Beyond Convenience: How a Simple Shaver Reveals the Power of Inclusive Design

In the vast sea of online product reviews, amidst the usual comments on battery life and performance, a story occasionally emerges that stops you in your tracks. It’s a story about human dignity. Catherine Vessey, reviewing the SHPAVVER MS-687 head shaver, wrote about her 84-year-old husband who has tremors. She described how this device, unlike the razors he struggled with, was “easy for him to shave his own head.” She writes, “In the past he used a regular razor on his head and it took so much time… It’s easy to grip and cleaning is fast.”

This is not a review about a close shave. It’s a review about independence. It’s a powerful testament to a design philosophy that is quietly changing the world for the better, often without us even noticing: Inclusive Design. For most users, an easy-to-grip handle is a minor convenience. For Catherine’s husband, it’s the difference between self-reliance and dependence.

Deconstructing Dignity: The Anatomy of an Accessible Tool

What was it about this specific shaver that made it an empowering tool? The answer isn’t a single revolutionary feature, but a convergence of thoughtful ergonomic choices that reduce physical and cognitive strain.

First, the ergonomic form. The handle is designed to fit securely in the palm, not just be pinched by the fingers. This provides a larger, more stable gripping surface, which is critical for someone with tremors as it helps dampen involuntary movements. Second, the large cutting surface. The seven-head design means more area is covered with each pass, reducing the total time and fine motor control required to complete the shave. Finally, the magnetic head. For someone whose hands shake, the fiddly, precise action of aligning and snapping small plastic clips can be an insurmountable barrier. A magnetic connection requires only proximity, guiding itself into place and removing a significant point of failure and frustration.

These features, while beneficial to all, become essential for users with motor impairments. They demonstrate a core tenet of Human Factors and Ergonomics: a design that minimizes the physical and mental effort required to achieve a goal is inherently a better design.

From a Feature to a Philosophy: The Heart of Inclusive Design

This shaver is a perfect, if perhaps unintentional, example of Inclusive Design. As defined by institutions like Microsoft, inclusive design is a methodology that enables and draws on the full range of human diversity. Crucially, it emphasizes that disability is not a personal health condition, but a mismatched interaction between a person’s features and the environment. The problem isn’t the person with tremors; the problem is a razor handle that demands a perfectly steady hand.

Inclusive design encourages solving for one, and extending to many. By designing a shaver that works for someone with a permanent physical disability (tremors), the designers inadvertently created a better product for someone with a situational disability—like a new parent trying to shave one-handed while holding a baby, or anyone with soap-slicked hands in the shower.

This is often called the “curb-cut effect.” Curb cuts—the small ramps on sidewalks—were initially designed for wheelchair users. But they ended up benefiting everyone: parents pushing strollers, travelers with wheeled luggage, delivery workers with dollies. By designing for the margins, we create a more accessible and efficient world for the mainstream. The story of the OXO Good Grips kitchen tools, born from the founder’s observation of his wife’s struggle with arthritis, is another powerful example. A peeler that is comfortable for an arthritic hand is more comfortable for every hand.

The Quiet Mandate of Good Design

It’s unlikely that the engineers of this shaver set out with the specific goal of helping an 84-year-old man with tremors. They were likely just trying to build a good, easy-to-use product. But in doing so, they demonstrated the most important lesson of this philosophy: the best inclusive design is often just good design.

Products that are easy to open, simple to operate, and forgiving of error don’t just cater to a niche market; they conquer the mainstream. There is a powerful business case, as well as a moral one, for this approach. As global populations age—the World Health Organization notes that by 2030, 1 in 6 people in the world will be aged 60 years or over—designing for a wider range of physical and cognitive abilities is no longer optional. It is a market and ethical imperative.

Catherine Vessey’s review is a quiet but profound reminder that the objects we design carry immense power. They can be sources of frustration and exclusion, or they can be instruments of empowerment and dignity. The choice, for every designer and engineer, is to decide which future they want to build.