Cities communicate constantly. They do so through kerbs and crossings, platforms and pathways, signals and sounds. For most citizens, this communication is visual. For a blind or visually impaired citizen, it is tactile and auditory. Where this language is absent or inconsistent, the city becomes unintelligible and exclusion follows not by intent, but by design.

On this measure, Japan has built one of the most coherent urban systems in the world for the visually impaired. India, notwithstanding progressive legislation and visible pockets of improvement, still offers a fragmented and frequently unsafe urban experience for blind citizens. The contrast is instructive, not accusatory.

The national context: accessibility as a test of governance

India is home to an estimated 12 million visually impaired persons, among the largest such populations globally. Urbanisation is accelerating; public transport usage is expanding; cities are becoming denser and more complex. Yet, for a significant section of citizens, urban mobility remains dependent on assistance rather than design.

The Rights of Persons with Disabilities Act mandates accessible public infrastructure. In recent years, metro systems, airports, and select public buildings have incorporated tactile tiles, Braille signage, and audio announcements. These are meaningful steps. However, implementation on the street tells a different story. Tactile pathways often end abruptly. Footpaths are encroached upon. Audio pedestrian signals are rare. What exists in policy frequently dissolves in practice.

Empirical studies by disability advocacy organisations indicate that over 75% of visually impaired urban residents in India depend on assistance from others for routine travel. This dependence is not a function of ability; it is a function of inconsistent design.

Japan’s approach: infrastructure as a communication system

Japan’s success rests on a deceptively simple principle: accessibility is a system, not a set of features. The invention of tactile paving in the 1960s was followed by decades of standardisation, legal enforcement, and routine maintenance.

According to Japan’s transport authorities, over 90% of railway stations nationwide are equipped with tactile paving and audio guidance, including suburban and rural stations. Only two tactile patterns are used across the country-directional bars and warning dots-laid in uniform colour, spacing, and logic. Once learned, the system is universally intelligible.

Audio pedestrian signals are standard at signalised crossings, not confined to central business districts. Railway stations announce directions with spatial clarity. Braille and raised signage appear at predictable heights and locations. Importantly, accessibility is audited and enforced under Japan’s Barrier-Free Act; broken tactile paths are treated as operational failures, not cosmetic defects.

A 2019 survey by the Japan Federation of the Blind found that nearly 70% of visually impaired respondents commute independently using public transport. Independence, in Japan, is not exceptional. It is the design assumption.

Best performers vs India: the measurable gap

The divergence between Japan and India is not philosophical; it is measurable.

Tactile continuity: Japan offers near-universal tactile coverage across footpaths, stations, and public buildings. In Indian city audits, over 40% of tactile pathways were found unusable due to obstructions, poor placement, or lack of maintenance.

Audio pedestrian signals: In Japan, talking signals are standard at crossings. In India, fewer than 5% of urban pedestrian signals are equipped with audio cues, largely restricted to pilot zones.
Rail and metro systems: Japanese platforms universally feature tactile edge warnings and audible door-location cues. In India, newer metro corridors perform better, but conventional rail stations-handling over 23 million passengers daily-largely lack platform-edge tactile safety features.

Enforcement: Japan audits accessibility. India legislates it, but enforcement remains sporadic.
These differences determine whether a blind citizen navigates independently or remains perpetually assisted.

Why consistency matters more than novelty

India’s accessibility discourse often gravitates towards technological pilots-apps, beacons, smart navigation tools. Japan’s experience offers a sobering counterpoint: low-tech, high-consistency infrastructure outperforms high-tech, low-coverage innovation.

A tactile pathway that works without batteries, updates, or permissions communicates reliably every day. Infrastructure must speak by default, not by exception.

From policy to practice: the case for a model inclusive ward

Bridging intent and execution requires demonstration. India would benefit from model urban wards-fully accessible neighbourhoods that function as living policy laboratories.

A ward of approximately 25,000 residents, with mixed land use and a public transport node, can be designed around a few non-negotiables: continuous tactile pathways without encroachments; audio pedestrian signals at every crossing; communicative public transport with audible route information and platform-edge warnings; tactile and audio wayfinding inside hospitals, schools, and government offices; and routine accessibility audits with clear accountability.

Accessibility features typically add no more than 1–2% to streetscape project costs. One such ward would cost less than a kilometre of elevated roadway, yet provide a scalable template for cities nationwide.

Logical Take

India has not stood still. The expansion of metro systems, the incorporation of accessibility norms in public buildings, and the legal recognition of disability rights reflect genuine progress and intent. Yet, the gap between provision and usability remains wide.

Japan’s experience demonstrates that accessibility succeeds not through isolated interventions, but through discipline, standardisation, and enforcement. The lesson for India is not to replicate Japan wholesale, but to adopt its seriousness of purpose.

When infrastructure speaks clearly and consistently, it restores independence, dignity, and trust. Closing this gap is not merely a matter of inclusion policy; it is a measure of state capacity and the quality of governance itself.