Throughout my earlier research, I examined a range of accessibility initiatives already being used within airports, including sensory rooms, quiet spaces, familiarisation programmes, visual guides, Hidden Disabilities Sunflower schemes and staff support. This gave me a broad understanding of what is currently available, but I wanted to look more closely at airports that appeared to be going further than simply providing basic assistance.
Two examples particularly stood out to me: Singapore Changi Airport and Gold Coast Airport in Australia. They interested me for different reasons. Changi appears to focus strongly on creating a physical environment where passengers can regulate away from the main terminal, while Gold Coast places considerable emphasis on preparation, information and familiarisation. Looking at them more critically also raised questions about whether these initiatives provide autistic travellers with enough individual control and how effective they remain when a real journey becomes unpredictable.
Changi Airport’s Calm Room in Terminal 2 takes an environmental approach to supporting passengers with invisible disabilities. Rather than providing a single generic quiet room, the space contains four different zones intended to accommodate different sensory needs.
One area, known as The Forest, uses projections of greenery, nature sounds and different seating options to create an environment separated from the atmosphere of the main terminal. Information and virtual assistance are also available within the space. What initially interested me about the Calm Room was the recognition that regulation might require more than simply providing somewhere to sit. The different zones appear to acknowledge that passengers may have different sensory requirements.
This connects strongly with my previous research into varying support needs. There is no single sensory environment that will necessarily feel calming to every autistic person. A passenger who benefits from visual stimulation or nature sounds may have completely different requirements from somebody who needs very little sound, movement or visual information.
This also connects to my own experience travelling and attending autism-friendly environments with my autistic sister. I have previously experienced situations where an environment designed to accommodate autistic people became difficult for her because the people using the space had very different sensory and communication needs. Something that helps one person regulate can unintentionally become another person's source of sensory overload.
I cannot assume that the same problem occurs within Changi's Calm Room, but it makes me question how effectively a shared sensory environment can accommodate conflicting sensory needs and how much individual control passengers have once they are inside it.
This question becomes particularly interesting when compared with my primary research. One questionnaire participant commented:
“The sunflower lounges are often still quite open and loud and not tailored to autistic people/sensory needs.”
This challenges the assumption that simply removing someone from the main terminal automatically creates an accessible sensory environment. A lounge is still a shared environment. Other passengers may talk, move around or regulate themselves in ways that produce sound or movement. The physical connection to the airport can also mean that some of the wider sensory environment remains present.
Importantly, this is not a criticism of people who require different forms of regulation. Instead, it highlights the difficulty of designing one shared environment for people whose sensory requirements can be very different.
This makes Changi's use of multiple zones particularly interesting, but it also raises a larger design question for me. Rather than trying to create one universally “calm” environment, could accessibility provide passengers with greater ability to control their own immediate sensory experience within a shared space?
An early thought emerging from this is whether optional technologies such as noise-cancelling headphones or immersive/VR headsets could provide another layer of individual control within spaces that airports already have. A passenger might use the room alone, headphones alone, or additional visual isolation depending on what they personally require. At this stage, I do not want to assume that VR is the solution, but the principle of adding individual control to a shared environment feels worth carrying forward.
There may also be a secondary benefit for parents, carers or travelling companions. From my own experience, I know that there can sometimes be an awareness of other people when somebody you are travelling with needs to regulate in a noticeable way. A space designed around the expectation that people will regulate differently could potentially reduce some of that social pressure. This is a personal observation rather than something I can establish from the Changi example itself, but it is something I would be interested in exploring further through design testing.
Gold Coast Airport stood out to me for a different reason. Rather than focusing primarily on a dedicated physical environment, the airport provides a substantial amount of information intended to help autistic passengers understand and prepare for the airport journey.