A real-time vehicle detection and multimodal safety alert system designed for blind and visually impaired pedestrians. NeuroNav transforms a smartphone into an "electronic eye" using on-device YOLOv8 computer vision, communicating vehicle distance, direction, type, and urgency through synchronized voice announcements, haptic patterns, and optional audio tones—all running at 10 FPS without internet connectivity to preserve privacy and ensure reliability when it matters most.
"This would boost my confidence walking around outside."
— Participant P6, Iowa Department for the Blind User Testing
This project represents my deepest exploration of trust calibration in safety-critical AI systems—where a single false negative could mean a life-threatening situation, and where the humans I'm designing for have fundamentally different sensory relationships with the world than sighted designers typically consider.
Electric and hybrid vehicles have created an invisible crisis for blind pedestrians. Research documents a 37% increase in pedestrian-vehicle accidents involving blind individuals when comparing electric vehicles to traditional combustion engines.
The physics are simple but deadly: electric vehicles are nearly silent at low speeds—exactly the speeds at which pedestrians cross streets, navigate parking lots, and move through intersections.
The blind community has developed remarkable compensatory skills—echolocation, traffic pattern recognition, environmental sound mapping—but electric vehicles have fundamentally broken these survival strategies.
"Those stupid quiet cars… you think it's safe, then zap."
"If it's electric, I won't even know it's there."
"I've stepped out thinking it's safe when it really wasn't."
Existing assistive navigation tools focus on wayfinding and obstacle avoidance, but none address the specific, time-critical challenge of detecting silent, moving vehicles. The gap isn't just a feature missing from an app—it's a safety void that costs lives.
To understand which problems were truly safety-critical versus merely frustrating, I mapped every reported breakdown by frequency, emotional intensity, and current workaround. Three issues emerged as life-threatening with no effective solution: silent electric vehicles, snow-related sensory deprivation, and close calls at intersections.
This isn't just a product design challenge—it's a systems design problem with cascading implications across technology, accessibility, urban planning, and social equity. The automotive industry's shift to electric vehicles, while environmentally beneficial, has created an unintended accessibility crisis.
Most existing tools for blind navigation fall into two extremes: generic GPS routing (Google/Apple Maps) or on-demand visual description (Be My Eyes, Seeing AI). None are designed as a proactive, always-on safety layer for real-time vehicle detection.
Gradual urgency indicators that communicate threat level in real-time as vehicles approach.
One false negative destroys trust entirely. Users need a system they can depend on completely.
Freedom to navigate public spaces with confidence, not constant anxiety.
Feedback that works across different environmental conditions—noise, weather, context.
Doesn't interfere with cane, guide dog, or existing navigation strategies.
Extending human perception into a domain where biological sensing has been rendered obsolete.
I conducted 8 contextual inquiry interviews with blind and visually impaired participants, observing their navigation strategies in real environments and documenting the breakdowns they experience daily.
From the 8 participants, I synthesized four anchor personas that represent distinct safety profiles and design tensions. Each major design decision can be traced back to one of these people.
Shadowing participants at real intersections revealed a surprisingly structured mental model for crossing: a four-stage protocol that breaks down precisely where silent vehicles and turn lanes appear.
Participants rarely discover new tools through the app store. Almost everything spreads via word of mouth, with an unforgiving trial window: if an app doesn't prove itself in the first 2–3 uses, it is abandoned permanently.
Across the 8 participants, I catalogued which apps they currently rely on, what they use them for, and why several have been abandoned. This clarified where NeuroNav should complement existing tools instead of duplicating them.
When asked to design their ideal solution, participants converged on a surprisingly tight set of must-have features. These directly shaped the NeuroNav MVP scope.
For this audience, trust is binary: either the system behaves perfectly within its stated responsibilities, or it is abandoned. These signals translated directly into NeuroNav's design principles and success metrics.
Target reduction in near-miss incidents
Target trust score in longitudinal testing
Target retention over 3 months
Designing for safety-critical accessibility required navigating several fundamental tensions:
Every major feature in NeuroNav was explicitly mapped to at least one persona and one value proposition. This prevented me from adding 'cool' features that didn't reduce actual risk.
Higher frame rates improve detection responsiveness but drain batteries faster. Landed on 10 FPS as optimal balance—fast enough for pedestrian-speed scenarios, efficient enough for sustained use. Adaptive frame processing scales down when stationary.
Users need distance, direction, vehicle type, and urgency—but receiving all simultaneously overwhelms processing. Implemented progressive disclosure: minimal initial alert, detailed info on demand or escalating with threat level.
A system alerting on every vehicle becomes noise. One filtering too aggressively misses threats. Developed context-aware throttling considering vehicle trajectory, user movement, and historical patterns.
Unlike sighted users who can verify outputs, blind users must trust completely—one false negative shatters trust permanently. Design philosophy: safety over convenience, always. When in doubt, alert.
NeuroNav transforms the smartphone camera into an "electronic eye," running YOLOv8 object detection to identify vehicles in real-time. When a vehicle is detected, the system calculates distance (0–100 feet), determines direction relative to user orientation, classifies vehicle type, and assesses urgency level—then communicates all of this through synchronized multimodal feedback.
Under the hood, NeuroNav runs a tightly constrained pipeline to keep total latency under 500ms while preserving battery life. The camera stream is normalized and cropped to a region of interest, passed through a tiny YOLO-v8-nano model, then fused with depth estimation and Kalman-filter tracking to infer distance, direction, and urgency.
Rather than generic "vehicle detected" alerts, provides spatially-grounded information: "Car approaching from left, 40 feet." Eliminated orientation ambiguity from early prototypes.
Three distinct haptic patterns: gentle pulse (distant), rhythmic vibration (approaching), continuous urgent buzz (immediate threat). Participants learned patterns within minutes.
Native bridge allowing detection system to interrupt screen reader announcements for critical alerts while maintaining screen reader functionality for UI navigation.
Flat, predictable structure with WCAG AAA compliant touch targets (80+ pixels) and logical focus order. Redesigned after realizing early prototypes assumed visual scanning.
Frame-aware scheduling prioritizes inference completion before next camera frame, maintaining consistent 10 FPS performance without dropped detections.
All modalities begin within 50ms of each other, creating a unified "alert event" rather than competing signals. Fixed cognitive dissonance from early versions.
The architecture is intentionally offline-first: all safety-critical detection, urgency calculation, and multimodal alerts run entirely on the user's phone. Optional cloud services handle slower-moving tasks like analytics, map updates, and model retraining.
Uses YOLOv8 for real-time object detection, running entirely on-device via Unity's Barracuda inference engine. Architecture chosen deliberately:
Provides device orientation, motion tracking, and camera access. Critically enables context-aware alerts:
Comprehension of system purpose within 2 minutes
Adoption intent for regular use
Voice announcements rating
Settings/customization rating
"This would boost my confidence walking outside."
— P6
"The voice is perfect—just tell me left, right, and distance."
— P2
"Tones get too much. Let me turn them off."
— P4
"Make the buttons bigger… like way bigger."
— P1
Through this project, I crystallized a set of design principles for safety-critical assistive technology:
When the system is uncertain, it alerts. False positives are recoverable; false negatives are not. Every design decision filters through this principle.
Users either trust the system completely or don't use it. One missed vehicle destroys trust. Design for 100% reliability, not 99%.
Any single sensory channel can fail. Multiple parallel channels ensure the message gets through regardless of environment or context.
The customization panel was highest-rated. Users want control over technology affecting their safety. Provide meaningful choices without overwhelming complexity.
Relative directions (left/right) beat absolute (north/south). Threat level matters more than vehicle type. Information should be actionable, not comprehensive.
On-device processing addresses both concerns simultaneously. Users trust systems that don't require internet or transmit location data.
Every major design decision was validated with blind users before implementation. My assumptions (like the value of audio tones) were often wrong; their expertise was essential.
NeuroNav taught me that designing for accessibility isn't about adding features to an existing design—it's about fundamentally reconsidering what design means when your users experience the world through different sensory channels.
I started this project with technical confidence. I knew how to run neural networks on mobile devices, how to build AR applications, how to design multimodal interfaces. What I didn't know was how profoundly my own visual bias had shaped my design intuitions. My early prototypes were beautiful on screen and useless to my actual users.
The breakthrough came when I stopped thinking about "accessibility features" and started thinking about "sensory translation." A car approaching silently is a visual phenomenon. My job was to translate that visual information into auditory and tactile channels that blind users already understand and trust.
The research process was humbling. I had assumed audio tones would be valuable (they weren't). I had assumed detailed vehicle information would be useful (it wasn't). I had assumed my interface was accessible because it had proper semantic markup (it wasn't, because it assumed visual scanning patterns). Every assumption challenged, every certainty overturned.
When P6 said "this would boost my confidence walking outside," I understood that confidence—not detection accuracy, not inference speed—is the real deliverable. Technology in service of human agency.
This project also deepened my understanding of trust in AI systems. For sighted users, AI assistants are evaluated on convenience. For blind users relying on NeuroNav at a crosswalk, the AI is evaluated on survival. That asymmetry demands a different design posture: extreme reliability, transparent uncertainty, graceful degradation, human override.
I carry these lessons forward into every project now. Design with, not for. Trust is binary. Safety over convenience. And always, always: the best technology is invisible, letting humans do what they were already trying to do, just a little more safely.