How Society Finally Outsourced Thinking to Signs, Apps and Online Reviews
Experts have confirmed that common sense, once considered humanity’s most abundant natural resource, has now become critically endangered.
The discovery came after a member of the public stood directly beneath a sign reading “Wet Paint” before touching it to check.
Witnesses report that the individual then complained that the paint was, in fact, wet.
Scientists describe this behaviour as “entirely normal in 2026.”
Once upon a time, common sense was everywhere. People instinctively knew not to stand in the middle of a doorway, leave a shopping trolley in a car parking space, or ask whether an appliance needed to be plugged in.
Today, however, society requires instructions for almost everything.
A modern coffee cup contains more warnings than a chainsaw.
Some products now carry labels advising customers not to ingest the packaging.
This suggests that somewhere, at some point, somebody looked at a cardboard box and thought:
“Worth a try.”
Perhaps the clearest evidence of civilisation’s decline can be found in the world’s growing dependence on online reviews.
There was a time when people entered restaurants and made decisions for themselves.
Now they spend forty minutes reading 600 reviews before ordering a sandwich.
One-star ratings have become particularly valuable.
Consider this genuine style of complaint:
“One star. It rained while I was visiting the seaside.”
An unfortunate business owner is expected to apologise for the weather and somehow improve atmospheric conditions before the customer’s next visit.
Technology has not helped.
Modern satnav systems have created a generation incapable of navigating beyond the end of their own street.
Drivers routinely ignore road signs, lane markings and visible reality because their phone has offered contradictory advice.
Entire lakes have reportedly been driven into because an app suggested it was the quickest route.
Faced with a large body of water, common sense once whispered:
“That appears to be a lake.”
A navigation app, however, confidently announces:
“Continue straight for 200 metres.”
The app wins every time.
Supermarkets provide further evidence.
An average aisle now contains at least three people staring helplessly at shelves while holding the exact shopping list they wrote themselves.
Meanwhile another customer asks an employee where the eggs are while standing directly in front of a tower consisting almost entirely of eggs.
The employee politely points at the eggs.
The customer thanks them and proceeds to examine the eggs as though they have been revealed through advanced archaeology.
Public spaces are no better.
Airports have become vast social experiments designed to determine whether people are capable of reading.
The answer appears to be no.
Passengers gather beneath a giant departure board showing gate numbers, destinations and departure times before immediately asking staff:
“Do you know what gate we’re at?”
The information is often displayed on a screen approximately the size of a detached house.
Yet somehow it remains invisible.
Then there is the modern epidemic of unnecessary questions.
People now ask social media for advice on matters historically handled by basic reasoning.
Forums overflow with urgent enquiries such as:
- “I left ice cream in the sun. Will it melt?”
- “My phone battery is dead. Why won’t it turn on?”
- “There’s a stranger in my garden. Should I investigate?”
Thousands of responses follow.
Humanity has never been more connected.
Nor more confused.
The workplace offers perhaps the most tragic examples.
Employees receive emails explaining exactly what must be done, when it must be done and how it must be done.
Moments later they reply:
“Just checking, what do you need from me?”
Meetings are arranged to discuss documents.
Further meetings are then required because nobody read the documents.
Action points are created to remind people about previous action points.
At some organisations, entire departments exist solely to manage the consequences of people ignoring information given to them the first time.
The economy would collapse overnight if everyone suddenly started paying attention.
Naturally, none of this stops us feeling intellectually superior.
Modern society may struggle to operate a self-service checkout machine, but it remains entirely confident in diagnosing global problems, managing international politics and coaching professional football teams from the sofa.
This is known as the Dunning-Kruger Home Edition.
In conclusion, common sense has not disappeared completely.
It can still occasionally be spotted in the wild, usually in older relatives who solve complex household problems using nothing more than practical thinking and a mildly disapproving look.
Researchers remain hopeful.
Unfortunately, when asked where common sense might be found, most members of the public responded:
“Have you checked online?”
