Inclusive Design:
In Conversation with Tim Wilson
23.06.26

Tim Wilson is Co-founder and Director of Melbourne and Northern NSW-based Folk Architects – a practice working across residential, civic and commercial projects with a focus on sustainable and inclusive design. Educated in Architecture and Construction Management, Tim’s career spans local and international practice, including Denton Corker Marshall in London, Gabriel Poole Architects on the Sunshine Coast, and Rossetti Architects in Melbourne. Grounded in the belief that the built environment should be accessible and responsive to the diverse needs of those who inhabit it, Folk Architects is distinguished by its people-centred approach to design.

Here, Hayley Tillett, Editor at NHO, speaks with Tim about design’s capacity to support diversity through inclusive practice – an approach informed not only by his architectural work, but through lived experience.

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HT: Welcome, Tim. Inclusive design sits at the heart of Folk Architects‘ work today. How did that focus emerge?

TW: Thanks Hayley. As a practice, we believe that good architecture and design should contribute to and improve the daily lives of its users. The reason we called ourselves Folk wasn’t in reference to us; it’s about working collectively and placing people and the environment at the centre of every decision. Our understanding of inclusive design has evolved by broadening our understanding of the human experience and acknowledging that diversity and difference are facts of life that should be celebrated.

My daughter Alfie has, in part, informed this attitude. Alfie is a wheelchair user, non-verbal and lives with multiple medical conditions. But Alfie is far more than a diagnosis – she is a cheeky, unique, and intelligent little girl who teaches us daily what it means to be truly inclusive. Alfie’s disabilities are most noticeable not at home but when we leave the house, when we encounter the many ways spaces fail to accommodate her needs. These lived experiences have expanded our design thinking, highlighting the importance of removing barriers and embracing opportunities that celebrate difference.

HT: You mentioned a shift from designing for disability to designing for different abilities and human experiences. Why is that distinction important to you?

TW: The distinction is important because language shapes how we think about inclusion. ‘Designing for disability’ can unintentionally create an ‘us versus them’ dynamic, separating disability from the broader human experience. By contrast, ‘designing for different abilities and human experiences’ acknowledges diversity as part of life and recognises that our needs change over time.

My lived experiences with Alfie have reinforced this perspective. They’ve challenged us to think less about accommodating a specific group of people and more about removing barriers and creating environments that support a wider range of experiences. I saw a quote recently that sums up our approach quite nicely: “People feel included when they are seen for who they are, not judged for how they are different.”

HT: Inclusivity is often discussed through the lens of accessibility and compliance. What does it mean to you in broader terms?

TW: Framing inclusion purely as a compliance or legal issue is problematic because it immediately sets up a framework of “other”. It can be seen everywhere: the wheelchair entrance tucked around the back, the accessible amenities that are hard to find and feel like an afterthought. That kind of thinking separates rather than includes.

As architects, we notice this pattern play out in the design process too. Accessibility is so often considered only once a design is well advanced, which means ramps get retrofitted, surfaces get refinished for visual contrast, and pathways get widened — all at considerable expense, and all because inclusion wasn’t part of the conversation from the start. It limits participation for people with diverse needs, and it represents a real missed opportunity.

The broader definition of inclusion must begin with a simple but important acknowledgement: disability affects all of us. Statistically, at some point in our lives, we will all experience disability — directly or indirectly. One in five Australians lives with a disability, whether physical, mental, intellectual, or sensory. It’s not a niche consideration; it’s a universal one. For us as designers, that means actively engaging with people who have lived experience and approaching our work with a genuine recognition of our shared vulnerability and humanity.

HT: How does this thinking translate into Folk Architects’ residential work?

TW: Starting from a point of enquiry around accessibility and flexibility is essential to the way we work. Our projects seek to address both permanent and temporary needs – from people living with a disability, to those experiencing short-term injury or impairment, to anticipating age-related change. We apply this thinking even when inclusivity isn’t central to the brief.

Two clients we’ve worked with recently in Byron Bay are normally able-bodied but currently incapacitated – one is an elite athlete who’s torn a muscle, and the other is a beekeeper who’s injured and unable to walk. Neither live with a disability, but their homes were designed to accommodate that as a possibility from the outset.

Accessible ground-floor bathrooms, for example, proved invaluable in their time of need – and importantly, were no more expensive or visually different from a standard bathroom. Elements such as handrails support access requirements, but they’re also design features in their own right – flexible in use and integrated into the architecture.

All our residential projects are designed to support changing patterns of living and care, with flexible arrangements that can accommodate carers, provide independent living spaces, or combine into a larger home as needs evolve. It requires a little more thought in the master planning stage, but the benefits are significant.

HT: Not every client comes to you seeking an inclusive design outcome. How do you introduce these conversations and build support for them?

TW: We often instigate these conversations and considerations because people don’t typically think about the potential of design to improve accessibility or support them ageing in place. At times, there’s resistance because it addresses human vulnerability, which is sometimes framed in deficit language.

Sharing my lived experience with Alfie often invites others to reflect on their own experiences and imagine how inclusive design might support their lives as well. Most people can connect with the concept of designing for flexibility and see value in this by reflecting on the needs of their own parents or children.

HT: Where do you see the greatest barriers to inclusion today: in private environments or public space?

TW: Working with institutions, there can be an assumption at the outset: “This is going to be expensive, but we have to do it,” rather than being driven by genuine care for the users. What often gets overlooked is that inclusive design benefits more people than we realise. It’s not about accommodating a niche group; it’s about recognising the diversity of human experience and creating environments that support broader participation. When viewed through that lens, inclusion becomes an opportunity rather than a constraint.

HT: How has inclusive design changed the way you engage with users, communities and collaborators throughout the design process?

TW: The ongoing dialogue with user groups and communities has challenged us to think beyond access standards and compliance — and that shift in thinking applies across everything we work on, whether it’s a private home, a commercial development, or a civic space.

It’s a reminder that inclusion is about much more than the physical. The sensory qualities of a space—its light, sound, smell, and texture—matter just as much as its physical accessibility. How a space feels has a profound effect on whether people feel genuinely welcome and at ease within it.

HT: The Changing Places and Parenting Rooms facility at Melbourne Convention and Exhibition Centre has become an important example of inclusive public infrastructure. What did that project teach you about designing with, rather than simply for, diverse user groups?

TW: That project gave us some valuable insights about the importance of lived experience in the design process, and about how making inclusion a primary design driver from the outset leads to genuinely better outcomes.

At the beginning of the project, we ran a series of workshops and questionnaires, gathering feedback from people with disability, their support networks, and therapists. One message came through consistently: the space needed to feel warm and inviting, not clinical. As a parent of a child with complex needs and having spent more time than I’d like in hospital environments, that sentiment resonated with me deeply.

Since completion, the feedback from user groups has been overwhelmingly positive. For me, that’s a testament to what happens when you bring people with lived experience into the process from the very start — they don’t just inform the design, they develop a sense of ownership over it, and that makes all the difference.

HT: Looking ahead, what responsibility do architects and designers have in addressing inequality, and where do you see the greatest opportunity for change?

TW: Architects and designers are, at their core, problem solvers. Yet inclusive design is too often treated as an add-on, resulting in solutions that feel medicalised or separate from the broader design intent. This reinforces the misconception that designing for inclusivity is aesthetically restrictive, when in reality it can be seamlessly and creatively addressed.

There is a growing need for education and awareness – not only around physical accessibility, but also neurodiversity, sensory experience and the diverse ways people engage with space. Architecture has the capacity to do more than remove barriers; it can help make difference a visible and accepted part of everyday life. In that sense, one of the most powerful outcomes of inclusive design is its ability to shape attitudes as well as environments.

For me, the greatest opportunity for change lies within public and civic spaces. By creating environments where people of all ages, abilities and backgrounds feel welcome, we can encourage participation, challenge perceptions and create communities where people have the freedom to move through the world as they choose, with the confidence of knowing they belong.

HT: Thanks, Tim.

TW: Thanks, Hayley