Imagine a school playground. There’s a ball given at lunchtime, but only certain kids are allowed to play with it. One child speaks up:
“That’s not fair! Everyone should be able to play!”
Instead of addressing the rule, the teacher says
“You don’t need to talk like that. I won’t discuss this unless you calm down.”
An older student chimes in:
“If you want people to listen, you need to speak nicely. Tuck your shirt in. Brush your hair.”
Before they even get to talk about the unfair rule, the child is told to change themselves to be acceptable. They never get to play with the ball, or even discuss why they couldn’t.
They’re excluded from the game, and from the conversation about the system that kept them out. When we look at it like this, it’s easy to see what’s unfair. A random rule excluded a group of kids, and the moment one spoke up, the focus shifted to their tone. We, as readers, know the child’s reaction is reasonable. They just want fairness.
However when this happens in workplaces, especially in Accessibility work it’s not always as obvious.
What is tone policing though? Why is it an issue?
Tone policing happens when someone shifts the focus from what is being said to how it’s being said, usually by someone with more power. It’s a derailment tactic, instead of addressing the core issue, the listener comments on the speaker’s tone.
The original point is lost. The conversation is no longer about unfair rule or exclusion, it’s about whether the person sounded respectful enough.
Yes, respectful communication matters. However, is the objection about the content, or the tone?
Respectability politics and who defines “professional”
I’m still learning about how these ideas connect and where they come from. From what I understand so far, historian Evelyn Brooks Higginbotham wrote about “the politics of respectability” to describe how Black women navigated dominant social norms to be heard. Writer bell hooks built on this, explaining how emotion and anger are often dismissed as unprofessional to protect comfort and power.
I’ve also been reading about how similar patterns show up in disability activism. Writer Leah Lakshmi Piepzna-Samarasinha talks about how disabled people are often expected to be grateful and patient rather than assertive.
There are definitely many more activists, writers, and thinkers whose work has shaped these ideas. I know I’ve only scratched the surface.
How does respectability politics appear in Accessibility work?
In Accessibility discussions, tone policing can be a way to avoid talking about the actual standards, technical requirements, and practices.
Instead of engaging with how to meet how to meet WCAG criteria or remediate an access barrier, the conversation gets sidetracked into how the concern was raised. For example, criticised for putting the concern in writing, for labelling something as a blocker. For proving too much detail.
The result is no technical progress, no rule change, no improved access, just a focus on the delivery or the messaging.
- An autistic employee is told to “be more friendly and chatty” in emails about Accessibility issues, despite their clear, efficient writing.
- A consultant is asked to “tone down” their recommendations so they don’t “upset” developers or make them feel criticised.
- A disabled employee raises an Accessibility issue in a direct way. Instead of addressing the barrier, a manager says, “If you want senior leadership to take this seriously, you need to adjust your influence style.”
- A wheelchair user is told their advocacy will be taken more seriously if they “dress smarter” for meetings, even though their clothes are perfectly appropriate.
The result? No technical progress. No fix. Just a focus on delivery over impact.
Let me give a simple example
I provided some Accessibility feedback to a open-source Design System as part of a wider experiment, the issue got closed without any action with the following:
“Thanks for the feedback, we are all passionate about accessibility and it sounds like some of that passion is boiling over. Due to the direction this conversation might go in, I’m going to lock this issue. Have a nice day.”
Let’s unpick this a little…
The responder treats “passion” as the problem rather than focusing the detail of an actual accessibility issue that a disabled user may face. The shift pays more attention to how it was said it than what was said..
By saying the conversation might be “going in the wrong direction” and locking it, they make it sound polite, but it’s really a way to shut things down. The “thanks for the feedback” and “have a nice day” tone is a no-action signal.
Using formal or procedural language like “locking this issue” makes it sound neutral, but it’s really about keeping control and stopping the conversation from continuing. People working in accessibility are often required stay calm, polite, and grateful, even when faced with ongoing barriers. Showing emotion is seen as unprofessional, but the lack of accessibility never quite gets judged the same way.
This is a fairly mild example, but a useful one to demonstrate this system at play. It would be lovely to focus purely on the technicals but this often shifts into tackling the derailment.
(Please don’t direct any criticism at the individuals involved, it’s simply a public example that I can easily reference that illustrates how this kind of system happens).
Obstruction tactics - weaponised incompetence
Tone policing rarely stands alone. It’s often joined by other tactics that block progress:
- Weaponised incompetence, claiming not to know how to do something simple, like writing alt text, to shift responsibility. Asking for training as a way to obstruct.
- Sometimes a company has a “hot potato” culture, basically “it’s not my job”.
- Silence, ignoring feedback altogether.
- Logical fallacies – “everyone else does it, so it must be fine.”
Each tactic adds emotional labour for the people trying to fix real problems. They spend more time convincing others the work matters than doing the work itself.
The emotional toll
Accessibility advocates often burn out not from the work itself, but from the effort required to get permission to do it. That came to my attention in Axe Con 2023 The Accessibility to Burnout Pipeline.
Imagine if a security team reported a major breach and were told to first justify why security matters, run a training session on cybersecurity history, then debate whether it’s worth fixing. That’s what accessibility teams experience daily.
The hierarchy of power, this is when this starts to get complicated
In most workplaces and communities, power isn’t shared equally. Some people have more influence or authority than others, and those layers of power often overlap and reinforce each other. This is sometimes called intersectionality, a term coined by Kimberlé Crenshaw to describe how systems like race, gender and class combine to shape people’s experiences. Disability often sits, broadly speaking, at the lower end of this hierarchy. Power can shift up and down, someone who faces barriers in one area may still draw on advantages in another to dismiss or overlook accessibility concerns raised.
“It is no longer acceptable to not have women at the table. It is no longer acceptable to not have people of color at the table. But no one thinks to see if the table is accessible”. - Judith Heumann
When someone points out an unfair barrier, the person with more power may use another type of privilege to discredit them. For example:
- A colleague from Germany points out an error and is labelled “aggressive” so their point is ignored.
- Someone from a different social or economic background is told to “speak more professionally” before their concern will be taken seriously, using their accent or appearance as a barrier.
- A blind male colleague points out that a project isn’t accessible. Instead of addressing the issue, a team member accuses him of being “condescending” using gender dynamics to shift attention away from the ableism he’s describing.
In each case, the focus moves from the issue itself to the person raising it. The system stays intact because the problem never actually gets addressed.
What can you do?
Being aware of these invisible, complicated systems of power is the first step. But awareness alone isn’t enough, here’s what you can do:
- Before commenting on someone’s tone, ask: “Am I avoiding the actual issue?”
- Respond to the Accessibility barrier, details or suggestion directly, focusing on the content rather than delivery.
- Remember, directness and disrespect are different. Ensure retros, where a team reflects on what went well, what could be improved, and how to adapt their processes for future to address issues are in place.
- Build transparency into process. Encourage open reporting, public tracking, and accountability structures. If there’s a normal process to highlight issues, it’s normalised.
- When tone policing appears, name it calmly and redirect back to the issue.
- Being aware of the theory and academia is one thing, but the system is the system. If tone is still weaponised. It’s important to develop strategies to navigate and challenge this dynamic. Framing emotion with purpose, balancing evidence with feeling, redirecting tone-based comments towards substance, communicating with agility across contexts, and building support that help refocus dialogue.
The takeaway
Tone policing might look polite, but it quietly protects the status quo and obstructs Accessibility work, it’s how exclusion sustains itself.
When we focus on what’s being said, not how it’s said, we create the conditions for genuine inclusion.
Everyone gets to play.