Is ‘Dumbing It Down’ Make Us All Dumber?

Why I want you to treat me like a preschooler in a science lesson…

Back in the day, I taught science to preschoolers. Every week, I would lead a 45-minute activity introducing concepts like polymers, buoyancy, electrical circuits, and chlorophyll. The key was using scientific language—real terms—not watered-down versions. My job was to define the terms clearly but not shy away from their complexity.

To my amazement, these three- to five-year-olds would come back the next week, confidently explaining what non-Newtonian fluids were. They could describe what a polymer was and could articulate basic scientific principles that would make most adults pause. Week after week, they blew me away. Their ability to grasp and articulate these concepts was a testament to their inherent curiosity and intelligence.

Fast forward to my career in operations, where I worked closely with marketing teams, contractors, and had general oversight of our marketing initiatives. During that time, I was taught something starkly different: write at a fifth-grade reading level. The idea was that simpler language would resonate more broadly. While there are times when this approach makes sense, I believe we've overused it. What we've created is a landscape of watered-down marketing copy that all sounds the same.

Go to any product website, and you’ll often encounter a sea of sameness. One company claims to revolutionize your life in the same vague terms and tone as another, no matter the industry or product. The focus on emotional appeal—how you'll feel using their product—overshadows what the product actually does or how it stands out. Rather than clearly defining the problem and the solution, these websites drown in exaggerated claims, hoping the consumer will fill in the gaps. As an operations professional, board member, and consultant, I’ve researched payment solutions, CRM platforms, time tracking software, emergency response systems, and event management tools. I’ve been an active consumer searching for solutions to what often feel like intangible problems (or at least that’s how I’m left feeling after reading these sites). I’m part of the target demographic, and it is a struggle!

Here’s the problem: Consumers are smarter than we give them credit for. People want solutions, and they want clarity. Yes, they want results like efficiency, simplicity, to grow their business, and more sales, but just telling them your product delivers these vague outcomes isn't helpful. Ideally, every product would drive these results, whether it’s in marketing, sales, or employee management. Saying that is not unique. It’s noise. It sounds like everyone else. What sets product marketing apart is the how.

A great example of this phenomenon is politics. Political campaigns often lean on emotional appeals and oversimplified slogans, avoiding nuanced discussions about policy. This is marketing at its most reductive. It assumes voters can’t or won’t engage with complexity, so it feeds them easy soundbites instead. It’s patronizing, and worse—it’s ineffective for building trust or delivering substance. “I will make your life better.” “I will cut your taxes, and I will cut them big.” “We will bring people together.” We will fix the broken immigration system.” Again, ideally all solutions will accomplish this, we want to know: How are you actually going to make this happen?

Here’s the truth: People can handle complexity. They want to understand. The success I saw in those preschoolers is proof. These children hadn’t lived decades of life, yet they could grasp advanced concepts when presented in a clear and engaging way. Imagine what adults, armed with their life experiences and natural curiosity, could absorb if we stopped underestimating them.

I’ll admit, I’m not immune to this either. I catch myself falling into the trap of oversimplifying because it feels easier—or let’s be honest, sometimes I’m just too tired to come up with something more thoughtful and creative. So, I get it. But I’m not the only one who’s been on the other side. Searching for a platform, service, or product and feeling frustrated, reading their website and practically begging, “Just tell me what you do! Is this what I’m looking for?” It makes me wonder—are we sacrificing clarity and authenticity in an attempt to make everything overly simple? Ironically, in an effort to simplify, we’ve actually made things more complicated. 

I’ve experienced this in real-time with my own kids. They’ll ask me a fairly complicated question, and in my attempt to dumb it down, I end up giving an unintelligible answer—even I’m left wondering, “Wait, what was the original question?” But when I slow down and take the time to explain thoroughly, it’s not only a more effective use of my time but also much better for their understanding. Maybe it’s the same in marketing—by taking shortcuts, we’re actually missing opportunities to connect and communicate clearly. What do you think?


P.S. Don’t judge my website—it’s a work in progress. I’m fully aware I’m a recipient of my own critique. This one's for all the marketing and copywriting pros who can do it better than me. I’m just so tired of getting lost on websites trying to find products, so I need you to make it easier for all of us. And when you crack the code, let me know—I’ll hire you to update my site! ;)

Hannah Mae Schaeffer

Hi, I’m Hannah — a mom, a sustainability advocate, and someone who’s constantly learning from my kids. I run HMK Impact, a company dedicated to helping businesses make measurable social and environmental changes. But my passion for sustainability doesn’t just stay at work — it’s woven into the way I raise my kids and navigate daily life.

Whether I’m biking with my family on the Greenbelt, figuring out how to make dinner work for my picky eaters (and my husband’s hockey appetite), or teaching my kids why we skip the applesauce pouches, I’m always trying to balance real-world challenges with my hope for a more sustainable future.

Writing helps me process those moments — the wins, the struggles, and the lessons I didn’t even know I needed. Thanks for joining me on this journey!

Previous
Previous

Sustainability’s Biggest Hypocrites—or Heroes?

Next
Next

For Liberty—and Bathrooms for All