My Friend Couldn't Register For Your Event Without Help
Plain language summary
Some people learn better from hearing stories than just listening to facts and theory. I want people to understand that website accessibility is important, so I tell a story about my friend, who has a learning disability. He couldn't complete a task because of an inaccessible website.
Why I'm writing this
As a digital accessibility practitioner, I'm constantly telling people that accessibility is the ethical thing to do. It's hard to grasp what kind of consequences actually play out in the real world, beyond just the theoretical principles that underpin my profession. So here's a story.
Part 1: The Set-Up
My friend was sent an email with a link telling him to register for an event. The link was labelled, 'register!'
On the webpage that followed was a page with a very complex sign-up process. While there was a button that said 'register' on it, clicking it did nothing and there was no directions or advice as to why it did not work.
In order to get the button to work, you first had to add a ticket to your cart by changing the quantity of the kind of ticket you wanted from 0 to 1.
However, the part of the web interface that showed the quantity was partially cut off on mobile and nearly impossible to read.
Part 2: My Friend Tries to Register
He clicks the button. Getting no negative feedback, he assumes he has successfully registered.
But just double checking, he goes back to the email, and clicks the link again. Register.
This must mean he's registered right? It doesn't look like there's any more buttons to press.
Maybe the website can tell he registered because he clicked the link from his personal email.
A nagging feeling. He sends an email back to the project coordinator. I'm registered, he says.
No you didn't, is the response he gets.
Ok. He clicks the link more deliberately this time. He goes to the 'register' button on the website, and clicks it with even more intention.
He takes a deep breath.
Just in case, he decides to check with me the next time we meet up.
Part 3: I Register For My Friend
He says, Chelsea, I was having some trouble registering for that event on the 22nd. Could you maybe show me how you did it?
When my friend tells me this, I have a feeling that I understand what went wrong. I too had been slightly bamboozled at the need to add a ticket to the cart when no instructions directed the user to do so.
But when I pull up the interface on my phone and see the obscured 'quantity' slider, I'm totally blown away.
I try to tap it. Yeah, no.
My quick fix is to put the phone into landscape mode so the viewport expands and I can actually click on the button. My friend and I walk through the application together. He inputs his email. I press, 'send.'
What happened here?
There were several things going wrong with this webpage. In WCAG terms, we can describe cascading failures of SC 3.3.2 Labels or Instructions, SC 3.3.1 Error Identification, and SC 3.3.3 Error Suggestion, all compounded by one crucial failure of SC 1.4.10 Reflow.
In more human terms, there should have been instructions. There should have been an error message that popped up when he clicked the button and the button couldn't submit. There should have been a prompt to help him correct the error. Finally, the quantity field for the tickets should have not been obscured on mobile.
SC 3.3.2, SC 3.3.1, and SC 3.3.3 were all developed in order to facilitate accessibility for people with cognitive disabilities. Had they been met, my friend, who has a cognitive disability, would likely have been able to register for himself.
But they weren't met.
