The recent 2026 WebAIM Million report showed that across the top 1,000,000 websites, the number of distinct accessibility errors detected by WAVE rose from 51 in the 2025 report to 56.1. Despite an increase in interest and the tireless efforts of digital accessibility professionals all over the world, the data indicate that the web is less accessible than it was a year ago.
It is disheartening to acknowledge such a significant setback from hard-won progress, but I’m hopeful this can also be an opportunity to consider what we might do differently going forward. The hardest thing for me about the latest report is the reminder that we live in a world where it remains broadly acceptable (or at least tolerable) that the top one million home pages average 56.1 potential barriers for a specific group of people. Why is widespread inaccessibility still acceptable for disabled users?
I have felt unsettled recently by the adage, “Every system is perfectly designed to get the results it gets.” The lack of digital accessibility is the result of a system that was clearly not designed to prioritize accessibility. That said, how do we impact systemic change, and what “system” are we even talking about?
There is important work already underway to incorporate accessibility more into processes related to training, purchasing practices, hiring processes, technical standards, and policy. This work is essential, but why is accessibility missing from so many of those systems in the first place?
Digital inaccessibility is often framed as an awareness, technical, training, or legal problem—and it is all of those things. But that is only part of the story; accessibility barriers persist not only because of these challenges, but also because their impact on disabled users remains easy for so many organizations to overlook.
There is ample evidence of people with disabilities being treated differently than people without disabilities in employment, education, housing, and healthcare. Findings from the WebAIM Million project are consistent with broader societal patterns where accessibility is too often ranked below so many other competing priorities.
Where Do We Go From Here?
Approaching accessibility from a disability rights framework is not new, but it is important to remember that the work we are doing as digital accessibility practitioners is part of a much larger movement that has been doing this work for a very long time. There are so many people and organizations doing incredible work to break down barriers in other areas that we can work with and learn from.
It is incredibly frustrating to see the same set of common issues persist year after year, when so many proven technical solutions are readily available. When we recognize that web accessibility is not only a technical challenge, we can explore new ways to address the cultural, organizational, and moral forces that allow barriers to persist. Consider for example:
- What can we learn from groups like ADAPT and their fight for accessible transportation?
- How did the disability rights community organize, and what key events led to the passage of the Rehabilitation Act of 1973? What happened from there to lay the groundwork for the Americans with Disabilities Act?
- What are the top priorities of disability advocacy organizations today?
Change can happen, but moving beyond the status quo of inaccessibility tolerance will require broader and more human-centered approaches. The work required for this type of change is different, messier, and often doesn’t yield immediate results—but consider what it would look like to do digital accessibility work in a world that no longer tolerates inaccessibility. That is something to get excited about!

Good piece. Another important area I believe, which you hint at is mind shifts. I think once a person’s mind shifts to accessibility first, they run with it and try to make it part of their work ethic. How do we then effect a mindshifts?
As someone working in IT for over 25 years, and volunteering alongside that time in a group that refurbishes donated computers for people with disabilities, I feel compelled to point out a massive blind spot in the accessibility discussion.
My work focuses specifically on helping two groups: people who struggle with precise pointer control, and people with visual impairments who rely heavily on text-to-speech. I build helper tools, browser add-ons, and even hardware integrations to make digital environments usable for them. In recent years, advances in TTS and AI have been an absolute breakthrough.
But there is one obstacle that consistently undermines all of this progress, and strangely, it’s almost never treated as a serious accessibility issue:
Cookie consent pop-ups.
These things are everywhere, they come in wildly inconsistent forms, and they are often aggressively designed to demand attention. Different layouts, different wording, different button labels, unpredictable placement, sometimes covering half the screen, sometimes blocking the entire page until the user “complies.”
For an average user, it’s already annoying. But for someone who needs 10–15 seconds to carefully move a pointer and click a button, it’s not a nuisance, it’s a barrier. A repeated, unavoidable, time-consuming barrier on virtually every new site visit.
And yet, accessibility audits obsess over contrast ratios or button spacing while completely ignoring this massive, systemic friction point that affects billions of interactions every single day.
If we are serious about accessibility, this cannot be ignored.
At the very least, these consent dialogs should be standardized: consistent structure, consistent placement, consistent interaction model. Even better: there should be a browser- or OS-level global consent mechanism, where a user can define their preference once (accept/reject categories for a defined period), and websites are required to respect it without interrupting the user experience.
Right now, this silly cookie-law and its implementations are not just ineffective, it is actively hostile to accessibility.
We can do better. But it likely requires not just guidelines, but regulation that actually considers real-world usability instead of checkbox compliance.