but everyone. Since good retail design often unconsciously addresses the essential needs of most neurodivergent individuals, how about we make these characteristics more intentional?
Of course, I appreciate that the above core principles may, in some instances, require significant adjustments to existing stores. However, there are simpler solutions to consider. Why not investigate the Navilens app, which allows retailers to create store-specific guides for the hard of seeing to use on their own mobile phones?
There’s also the ever-popular “quiet hour,” which retailers like Walmart and Aldi have implemented.
Sephora’s color-coded basket tests in Europe are a great way to give neurodivergent (and all) customers control over whether associates engage with them. Don’t underestimate the impact a basket can have. At very little cost to your organization, you are in fact sharing a powerful, instantaneous message of care with your customers.
Now’s the time to shift our field’s mindset from "neuroinclusive retail design is too complicated," to "this isn't actually all that hard and can be beneficial to all, including us."
“Neurodivergents are not our target.”
This is the part of the conversation that I take the most issue with: “the key with any retail project is to know who you are targeting.” This implicitly suggests that neurodivergent people are a target audience, just as skaters or yoga enthusiasts would be. It also implies that neurodivergence can, in fact, be used as a defining characteristic for the customer personas we, as brand and retail strategists, develop for our customers. Like lifestyle preferences and personal tastes, some view neurodivergence as if it were something someone could choose, change, or control.
Most neurodivergents, including myself, would take great offense at this line of thinking. We do not choose how our brains operate, any more than we choose our gender, skin, hair, or eye color. Our neurodivergences are recognized medical conditions, as already stated above. Tangible proof exists to support this fact.
Even implicitly suggesting that neurodivergent individuals are some sort of target audience that a retailer can choose to cater to or not is nothing short of discriminatory. And I personally very much struggle to find excuses for this specific train of thought.
Commerce is an intrinsic part of our societal ecosystem, which means shopping is part of our daily lives. We all need to do it, so we should all have equal access to it. Shopping accessibility should not now, or ever, be based on a person’s physical or mental characteristics and abilities. In fact, smart retailers should aim to enhance store accessibility so that it naturally includes individuals with varying physical and mental conditions. Why would any retail organization consciously alienate willing and eager customers?
Instead, what I’m largely seeing in retail design projects is a return to basic mistakes, especially related to wheelchair users. Here is a picture of such a customer at the newly reopened Zara store on the Champs Elysées in Paris. This store is in a prime location and took more than a year to renovate. It is a beautiful, high-traffic store that includes some spectacular tech bells and whistles. But the retailer has eliminated traditional cash wraps and doesn’t have self-scan payment units that are accessible to wheelchair users. Need I say more?
The Common Thread: Lost Empathy
The underlying theme in my conversation with my peer is that he is prioritizing his own comfort over customer well-being. His laziness to educate himself, step out of his comfort zone, and change his ways of working is leading him to hide behind false pre-conceived ideas and wildly misplaced “brand specificity” excuses, which will ultimately hurt his company’s success.
What strikes me most of all, though, is the complete lack of empathy. Retail designers require countless competencies, but in my view, empathy is the most important one. We design for others. Not ourselves.
One of the first things I teach interior architecture students who want to become retail designers is that in our line of work, there is very little room for personal opinions and styles. We must project ourselves into the brand’s universe and literally walk in the shoes of its target customers.
But besides lacking empathy, ignoring neuroinclusivity reflects poor strategic thinking. Our society is currently suffering from an isolation crisis. With the growth of digitalization, we all feel increasingly disconnected. An interesting impact of that for the retail industry is that people are now returning to physical stores to find the connections they lack elsewhere.
Commerce is once again playing one of its key roles since the beginning: bringing people and communities together.
The most successful retailers understand this and now offer carefully crafted physical retail experiences for the communities they target. In this process, they apply empathetic thinking, which means my call to add neuroinclusive considerations to their practices should not be a step too far.
Conversely, those who lack empathy in their retail design approach only stand to lose. Indeed, it is clear that the slippery slope of lost empathy will lead them to not only alienate the growing neurodivergent population but also completely lose touch with the target audience they are currently attempting to reach and engage.
Are you perhaps unconsciously joining this group and venturing further into irrelevance? Take a moment to critically reflect: what is your current level of knowledge of neurodivergence? Do you already integrate neuroinclusive considerations in your retail design practices? And most importantly, are you willing to learn more and take action?
I hope that, together, we can break mental blocks and bring a much-needed change to our industry—one that will benefit you as much as your customers and society at large.
Elisa Servais, PhD, is a retail design expert who combines 12+ years of practice in Shanghai, London, and Brussels with 8 years in academia, researching and teaching this discipline. Her doctoral thesis aimed to gain a better understanding of valuable in-store experiences, with a special focus on gathering insights to better design these. She currently offers various consultancy services to share her passion, expertise, and call for a more strategy-driven, holistic, omnichannel, collaborative, and inclusive approach to retail design practices with as wide an audience as possible.
Little-known fact: one in five individuals worldwide is neurodivergent, and this population will grow exponentially over the coming decades.
I recently caught up with a retail design contact of mine who has more than 15 years of experience working for well-established and widely respected international corporations. He is undoubtedly someone most would consider an experienced voice in our field.
Neurodivergent: adjective. differing in mental or neurological function from what is considered typical (frequently used with reference to autistic spectrum disorders); not neurotypical.
As we brought each other up to speed on our professional developments, I shared a current project of mine: raising awareness of neuroinclusion in retail design practices.
Through thought leadership and an upcoming masterclass, I hope to not only raise awareness but also encourage a revolution of sorts in our industry; one that fosters more inclusive thinking and evolves our practices to provide concrete support and drive necessary change.
Despite the reality that we have an increasing population of neurodivergence, these individuals are massively underserved in many areas of society; what’s worse is that their needs are rarely considered when brands design physical spaces.
His response reaffirmed just how dire the situation is: “Admittedly, I don't know much about the topic, but it seems complicated to me to take everything into account all the time. Because if I'm correct, it's a very individual challenge. Everyone has their sensitivities. For you, it’s noise. For others, it will be screens. And for others, it’s movement or light.”
After a slight pause, he added: “I think the key, as with any retail project, is to know who we are targeting.”
At first, I was completely caught off guard to hear this from such an experienced retail professional. And then I must admit, I got angry.
Why?
There were several red flags in his line of thinking that were not only incorrect but flat-out irresponsible. If other retail professionals share these sentiments, it can lead to more poor decision-making within our industry, which is already suffering from severe homogeneity.
“I don’t know much, but…”
I have been attempting to raise awareness of the retail sector’s lack of neurodiversity for the past few years, and all of the issues ladder up to one clear truth: Practitioners have varying levels of knowledge and comfort with the term “neurodivergence.” There’s not only regional variance, but also organizational and individual variance.
However, regardless of location, I would argue that most people could be placed in four core groups:
- Those who know nothing.
- Those who are familiar with the term “neurodivergence” but do not know what it means.
- Those who know the term and have some basic notions of what it may encompass, most often linking it to more specific conditions falling under its umbrella, such as autism and ADHD in most English-speaking countries, and giftedness in French-speaking countries.
- Those who know enough to feel comfortable with the topic.
Lack of knowledge alone is not the issue. It’s when a lack of knowledge and confidence prevents people in those first three buckets from even engaging with neurodiversity as a subject. When I bring it up, they stay quiet and wait for me to change the subject. Or, they eventually change the topic themselves.
Make no mistake: this is not me pointing fingers. I have always felt a sense of discomfort relating to the topic, largely because it has always been treated as “dirty” or taboo, especially in continental European cultures. And now, instead of making progress in opening dialogue about it, it seems that politicians around the world are generating even more unease and misinformation. Just consider the most recent discourses around “mild autism” in Australia and “the Tylenol effect” in the US.
Media and political discourse are turning neurodivergence into an increasingly loaded topic, as if they were discussing political or religious beliefs. But the fact is, neurodivergence is not a choice. These are medically recognized conditions that concern 20% of the population worldwide today, with more to follow soon.
Given the current political climate, I can understand some designers’ hesitations. (Although I will gladly still challenge it.) The issue, however, lies with those like my peer who not only admit their lack of knowledge but also express an implicit lack of interest and willingness to fill that knowledge gap. Instead, they simply make excuses to validate why they can’t (and won’t) take action.
“Inclusive design is too difficult."
“Designing for all is impossible!” is a common refrain.
It is the most predictable and, in turn, the most frustrating excuse, in my opinion.
Yes, universal design is a very complex process, one that’s often hard to achieve. However, that doesn’t mean these attempts should be set aside instantly. As always in life, critical thinking and nuance are essential. Just because something seems impossible does not mean we should stop trying. Shouldn’t we, especially in a creative and innovation-driven sector such as retail, push the limits of what is considered “possible”?
Besides, the idea is not to create stores that perfectly fit every customer’s needs. We have never considered this to be a feasible reality for any brand, so why would we start now?
Instead, we’re aiming for a bit more thought and intention for our neurodivergent consumers, and the same basic principles of inclusion apply.
Begin your neuroinclusive retail design journey by simply acknowledging that this group of individuals exists. This significant pool of the population has specific needs that you and I are not used to considering. Next, educate yourself on what those needs may be. And finally, critically reflect on what is feasible to address these needs. Only with proper research and education can we appreciate what is truly possible.
Arguably, some of the basic principles of neuroinclusive design are rather evident. The three most common ones include:
- Offer options (including shortcuts) in routing and staff interactions
- Ensure clarity in flow, product presentation, and signage
- Avoid sensory overload.
These principles alone have been known to benefit not just neurodivergent individuals but everyone. Since good retail design often unconsciously addresses the essential needs of most neurodivergent individuals, how about we make these characteristics more intentional?
Of course, I appreciate that the above core principles may, in some instances, require significant adjustments to existing stores. However, there are simpler solutions to consider. Why not investigate the Navilens app, which allows retailers to create store-specific guides for the hard of seeing to use on their own mobile phones?
There’s also the ever-popular “quiet hour,” which retailers like Walmart and Aldi have implemented.
Sephora’s color-coded basket tests in Europe are a great way to give neurodivergent (and all) customers control over whether associates engage with them. Don’t underestimate the impact a basket can have. At very little cost to your organization, you are in fact sharing a powerful, instantaneous message of care with your customers.
Now’s the time to shift our field’s mindset from "neuroinclusive retail design is too complicated," to "this isn't actually all that hard and can be beneficial to all, including us."
“Neurodivergents are not our target.”
This is the part of the conversation that I take the most issue with: “the key with any retail project is to know who you are targeting.” This implicitly suggests that neurodivergent people are a target audience, just as skaters or yoga enthusiasts would be. It also implies that neurodivergence can, in fact, be used as a defining characteristic for the customer personas we, as brand and retail strategists, develop for our customers. Like lifestyle preferences and personal tastes, some view neurodivergence as if it were something someone could choose, change, or control.
Most neurodivergents, including myself, would take great offense at this line of thinking. We do not choose how our brains operate, any more than we choose our gender, skin, hair, or eye color. Our neurodivergences are recognized medical conditions, as already stated above. Tangible proof exists to support this fact.
Even implicitly suggesting that neurodivergent individuals are some sort of target audience that a retailer can choose to cater to or not is nothing short of discriminatory. And I personally very much struggle to find excuses for this specific train of thought.
Commerce is an intrinsic part of our societal ecosystem, which means shopping is part of our daily lives. We all need to do it, so we should all have equal access to it. Shopping accessibility should not now, or ever, be based on a person’s physical or mental characteristics and abilities. In fact, smart retailers should aim to enhance store accessibility so that it naturally includes individuals with varying physical and mental conditions. Why would any retail organization consciously alienate willing and eager customers?
Instead, what I’m largely seeing in retail design projects is a return to basic mistakes, especially related to wheelchair users. Here is a picture of such a customer at the newly reopened Zara store on the Champs Elysées in Paris. This store is in a prime location and took more than a year to renovate. It is a beautiful, high-traffic store that includes some spectacular tech bells and whistles. But the retailer has eliminated traditional cash wraps and doesn’t have self-scan payment units that are accessible to wheelchair users. Need I say more?
The Common Thread: Lost Empathy
The underlying theme in my conversation with my peer is that he is prioritizing his own comfort over customer well-being. His laziness to educate himself, step out of his comfort zone, and change his ways of working is leading him to hide behind false pre-conceived ideas and wildly misplaced “brand specificity” excuses, which will ultimately hurt his company’s success.
What strikes me most of all, though, is the complete lack of empathy. Retail designers require countless competencies, but in my view, empathy is the most important one. We design for others. Not ourselves.
One of the first things I teach interior architecture students who want to become retail designers is that in our line of work, there is very little room for personal opinions and styles. We must project ourselves into the brand’s universe and literally walk in the shoes of its target customers.
But besides lacking empathy, ignoring neuroinclusivity reflects poor strategic thinking. Our society is currently suffering from an isolation crisis. With the growth of digitalization, we all feel increasingly disconnected. An interesting impact of that for the retail industry is that people are now returning to physical stores to find the connections they lack elsewhere.
Commerce is once again playing one of its key roles since the beginning: bringing people and communities together.
The most successful retailers understand this and now offer carefully crafted physical retail experiences for the communities they target. In this process, they apply empathetic thinking, which means my call to add neuroinclusive considerations to their practices should not be a step too far.
Conversely, those who lack empathy in their retail design approach only stand to lose. Indeed, it is clear that the slippery slope of lost empathy will lead them to not only alienate the growing neurodivergent population but also completely lose touch with the target audience they are currently attempting to reach and engage.
Are you perhaps unconsciously joining this group and venturing further into irrelevance? Take a moment to critically reflect: what is your current level of knowledge of neurodivergence? Do you already integrate neuroinclusive considerations in your retail design practices? And most importantly, are you willing to learn more and take action?
I hope that, together, we can break mental blocks and bring a much-needed change to our industry—one that will benefit you as much as your customers and society at large.
Elisa Servais, PhD, is a retail design expert who combines 12+ years of practice in Shanghai, London, and Brussels with 8 years in academia, researching and teaching this discipline. Her doctoral thesis aimed to gain a better understanding of valuable in-store experiences, with a special focus on gathering insights to better design these. She currently offers various consultancy services to share her passion, expertise, and call for a more strategy-driven, holistic, omnichannel, collaborative, and inclusive approach to retail design practices with as wide an audience as possible.
Little-known fact: one in five individuals worldwide is neurodivergent, and this population will grow exponentially over the coming decades.
I recently caught up with a retail design contact of mine who has more than 15 years of experience working for well-established and widely respected international corporations. He is undoubtedly someone most would consider an experienced voice in our field.
Neurodivergent: adjective. differing in mental or neurological function from what is considered typical (frequently used with reference to autistic spectrum disorders); not neurotypical.
As we brought each other up to speed on our professional developments, I shared a current project of mine: raising awareness of neuroinclusion in retail design practices.
Through thought leadership and an upcoming masterclass, I hope to not only raise awareness but also encourage a revolution of sorts in our industry; one that fosters more inclusive thinking and evolves our practices to provide concrete support and drive necessary change.
Despite the reality that we have an increasing population of neurodivergence, these individuals are massively underserved in many areas of society; what’s worse is that their needs are rarely considered when brands design physical spaces.
His response reaffirmed just how dire the situation is: “Admittedly, I don't know much about the topic, but it seems complicated to me to take everything into account all the time. Because if I'm correct, it's a very individual challenge. Everyone has their sensitivities. For you, it’s noise. For others, it will be screens. And for others, it’s movement or light.”
After a slight pause, he added: “I think the key, as with any retail project, is to know who we are targeting.”
At first, I was completely caught off guard to hear this from such an experienced retail professional. And then I must admit, I got angry.
Why?
There were several red flags in his line of thinking that were not only incorrect but flat-out irresponsible. If other retail professionals share these sentiments, it can lead to more poor decision-making within our industry, which is already suffering from severe homogeneity.
“I don’t know much, but…”
I have been attempting to raise awareness of the retail sector’s lack of neurodiversity for the past few years, and all of the issues ladder up to one clear truth: Practitioners have varying levels of knowledge and comfort with the term “neurodivergence.” There’s not only regional variance, but also organizational and individual variance.
However, regardless of location, I would argue that most people could be placed in four core groups:
- Those who know nothing.
- Those who are familiar with the term “neurodivergence” but do not know what it means.
- Those who know the term and have some basic notions of what it may encompass, most often linking it to more specific conditions falling under its umbrella, such as autism and ADHD in most English-speaking countries, and giftedness in French-speaking countries.
- Those who know enough to feel comfortable with the topic.
Lack of knowledge alone is not the issue. It’s when a lack of knowledge and confidence prevents people in those first three buckets from even engaging with neurodiversity as a subject. When I bring it up, they stay quiet and wait for me to change the subject. Or, they eventually change the topic themselves.
Make no mistake: this is not me pointing fingers. I have always felt a sense of discomfort relating to the topic, largely because it has always been treated as “dirty” or taboo, especially in continental European cultures. And now, instead of making progress in opening dialogue about it, it seems that politicians around the world are generating even more unease and misinformation. Just consider the most recent discourses around “mild autism” in Australia and “the Tylenol effect” in the US.
Media and political discourse are turning neurodivergence into an increasingly loaded topic, as if they were discussing political or religious beliefs. But the fact is, neurodivergence is not a choice. These are medically recognized conditions that concern 20% of the population worldwide today, with more to follow soon.
Given the current political climate, I can understand some designers’ hesitations. (Although I will gladly still challenge it.) The issue, however, lies with those like my peer who not only admit their lack of knowledge but also express an implicit lack of interest and willingness to fill that knowledge gap. Instead, they simply make excuses to validate why they can’t (and won’t) take action.
“Inclusive design is too difficult."
“Designing for all is impossible!” is a common refrain.
It is the most predictable and, in turn, the most frustrating excuse, in my opinion.
Yes, universal design is a very complex process, one that’s often hard to achieve. However, that doesn’t mean these attempts should be set aside instantly. As always in life, critical thinking and nuance are essential. Just because something seems impossible does not mean we should stop trying. Shouldn’t we, especially in a creative and innovation-driven sector such as retail, push the limits of what is considered “possible”?
Besides, the idea is not to create stores that perfectly fit every customer’s needs. We have never considered this to be a feasible reality for any brand, so why would we start now?
Instead, we’re aiming for a bit more thought and intention for our neurodivergent consumers, and the same basic principles of inclusion apply.
Begin your neuroinclusive retail design journey by simply acknowledging that this group of individuals exists. This significant pool of the population has specific needs that you and I are not used to considering. Next, educate yourself on what those needs may be. And finally, critically reflect on what is feasible to address these needs. Only with proper research and education can we appreciate what is truly possible.
Arguably, some of the basic principles of neuroinclusive design are rather evident. The three most common ones include:
- Offer options (including shortcuts) in routing and staff interactions
- Ensure clarity in flow, product presentation, and signage
- Avoid sensory overload.
These principles alone have been known to benefit not just neurodivergent individuals but everyone. Since good retail design often unconsciously addresses the essential needs of most neurodivergent individuals, how about we make these characteristics more intentional?
Of course, I appreciate that the above core principles may, in some instances, require significant adjustments to existing stores. However, there are simpler solutions to consider. Why not investigate the Navilens app, which allows retailers to create store-specific guides for the hard of seeing to use on their own mobile phones?
There’s also the ever-popular “quiet hour,” which retailers like Walmart and Aldi have implemented.
Sephora’s color-coded basket tests in Europe are a great way to give neurodivergent (and all) customers control over whether associates engage with them. Don’t underestimate the impact a basket can have. At very little cost to your organization, you are in fact sharing a powerful, instantaneous message of care with your customers.
Now’s the time to shift our field’s mindset from "neuroinclusive retail design is too complicated," to "this isn't actually all that hard and can be beneficial to all, including us."
“Neurodivergents are not our target.”
This is the part of the conversation that I take the most issue with: “the key with any retail project is to know who you are targeting.” This implicitly suggests that neurodivergent people are a target audience, just as skaters or yoga enthusiasts would be. It also implies that neurodivergence can, in fact, be used as a defining characteristic for the customer personas we, as brand and retail strategists, develop for our customers. Like lifestyle preferences and personal tastes, some view neurodivergence as if it were something someone could choose, change, or control.
Most neurodivergents, including myself, would take great offense at this line of thinking. We do not choose how our brains operate, any more than we choose our gender, skin, hair, or eye color. Our neurodivergences are recognized medical conditions, as already stated above. Tangible proof exists to support this fact.
Even implicitly suggesting that neurodivergent individuals are some sort of target audience that a retailer can choose to cater to or not is nothing short of discriminatory. And I personally very much struggle to find excuses for this specific train of thought.
Commerce is an intrinsic part of our societal ecosystem, which means shopping is part of our daily lives. We all need to do it, so we should all have equal access to it. Shopping accessibility should not now, or ever, be based on a person’s physical or mental characteristics and abilities. In fact, smart retailers should aim to enhance store accessibility so that it naturally includes individuals with varying physical and mental conditions. Why would any retail organization consciously alienate willing and eager customers?
Instead, what I’m largely seeing in retail design projects is a return to basic mistakes, especially related to wheelchair users. Here is a picture of such a customer at the newly reopened Zara store on the Champs Elysées in Paris. This store is in a prime location and took more than a year to renovate. It is a beautiful, high-traffic store that includes some spectacular tech bells and whistles. But the retailer has eliminated traditional cash wraps and doesn’t have self-scan payment units that are accessible to wheelchair users. Need I say more?
The Common Thread: Lost Empathy
The underlying theme in my conversation with my peer is that he is prioritizing his own comfort over customer well-being. His laziness to educate himself, step out of his comfort zone, and change his ways of working is leading him to hide behind false pre-conceived ideas and wildly misplaced “brand specificity” excuses, which will ultimately hurt his company’s success.
What strikes me most of all, though, is the complete lack of empathy. Retail designers require countless competencies, but in my view, empathy is the most important one. We design for others. Not ourselves.
One of the first things I teach interior architecture students who want to become retail designers is that in our line of work, there is very little room for personal opinions and styles. We must project ourselves into the brand’s universe and literally walk in the shoes of its target customers.
But besides lacking empathy, ignoring neuroinclusivity reflects poor strategic thinking. Our society is currently suffering from an isolation crisis. With the growth of digitalization, we all feel increasingly disconnected. An interesting impact of that for the retail industry is that people are now returning to physical stores to find the connections they lack elsewhere.
Commerce is once again playing one of its key roles since the beginning: bringing people and communities together.
The most successful retailers understand this and now offer carefully crafted physical retail experiences for the communities they target. In this process, they apply empathetic thinking, which means my call to add neuroinclusive considerations to their practices should not be a step too far.
Conversely, those who lack empathy in their retail design approach only stand to lose. Indeed, it is clear that the slippery slope of lost empathy will lead them to not only alienate the growing neurodivergent population but also completely lose touch with the target audience they are currently attempting to reach and engage.
Are you perhaps unconsciously joining this group and venturing further into irrelevance? Take a moment to critically reflect: what is your current level of knowledge of neurodivergence? Do you already integrate neuroinclusive considerations in your retail design practices? And most importantly, are you willing to learn more and take action?
I hope that, together, we can break mental blocks and bring a much-needed change to our industry—one that will benefit you as much as your customers and society at large.
Elisa Servais, PhD, is a retail design expert who combines 12+ years of practice in Shanghai, London, and Brussels with 8 years in academia, researching and teaching this discipline. Her doctoral thesis aimed to gain a better understanding of valuable in-store experiences, with a special focus on gathering insights to better design these. She currently offers various consultancy services to share her passion, expertise, and call for a more strategy-driven, holistic, omnichannel, collaborative, and inclusive approach to retail design practices with as wide an audience as possible.
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