Most products are built for an imagined average user. Someone with good eyesight, steady hands, full attention, a fast connection and no particular reason to struggle. That person does not exist. They are a statistical convenience, and designing for them quietly leaves a lot of real people out.
Start at the edges instead
Design for the people at the edges, the ones who read differently, focus differently, cannot use a mouse, or are trying to get something done on a cracked phone on a moving train, and something useful happens. The thing gets clearer and easier for everyone, including the average user who never existed.
Bigger tap targets help people with tremors and people in a hurry. Clear language helps people with dyslexia, people reading in a second language, and people who are simply tired. Captions help deaf users and anyone in a noisy room. Accessibility improvements are rarely narrow. They tend to lift the whole experience.
This is the whole idea behind the NDC
It is why the Neurodiversity Design Council exists, and why every assessor there is neurodivergent. They are not guessing at the experience of a brain that works differently. They have it, so they catch the things a neurotypical tester walks straight past: the animation that derails focus, the instruction that assumes a kind of memory not everyone has, the layout that reads as noise.
Not charity, just order
The mistake is to file inclusive design under kindness, a nice-to-have you reach if there is budget left. It is not that. It is design done in the right order, edges first, and it produces better products for a wider set of people at roughly the same cost. The only thing it really asks is that you stop designing for someone who was never real. It is what our accessibility and neurodiversity audits look for, edges first.