Accessibility Shouldn’t Be a Shield for Poor Technology Design & Privacy Concerns
- The White Hatter
- 24 minutes ago
- 10 min read
Caveat - Recently, another digital literacy and internet safety advocate responded to one of our posts about smart glasses with a thoughtful question, “Being honest, no matter the worst of the worst tech innovation, you appear to support it. Please explain that position to me?”
We think this is a fair and important question, particularly given how often we discuss both the benefits and the very real risks associated with emerging technology. Our approach has never been about automatically supporting every new technology simply because it exists, and it is not about dismissing technology because it presents risks or can be misused. Instead, we believe in examining technology through the lens of evidence, context, purpose, design, and how it is actually being used.
So, rather than offering a quick response in the comments, we thought the question deserved a more thoughtful answer. Here is our position, and why we believe understanding both the opportunities and the risks of technology is essential to meaningful digital literacy and internet safety education when it comes to smart glasses, and other tech wearables, which spawned the above noted question.
As smart glasses, and other tech wearables, become more common there is an important part of the accessibility and privacy conversation that we believe parents, caregivers, educators, and schools need to consider. We have previously written about both sides of this emerging technology (1)(2). Camera equipped and AI enabled glasses can create legitimate concerns surrounding privacy, consent, recording, data collection, academic integrity, and safety. At the same time, these very same devices can provide meaningful benefits for people who are blind, have low vision, or live with other disabilities. A wearable camera connected to artificial intelligence can potentially read text, describe surroundings, identify objects, recognize products, interpret signs, and provide information about the environment that a sighted person may obtain without assistance. For some users, this is not simply a cool technological feature, it can provide greater independence and help remove barriers that exist in everyday life.
We believe those accessibility benefits are important, and they should absolutely be part of any conversation surrounding smart glasses. However, we also believe there is a danger when accessibility begins to be used, intentionally or unintentionally, as a broader justification for the proliferation of consumer technologies that introduce cameras, microphones, artificial intelligence, and data collection into increasingly ordinary human interactions. Supporting the legitimate use of assistive technology should not require us to stop asking difficult questions about the privacy implications of the underlying technology, particularly when the overwhelming majority of people purchasing these products may not be using them because of a disability related need.
There is an important distinction between technology being used to overcome a disability related barrier and millions of consumers being encouraged to wear cameras on their faces as part of everyday life. In an accessibility context, the technology may be serving a specific and legitimate purpose by helping someone participate more independently and equitably in an environment that might otherwise present barriers. That is very different from the widespread consumer adoption of wearable cameras where photographing, recording, live streaming, listening, or AI assisted observation can become an almost invisible part of everyday interactions. The glasses may look identical, and the technology inside them may be identical, but the purpose, context, necessity, and potential impact on the privacy and consent of others can be very different.
Ray-Ban Meta smart glasses, and the M02 Ai Smart Glasses, provide a good example of why we believe this distinction matters (3). Meta glasses were developed and marketed as a mainstream consumer wearable that could allow people to take photographs, capture first person video, listen to music, make calls, communicate, interact with artificial intelligence, and share aspects of their lives through Meta’s broader technology ecosystem. They were not originally conceived primarily as a specialized assistive device for people who are blind or have low vision. However, as the technology evolved, some of the capabilities built into the glasses became genuinely useful accessibility tools. A camera originally capable of capturing what the wearer sees can also provide visual information to an AI system that can describe that environment to someone who cannot see it. A microphone designed for calls and voice commands can also allow a blind user to ask questions about what is in front of them. A device created for a mass consumer market can therefore become extraordinarily useful to someone with a disability.
This does not diminish the importance of those accessibility benefits. In fact, we think it demonstrates one of the more positive possibilities of emerging technology. Mainstream consumer devices can sometimes provide accessibility capabilities without requiring a person with a disability to purchase expensive, highly specialized equipment. However, we should also be careful not to rewrite the history of these devices, or allow the companies that manufacture them to redefine their original purpose simply because meaningful accessibility applications were developed later (4). In many respects, the accessibility potential of mainstream smart glasses emerged from capabilities that were originally created for a much broader social consumer market. The technology may have become an accessibility tool for many, but accessibility was not the primary reason the technology was placed on millions of people’s faces in the first place.
We also have to be alive to the possibility that some of the biggest players in the technology space may try to pull the proverbial “okey-dokey,” reframing or repositioning a product after the fact in ways that make its original purpose, design, or business interests less obvious. When a technology later develops meaningful benefits, including important accessibility applications, those benefits should absolutely be recognized and supported. However, they should not be used to rewrite the product’s history, distract from legitimate privacy or safety concerns, or obscure why the technology was originally developed and brought to market. We can celebrate what a technology has become capable of doing while still critically examining what it was originally designed to do, who it was designed for, and whose interests its widespread adoption ultimately serves.
Why does this matter? Because when concerns are raised about wearable cameras, accessibility can quickly become part of the defence of the technology itself. Someone raises concerns about covert recording and the response becomes, “But blind people use these glasses.” Someone questions whether cameras should be permitted in certain environments and the conversation becomes, “But what about accessibility?” These are legitimate considerations, particularly when policies could interfere with a person’s disability related needs. However, accessibility should not become a conversation stopper that prevents us from examining whether the technology itself has been designed with sufficient privacy protections.
We also need to be careful about where this argument could eventually lead. If technology companies increasingly highlight people with disabilities when defending the social acceptance of camera equipped wearables, there is a risk that those same individuals could become unfairly associated with the harms that emerge as the technology becomes more widespread. Imagine smart glasses becoming commonplace in schools, workplaces, gyms, restaurants, stores, medical facilities, and other public and semi private environments. We have now seen real incidents involving secret recordings, voyeurism, bullying, harassment, academic cheating, unauthorized live streaming, or the collection and analysis of information about people who never knew a camera was pointed toward them. We do not want the resulting public conversation to become one where people are told that society must simply tolerate these risks because some individuals with disabilities legitimately benefit from the technology. That would place responsibility in entirely the wrong place.
A blind student using smart glasses to read a worksheet did not design the camera. A person with low vision using artificial intelligence to identify an object did not decide how visible a recording indicator should be. A person with a disability seeking greater independence did not determine what information is uploaded to corporate servers, how long that information might be retained, what data is used to improve artificial intelligence systems, how easily content can be shared, or what safeguards exist to prevent misuse. Those decisions are primarily made by the companies that design, manufacture, market, and operate these technologies. If there are weaknesses in privacy protections, recording indicators, data practices, or safety features, our scrutiny should be directed toward those design decisions rather than toward people who have found legitimate accessibility benefits in the technology.
This is why we believe parents, caregivers, and educators need to resist framing the smart glasses conversation as accessibility versus privacy. It does not have to be one or the other. Supporting accessibility does not require abandoning privacy, and protecting privacy does not require denying people with disabilities access to technology that can meaningfully increase independence. We can hold both ideas at the same time. In fact, good policy should be capable of doing exactly that.
This becomes particularly important in schools. A student who requires smart glasses as part of a disability related accommodation should not automatically be treated in the same way as a student wearing inexpensive camera glasses primarily to record content or interact with social media. The devices may appear similar, but the reasons for their use can be completely different. At the same time, providing an accommodation does not necessarily mean that every function of a device must be permitted everywhere and at all times. Schools already navigate these kinds of distinctions with many forms of assistive technology, and smart glasses should be approached with the same thoughtful consideration.
For example, a student may legitimately require AI enabled glasses to read classroom material, identify objects, or obtain information about their surroundings. That does not necessarily mean the device should be permitted to record unrestricted video in a change room, washroom, counselling office, or other environment where there is a heightened expectation of privacy. Similarly, a school may need to establish specific expectations surrounding the use of certain functions during examinations, private meetings, confidential conversations, or activities involving sensitive information. The goal should not be to remove the accommodation, the goal should be to determine how the accommodation can be provided while also reasonably protecting the privacy, dignity, and safety of others (3).
We believe this principle should extend beyond schools as well. Keep AI enabled recording and sensing technologies out of rooms and spaces where privacy should come first unless their use is genuinely necessary and appropriate. As cameras, microphones, smart glasses, and AI-powered wearables become smaller and increasingly difficult to distinguish from ordinary devices, clear boundaries become even more important. Washrooms, change rooms, counselling offices, medical spaces, and other sensitive or confidential environments should remain places where privacy, dignity, and consent receive heightened protection. Just because a device can capture, analyze, record, transmit, or interpret what is happening around us does not mean it should automatically be permitted to do so everywhere.
This is also why we believe the conversation needs to focus much more heavily on the architecture of the technology itself. Rather than asking only whether someone should be permitted to wear smart glasses, we should also be asking whether manufacturers have designed these devices responsibly. Can people nearby reasonably tell when a camera is recording? Are recording indicators sufficiently visible? Can those indicators be disabled or obscured? What information is being transmitted to remote servers? What happens to images processed by artificial intelligence? How long is information retained? Can people who never agreed to interact with the device become part of the data being analyzed? What safeguards exist against covert recording or other foreseeable misuse? Could accessibility functions be designed in ways that collect less information or provide greater protection for bystanders?
These are questions about product design, corporate responsibility, privacy by design, and safety by design. They should not be shifted onto people with disabilities simply because they have discovered that the same technology can help them navigate their world more independently.
There is also a larger lesson here for parents, caregivers, and educators. Emerging technology rarely fits neatly into categories of “good” or “bad.” The same camera that creates a privacy concern in one context can provide independence in another. The same artificial intelligence that can analyze someone without their knowledge can describe a classroom to a student who cannot see it. The same pair of glasses that could potentially be misused to secretly record another student could allow a blind student to read what their teacher has written on the board. Context matters, purpose matters, and how the technology has been designed and deployed matters.
This is why blanket approaches often fail to capture the complexity of emerging technology. Simply banning smart glasses can create legitimate accessibility barriers. Simply allowing them without restrictions can create legitimate privacy and consent concerns. Neither extreme requires us to think very deeply about the problem. The more difficult, but ultimately more responsible approach is to develop policies that distinguish between legitimate accessibility needs and general consumer use while establishing clear expectations about where, when, why, and how these technologies can be used.
As smart glasses and other AI enabled wearables continue to evolve, we believe accessibility needs to remain an important part of the conversation, but it should never become a shield that protects technology companies from legitimate scrutiny. If a company builds a product capable of discreetly capturing, analyzing, or transmitting information about the people around the wearer, that company should be expected to demonstrate how it is protecting the privacy and consent of those people. The fact that the product may also provide meaningful accessibility benefits does not remove that responsibility.
Most importantly, if privacy invasive wearable technologies eventually create significant harms, we need to be very careful about whom we hold responsible. People with disabilities who use these technologies to overcome barriers should not become scapegoats for design decisions they did not make. A blind person asking an AI system to describe what is in front of them is not responsible for the normalization of wearable cameras. A student using smart glasses as an accommodation is not responsible for how another student might misuse similar technology.
Accessibility should never become the scapegoat for poor technology design, and privacy should never become the excuse for denying someone meaningful access. We believe the better path is one that protects both. Accommodate legitimate disability related needs, establish reasonable boundaries around recording and data collection, protect spaces where there is a heightened expectation of privacy, educate students and adults about appropriate use, and hold technology companies accountable for designing products that anticipate foreseeable misuse.
The challenge is not choosing between accessibility and privacy. The challenge is ensuring that, as these technologies become increasingly embedded into everyday life, we refuse to sacrifice one in the name of the other and hold the companies developing these technologies accountable for their design.
Digital Food For Thought
The White Hatter
Facts Not Fear, Facts Not Emotions, Enlighten Not Frighten, Know Tech Not No Tech
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