Every website takes accessibility seriously. And every website that takes accessibility seriously has an accessibility statement. And almost none of them are worth reading.
The accessibility statement is a page that exists somewhere in the footer, sandwiched between the Privacy Policy and the Cookies, two pages not worth reading either. Not because they're not important, but because all three are written in the same tone as a complicated legally-binding terms of service.
Why should it be this way?
Let's start with the basic requirements. What are you supposed to put in an accessibility statement?
Most accessibility statements follow a template. And yes, most people use a generator to write them. The W3C even has an official one. You fill in your organisation name, pick your standard (usually WCAG 2.2, Level AA), answer some questions about your conformance status and it spits out something that sounds like this:
... So and so is committed to ensuring digital accessibility for people with disabilities. We continually improve the user experience for everyone and apply the relevant accessibility standards.
You've read that before. Or something exactly like it. It washes over you.
It's important to note though that the standard statement covers a few core things:
- Conformance status. Are you fully conformant, partially conformant, or non-conformant with WCAG? If you're honest, you put in partially conformant.
- Known issues. A list of things that don't work yet. Usually vague and often out of date.
- How you checked. Self-evaluation, third-party audit, automated testing. Whatever you did or claim to have done.
- Workarounds. If something's broken, is there another way to get the same content or task done?
- Contact information. Where someone can report a problem or ask for help.
- Date. When was this last reviewed. If it says 2019, you already know something's not right.
That's it. That's the structure. The problem isn't the structure. The structure is fine. The problem is the voice.
If you used a generator and hit publish, it reads like nobody wrote the thing. Hey, at least you're covered legally right?!
But think about who reads your accessibility statement. It's rarely a lawyer. It's a normal person who needs to know what to expect. They're not reading your statement to admire your WCAG compliance table. They're reading it to find out if you care.
It's such a shame when what they usually find is useless boilerplate. "Your call is very important to us." Yeah, right!
What can you do instead?
By all means, use a generator. Just don't publish what it spits out. Use it for the structure. Then, write like a human. For a human. Write for someone who's tired after a long day and can't deal with legal terms. Write for someone with a short attention span and can't focus on gigantic blobs of text. Write for someone whose kid screams next door and needs to quickly scan the page. Write it like you'd tell a friend about it.
That means you use plain language. WCAG 2.2 Level AA is jargon. You don't have to avoid it, but explain it in plain terms alongside it.
It means you're specific about what's broken. "Some images may lack alternative text" is vague. "Our product photography doesn't have alt text yet. We're working through a backlog of about 400 images and expect to finish by Q3" is honest. At least more honest.
Most organisations want to be accessible. Most organisations aren't fully there yet. That's okay. It's not outrageous and certainly not a cause to hide things. Saying "we're not there yet, here's where we're falling short, here's what we're doing about it" is more trustworthy than claiming commitment without evidence.
And please, don't forget to review it now and again. Not just update the date on it. Show what real changes you made since last updating it. If you have a changelog that tracks the changes you made to the accessibility statement over time, that's worth something.
No legalese. No vague commitments. No passive voice doing the work of avoiding accountability.
An accessibility statement is a document that almost everyone writes badly because they write it with the wrong audience in mind. The moment you write it for people who need it, not an auditor or some lawyer, it gets a lot easier. Words flow more naturally. They're words you use every day, so why shouldn't they?
You're not promising perfection. You're being honest about where you are, what's broken, what you're doing about it and how they can reach you if they need something.
I prefer honest. I like honest. Honest is readable.
If I'm being honest, I haven't reviewed my accessibility statement since mid-2024. Not much has changed since on my website, so maybe that's okay?
How often should you update it anyway?
I'll get into that tomorrow.