Women as the afterthought
Editor’s note: Sophie Davey is a senior research executive at Simpson Carpenter, specializing in quantitative automotive research. Find Davey on LinkedIn.
We assume the systems around us are designed for everyone. Increasingly, the evidence suggests they’re not.
Recent headlines around AI bias, including warnings from UN Women that AI systems are still “getting women wrong,” have once again brought a familiar issue into focus: Systems we assume are built for everyone often aren’t. At the same time, reports in the U.K. have highlighted similar concerns, with the Health Secretary warning that the National Health Service is “failing women and girls,” underlining how deeply embedded these gaps remain, even in major public institutions.
Whether it’s voice assistants that struggle to recognize female voices or wearable health technology calibrated around male physiology, the pattern is becoming increasingly difficult to ignore. The technology may be evolving, but the underlying design bias has not.
Acknowledging inequality in its many forms isn’t new. It spans industries, experiences and identities from healthcare to technology and beyond. Across many of these systems, design has historically centered on the male experience. And yet, in the U.K., women make up 51% of the population; a majority, still treated as the exception.
Capturing every way inequality shapes people’s lives would be impossible. But within that broader picture, there are areas where progress should arguably be further along than it is. Transport is one of them. A system that touches almost every part of daily life, shaping not only how safe we are, but what we pay and how freely we move. As a professional in the automotive industry, for me it is also one of the clearest examples of what happens when systems are not designed with everyone in mind.
Designed for men: The hidden risk in car safety
Despite huge advances in vehicle technology, from autonomous driving features to advanced driver‑assistance systems, one core element has barely changed. For decades, safety ratings have been built around a crash test dummy based on the average male body, a model introduced in 1978 and still widely used today. In a system that prides itself on precision and innovation, this consistency stands out for all the wrong reasons.
Research consistently finds that women are significantly more likely to be injured or killed in comparable crashes, with studies cited by the BBC indicating they are 47% more likely to be seriously injured and 17% more likely to die. When safety systems are optimized for one body type, anyone outside of it is placed at greater risk and in this case, that’s half the population.
Fortunately, some brands and regulators are beginning to respond. Volvo, for example, has publicly released decades of safety data to improve understanding of gender differences in crashes, while organizations in Sweden have developed more representative crash test dummies. But progress is slow and crucially, there is still no legal requirement to include female models in testing.
Paying more to get the same: The pink tax on car ownership
This gender gap doesn’t just stop at safety though, it shows up in what women pay simply to own a car.
The term pink tax doesn’t just apply to razors and shampoo, it follows women straight into car dealerships and insurance offices. For many, it’s a familiar feeling: walking into a dealership prepared and informed, and yet, still sensing the overwhelming feeling of inequality. The idea that an invoice is slightly too high is something you can’t quite prove but still recognize. It’s easy to dismiss this as perception, but the data tells a different story.
Studies from institutions including Yale and the National Bureau of Economic Research show that women are more likely to be quoted higher prices for identical repairs, influenced by assumptions around knowledge and confidence. Insurance reflects a similar imbalance; when gender-based pricing was removed in the U.K., women’s premiums largely rose to match men’s, not the other way around. And financing adds yet another layer, with research showing women are more likely to face higher interest rates, even with identical credit profiles.
Individually, these differences may seem marginal. But over time, they compound. One study estimates women pay an average of $7,800 more over the lifetime of car ownership, not because they make different choices, but because of how the system responds to them.
The cost of feeling safe: Women’s invisible travel tax
Mobility isn’t just about convenience, it’s about safety. For many women, that safety comes at a price. Decisions such as choosing a taxi over a walk, avoiding certain routes or leaving somewhere earlier to avoid risk are so routine they often go unnoticed, but they add up. Research suggests women spend an average of £528 more each year simply to feel safe getting from A to B – a growing concept known as the “safety tax.” Particularly following the murder of Sarah Everard in 2021, many women in the U.K. openly shared how they alter even the most ordinary commutes to reduce risk. For me, it’s the accumulation of small decisions. Taking the longer route home just because it’s well-lit, paying surge pricing for taxis late at night or leaving plans earlier simply because the emotional and financial cost of getting home safely feels too high. These choices rarely appear in transport planning or cost‑of‑living discussions, yet they quietly drain women’s time, money and energy, one decision at a time.
Platforms like Uber and Bolt have now introduced features such as trip tracking and emergency alerts in response to safety concerns, a definite stride forward. Similarly, some cities have also trialed request‑stop bus policies at night to improve safety overall. These are steps in the right direction, but they are still reactive and almost feel a little too late.
The cost of not being considered
What’s most concerning isn’t just the scale of the issue, but how normal it has become. While researching this, what stood out almost as much as the data was the lack of urgency around it; not because it’s been solved, but because we’ve grown used to it. This isn’t just a design flaw. It’s a missed opportunity, particularly for brands and businesses.
Because when women aren’t considered from the outset, the result isn’t just inequality – it’s poor products and flawed experiences. And in a market where women influence or control the majority of consumer spending decisions, it’s commercially short-sighted.
Some brands are starting to recognize this and are no longer treating women as the edge case, but rather central to the consumer research and design process. For instance, Apple has expanded health tracking features to better reflect women's bodies. Nike has invested in women‑specific product design beyond simple sizing adjustments. However, this gap still unfortunately remains and won’t close through awareness alone.
It closes when industries, designers and brands stop building for one experience and start building for reality. A system that only works for some isn’t just incomplete, it’s broken. And the longer we accept it, the longer we choose to keep it that way.