Singapore Changi and Gold Coast Airport

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.

Singapore Changi Airport – The Calm Room

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.

Is a Quiet Space Enough?

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 – Preparation and Predictability

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.

Resources include Social Stories, airport maps and a 360-degree virtual airport tour. These allow passengers to become more familiar with the airport before travelling and potentially understand what different stages of the journey will look like before encountering them in person.

This connects directly to one of the most consistent findings across my research: predictability matters. Familiarising somebody with an unfamiliar environment could reduce uncertainty and allow them to prepare for different stages of the journey in advance. The 360-degree tour is particularly interesting because it goes beyond written instructions and allows somebody to visually explore the environment.

However, I also want to question how much these resources improve the actual experience of travelling, rather than simply appearing comprehensive as accessibility information.

An airport journey rarely happens exactly as planned. Gates change, flights are delayed, queues appear unexpectedly and procedures can differ depending on circumstances. A Social Story or virtual tour may make the physical airport more familiar, but it cannot necessarily prepare somebody for every variation that occurs during the real journey.

This creates a distinction between preparing someone for the expected journey and supporting them when the journey becomes unexpected.

My questionnaire research has already suggested that disruption can significantly increase the amount of support an autistic traveller requires. Therefore, while Gold Coast's resources appear valuable for preparation, I am interested in what happens when the passenger reaches the limits of what those resources prepared them for.

Two Different Approaches

Looking at Singapore Changi and Gold Coast together reveals two different approaches to autism-friendly air travel.

Changi focuses strongly on the experience of being within the airport, particularly by creating an environment where passengers can move away from the sensory demands of the terminal. Gold Coast places greater emphasis on understanding the journey, giving passengers resources that can increase familiarity and predictability before they travel.

Both respond to genuine needs identified throughout my research. However, both also reveal potential limitations. A shared sensory environment may still struggle to accommodate conflicting sensory needs, while detailed preparation cannot remove the unpredictability of a live international journey.

This has made me question whether “going the extra mile” should simply mean providing more autism-specific facilities and information. Perhaps the more important measure is how much those interventions allow an autistic traveller to maintain control when their individual needs or circumstances change.

Reflection

These case studies have helped me move beyond viewing airport accessibility as a checklist of features. A sensory room, map, Social Story or virtual tour may all be useful, but their presence alone does not necessarily create an accessible journey.

Singapore particularly interests me because the Calm Room begins to recognise that passengers may require different environments in order to regulate. However, my primary research raises an important challenge to shared sensory spaces: if people have conflicting sensory needs, creating one universally calming environment may be impossible. This has started to make individual sensory control feel more important than attempting to prescribe what a calm environment should be.

Gold Coast demonstrates the value of preparation and familiarisation, but it raises a different question about what happens when reality no longer matches the prepared journey. Information can increase predictability, but international travel inevitably contains elements that neither the airport nor passenger can fully predict.

The strongest principle I am beginning to take from both examples is therefore control. Rather than trying to eliminate every possible source of uncertainty or sensory difficulty, perhaps accessibility should allow autistic travellers greater control over how they experience and respond to those difficulties when they occur.

This is something I want to carry forward rather than immediately turn into a design solution. Ideas such as headphones or VR may offer one way of increasing individual control within an existing shared environment, but the more important finding at this stage is the underlying need for personalisation, choice and the ability to regulate independently within an airport journey.