Microaggressions and accessibility in business

The phrase slipped out during a team meeting: “Well, we all know Sarah needs extra time for everything.” The speaker meant it as helpful context. Sarah, who uses a screen reader, heard it as a label that would stick.

Microaggressions in accessibility aren’t always obvious. They’re the small comments, assumptions, and behaviours that chip away at inclusion even when nobody means harm. For business leaders thinking about accessibility, these moments matter more than you might realize. They’re the difference between having accessible systems and actually being an accessible workplace.

What microaggressions look like in practice

Microaggressions around disability often disguise themselves as concern or praise. “You’re so inspiring just for coming to work” sounds positive until you realize it assumes that people with disabilities doing normal things is remarkable. “I could never handle what you deal with” centres the speaker’s feelings rather than treating the person as simply competent.

Some microaggressions are questions that wouldn’t be asked of non-disabled colleagues. “Are you sure you can handle this project?” implies doubt before the work even begins. “Have you tried [unsolicited medical advice]?” assumes the person hasn’t thought deeply about their own life. “You don’t look disabled” suggests there’s a correct way to appear that validates someone’s experience.

Others show up in how we structure work itself. Scheduling important meetings in inaccessible rooms sends a message about who belongs in key decisions. Treating accommodation requests as personal favours rather than professional necessities suggests disability is an imposition. Praising someone excessively for participating in regular work activities marks them as different.

Why these moments compound

A single microaggression might seem minor. Cumulatively, they create an environment where disabled employees spend energy managing others’ perceptions instead of doing their jobs. Research from the Center for Talent Innovation found that employees who experience regular microaggressions are three times more likely to be disengaged at work.

For small businesses, this matters practically. If you’re working to build an accessible website or implement accessible systems, but your workplace culture is full of these small cuts, you’re undermining your own efforts. Accessibility isn’t just about ramps and screen readers. It’s about whether people feel they can show up as themselves.

Moving beyond good intentions

Most microaggressions come from people who consider themselves supportive. That’s what makes them tricky. Good intentions don’t prevent harm, and pointing out the impact often gets met with defensiveness. “I didn’t mean it that way” might be true, but it doesn’t change what was received.

The shift starts with listening more than explaining. When someone says a comment or action was harmful, the productive response is curiosity, not justification. What did they experience? What would be more helpful? How can you do better next time?

It continues with examining assumptions. Before speaking, pause and ask yourself: Am I treating this person as competent? Am I making assumptions about their capabilities or experience? Would I say this to any colleague, or only because they’re disabled? Is this question or comment actually necessary?

Building different habits

Creating a workplace that minimizes microaggressions requires ongoing attention, not a one-time training. It means normalizing disability in how you talk about work. When discussing project timelines, build in flexibility for everyone rather than treating accommodations as exceptions. When someone needs a different approach, treat it as useful information about how to work well together, not a problem to solve.

It means addressing microaggressions when you witness them, even when it’s uncomfortable. If a colleague makes an assumption or asks an inappropriate question, you can redirect: “Let’s focus on the project requirements,” or “I don’t think that’s relevant to the work.” You don’t need to lecture. You just need to interrupt the pattern.

It means recognizing that disabled employees aren’t responsible for educating everyone else. Yes, open communication matters. But learning basic disability etiquette is work non-disabled people should do independently. Your disabled colleagues are there to contribute their professional expertise, not to be your accessibility consultant unless that’s literally their job.

The business case is human

Some articles about accessibility microaggressions focus on productivity metrics and retention costs. Those matter, but they shouldn’t be the only reason to care. People deserve to work in environments where they’re not constantly navigating others’ biases and assumptions. That’s not a business case. That’s baseline respect.

For businesses building accessible systems and websites, internal culture and external products should align. You can’t genuinely serve disabled customers while treating disabled employees as problems to manage. The same mindset that creates excellent accessible design also prevents microaggressions: seeing disability as normal human variation, not a deficit.

The work is never finished. You’ll make mistakes. Everyone does. What matters is what happens next: whether you listen, adjust, and keep learning. Whether you build a workplace where people spend their energy on meaningful work instead of managing your perceptions. Whether accessibility becomes woven into how you operate, not just what you claim to value.