Here’s the thing about culture:
It isn’t defined by documentation.
It’s shaped by what people actually do – especially when no one’s watching.
And those behaviors spread.
When one person consistently asks, “Is this accessible?” it starts showing up in the team’s language.
When a developer shares a clean fix for keyboard navigation, others start copying it.
When someone shows that accessibility matters – not just once, but every time – the team starts to believe it, too.
That’s how accessibility culture grows: quietly, steadily, through visible, repeated actions.
But erosion spreads the same way.
When someone rolls their eyes at the word “inclusive,” it ripples outward.
When a manager quietly deprioritizes accessibility for the fifth sprint in a row, it becomes normal.
When no one pushes back on a shortcut, it stops feeling like a compromise and starts feeling like the standard.
Culture is contagious.
But so is apathy.
Sometimes it only takes one voice to shift the tone of a room.
It could be a dev who casually dismisses accessibility as a hassle.
Or a leader who praises speed over quality, even when it leaves users behind.
Or a teammate who stays quiet, even when they know better.
But sometimes, it only takes one voice to shift it back.
A designer who refuses to ship something broken.
A PM who protects accessibility from the backlog shuffle.
A leader who says, “This matters. Build it in.”
Culture isn’t fixed. It moves with the people in the room.
So ask yourself:
Which way is your team leaning right now?
And how do you keep the ones doing the heavy lifting from burning out?
That’s next.