View case
“I showed this to my mom and she loved the idea.”
“If I use websites I would never want [...], so we should not have it.”
Sentences like these might sound familiar if you work on digital products. But while they may seem harmless, comments like this don’t just fall short—they can actively harm the product.
Let’s start by understanding what bias means in the world of design. According to the Interaction Design Foundation: “Bias is the way humans interpret and evaluate the context and information about something according to how these are presented or how they perceive these through the lens of their values and beliefs. Bias can impair judgment and decision-making, so designers work to overcome insight problems by taking fresh approaches.” So it’s in our nature to view the experiences of others through our own lens. Everyone has bias to some degree. The key is learning to recognise it—so we can design beyond it.
Creativity can suffer when unconscious preferences shape our decisions. Confirmation bias leads us to stick with ideas that support what we already believe, instead of exploring new directions. Visual bias can keep us locked into familiar aesthetics, even when they don’t serve the user. The bandwagon effect encourages us to follow trends without asking whether they’re actually relevant. Even the primacy and recency effect can shape brainstorming sessions, giving early or late ideas more weight than they deserve.
Inclusivity breaks down when assumptions go unchecked. False consensus bias—believing that your own experience is the norm—can lead to products that reflect only dominant perspectives. Implicit bias often means feedback from those who share our background gets more attention, whether we realise it or not. Combined with confirmation bias, this creates an echo chamber. And the sunk cost fallacy can make it hard to change course, even when it’s clear our inclusivity efforts aren’t working.
Accessibility is at risk when we design for ourselves instead of for real users. Visual bias might lead to interfaces that assume full vision or fine motor control. False consensus tells us that what’s intuitive for us will be intuitive for everyone. Implicit bias causes entire groups to be overlooked in research and testing. And again, the sunk cost fallacy can stop teams from investing in necessary redesigns—just because too much has already been built.
Ask why something feels like the right approach—and whose perspectives might be missing.
Bias often hides in the moments we feel challenged. Pay attention to that resistance.
Bring in feedback from people with different backgrounds and experiences. Avoid the echo.
Bias checklists, inclusive heuristics, and edge-case personas can help surface blind spots.
Look at your past work. Who consistently benefits from your designs—and who doesn’t?
Make space for others to call out what you may be missing. And listen without defensiveness.
Fighting bias in design isn’t about eliminating it entirely—it’s about reducing its influence over time. That means building habits that help us question our defaults, not just relying on personal awareness. Bring in a mix of perspectives early. Test with a broader range of users. Pay attention when something feels “obvious”—it might not be to everyone. Use frameworks that challenge assumptions, and treat inclusive design as part of the core process, not a layer on top. Bias thrives in silence and speed. So slow down, ask better questions, and stay open to being wrong.
Bias will always shape how we see the world—but it doesn’t have to shape how we build it. By naming it, questioning it, and opening up space for more voices, we can design products that work better for more people. This is ongoing work. It takes reflection, curiosity, and collaboration. So the next time you hear “I wouldn’t want that,” pause and ask: who are we really designing for?
