Ralph Waldo Emerson once said, “Common sense is genius dressed in its working clothes.” This makes you wonder if Common Sense has retired, hung up its working clothes, poured a stiff drink, slumped down on the couch, remote in hand, and turned its back on us entirely.
Ralph Waldo Emerson once said, “Common sense is genius dressed in its working clothes.” This makes you wonder if Common Sense has retired, hung up its working clothes, poured a stiff drink, slumped down on the couch, remote in hand, and turned its back on us entirely.
It certainly feels like common sense—or native reason, mother wit, horse sense, whatever you want to call it—has been evicted from daily life. We see it (or rather, don’t see it) everywhere: at the grocery store, in traffic, at work, even in the simplest of human interactions.
But here’s the real kicker: as much as we’d love to blame clueless individuals for their baffling lack of awareness, we have to admit that something bigger is at play. Technology, which was supposed to make us sharper, more informed, and more efficient, seems to have done the opposite. We’ve reached a point where people trust their GPS more than their own eyes, stare at screens instead of looking both ways before crossing the street, and need an app to remind them to drink water.
Has technology made life easier? Sure. But it’s also made us collectively dumber in ways we never anticipated. The more we rely on it, the less we engage with reality. And when common sense gets outsourced to devices and algorithms, the results aren’t just laughable—they’re exhausting.
So, what exactly is common sense? And why does it seem to be slipping through our fingers like a phone in the hands of someone who ignored the “liquid damage” warning?
What is Common Sense, and Why Does It Matter?
Common sense, by definition, is supposed to be the innate ability to make sound judgments based on simple logic and practical experience. It’s what stops us from touching a hot stove, walking into oncoming traffic, or assuming that gas station sushi is a wise dinner choice. It’s not about having a genius IQ or a doctorate in physics; it’s about having a basic level of awareness that allows society to function without complete chaos.
In theory, common sense should be universal, a built-in survival mechanism that prevents people from making wildly illogical decisions. And yet, as we observe the world around us, it seems that many individuals are either blissfully unaware of its existence or actively rejecting it in favor of personal convenience, ignorance, or sheer stubbornness. Why does this matter? Because when common sense breaks down, everyday life becomes a frustrating obstacle course of avoidable nonsense. We find ourselves dodging clueless aisle blockers, listening to unnecessary meeting invites, and standing in line behind people who suddenly forget how to use basic technology.
The loss of common sense isn’t just an inconvenience—it’s an epidemic of poor decision-making that affects everything from grocery store efficiency to workplace productivity. So, let’s take a deep dive into some of the most glaring examples of its absence and see if we can figure out why society seems to be struggling with the basics of logical thinking.
Is Technology Making Common Sense Vanish? And Can We Turn It Around?
If common sense was already on life support, technology might just be the overenthusiastic nurse accidentally pulling the plug. What was once an innate ability to assess situations with logic and practicality is now outsourced to algorithms, notifications, and virtual assistants who somehow still get it wrong half the time.
Let’s be honest—technology has made life easier in countless ways. But somewhere along the line, it also became a crutch, slowly eroding our ability to think for ourselves. We don’t remember phone numbers anymore because our contacts app does it for us. We rely on GPS even when driving through our own neighborhoods. We need a reminder to drink water. And heaven help us if the Wi-Fi goes down—within minutes, people are wandering aimlessly as if civilization itself has collapsed.
The Over-Reliance Problem
The more we rely on technology to do our thinking, the less we seem to use our own judgment. Take basic decision-making, for instance. At one point, choosing a restaurant involved glancing inside and making a call based on how crowded (or empty) it was. Now? We stare at online reviews, analyze star ratings like stock market trends, and still end up second-guessing ourselves. And when the food is terrible, we’re outraged—not at the restaurant, but at Google for leading us astray.
Social skills have also taken a hit. Ever seen someone call their friend to ask if they got their text? Or better yet, someone typing “hey” in a chat, then waiting for a response before continuing their thought? That’s what happens when people forget how to hold an organic conversation without the aid of typing bubbles and emojis.
And let’s not even get started on the impact of spellcheck and autocorrect. A once-useful tool has created a generation that panics when faced with the terrifying prospect of writing something by hand. Suddenly, the word “necessary” looks wrong, no matter how they spell it.
The Illusion of Intelligence
One of the biggest problems is that technology often gives people the illusion of intelligence. Just because someone can Google something in seconds doesn’t mean they understand it. And yet, we’ve all encountered that one person who reads half an article and suddenly thinks they’re an expert. “I watched a five-minute YouTube video on quantum physics, so let me explain it to you.” No, Todd. Please don’t.
It’s the same logic that leads to people blindly following GPS directions even when it’s clearly sending them the wrong way. If the phone says to drive into a lake, then by all means, let’s floor it. Common sense would tell you that water and cars don’t mix, but for some, if an app says otherwise, who are they to question it?
Can We Turn It Around?
The short answer? Maybe. But it won’t be easy.
Reversing the decline of common sense requires effort—actual, intentional effort. It means re-engaging with reality instead of defaulting to digital solutions for everything. Here’s how we start:
- Think Before You Google – Instead of reaching for your phone every time a question pops into your head, take a moment to reason through it. Give your brain a chance to work things out before handing the job to a search engine.
- Relearn Basic Life Skills – Know how to do simple math without a calculator. Memorize at least a few important phone numbers. Navigate your own city without GPS. The more you rely on yourself, the sharper your instincts stay.
- Pay Attention to the World Around You – Instead of staring at your phone while walking, look up. Notice things. Be aware of your surroundings. That’s how you avoid walking into traffic—or into someone else because you were too busy watching TikTok.
- Embrace Discomfort – Not everything needs to be streamlined or optimized for convenience. A little frustration forces people to think. If you have to figure something out without an app’s help, you’re exercising your mental muscles instead of letting them atrophy.
- Call Out Nonsense – If someone is making an absurdly illogical decision because “that’s what the app said,” don’t be afraid to say, “Hey, maybe use some common sense instead.” It might not always work, but at least you tried.
Technology isn’t inherently bad. But when it replaces basic reasoning, we’re in trouble. If we don’t want common sense to vanish completely, we have to make a conscious effort to keep it alive. Because if we keep letting AI and algorithms do all the thinking for us, we might as well admit defeat and let Siri start making our grocery lists, choosing our careers, and dictating our life choices. And judging by the autocorrect fails alone, that’s a terrifying future.
The Grocery Store Chronicles: A Live Look at Society Unraveling
If you want a front-row seat to the erosion of common sense, just spend a few hours at the grocery store. It’s a sociological experiment that requires no funding—just patience and the ability to suppress the urge to throw canned goods.
The Aisle Blocker:
You know this person. They abandon their cart smack in the middle of the aisle, blissfully unaware that they’ve created a traffic jam worthy of a major metropolitan freeway at rush hour. The best part? The way they look surprised when you say, “Excuse me,” as if you materialized out of thin air.
But it gets worse. Have you ever noticed the aisle blocker also manages to move at a speed rivaling a slow-motion replay? You try to be polite, clearing your throat, tapping your foot, even telepathically, willing them to move. And when they finally do? They shuffle exactly three inches to the side, still blocking half the aisle. It’s an art form, really. And somehow, despite all this, they act as if they are the victim of some cosmic injustice when you maneuver around them.
Self-Checkout Sabotage:
The machine literally tells you what to do. Yet somehow, people manage to fumble through the process like they’re trying to crack the Da Vinci Code. Watching someone repeatedly scan an item and look around like they expect an intervention from the heavens is a special kind of agony.
Let’s not forget the barcode skeptics—the ones who flip their item around at least five times, unsure if they trust that the universal symbol of commerce will actually work. And when they finally scan it? "Unexpected item in the bagging area." Cue the existential crisis. And then there are those who insist on paying in cash, feeding in crumpled bills one by one while the line behind them collectively questions every life decision that led them to this moment.
The Express Lane Fraud:
It’s a 10-item limit. Not 12. Not 15. And definitely not an entire month’s worth of groceries. But there they stand, boldly unloading a cart full of enough food to feed a mid-sized family reunion, while the rest of us cling to our three items like peasants waiting for mercy.
And their defense? “Oh, I didn’t see the sign.” No, Sharon, you saw it. You just didn’t think it applied to you. Worse, they often seem to move at a snail’s pace, as if daring the cashier to challenge them. Some even get aggressive if called out, throwing a tantrum as if grocery store rules are meant for lesser beings.
If we can’t even navigate the grocery store with a basic understanding of common courtesy and logic, what hope do we have in more complex matters?
The Great Parking Lot Conundrum
Parking lots are like the Wild West—lawless, unpredictable, and full of people who think “yield” is a suggestion rather than a rule. There are a few distinct species of offenders here:
The Lane Blocker:
This person decides that right in front of the entrance is the perfect place to have a full phone conversation, trapping a line of cars behind them. The hazards are on, so clearly, that makes it okay.
What’s even more baffling? The number of people who will actually honk or try to squeeze around them instead of just waiting five seconds for them to move. We have lost all sense of patience and logic at the same time.
The Reverse-Only Driver:
Despite empty spaces ahead, they insist on backing into a spot—taking approximately the same amount of time as a high-budget Hollywood film to complete the maneuver. If you’re behind them, too bad. Hope you brought snacks.
The Phantom Cart Returner:
Actually, scratch that. They never return their cart. Instead, they leave it gently resting against someone else’s car like a passive-aggressive farewell gift.
I’m convinced this is the defining test of whether someone has a shred of decency. There are designated cart returns every 20 feet, yet people still choose to abandon their carts in the most inconvenient locations. This is why we can’t have nice things.
Some even push their carts with reckless abandon, sending them careening into other vehicles while they quickly scurry away, avoiding eye contact like a criminal fleeing the scene.
The Human Roadblocks: Conversations in Doorways and Stairwells
If you’ve ever been rushing to get somewhere only to be blocked by two or more people deeply engrossed in a conversation right in the middle of a doorway, you know the struggle. There’s an entire world of open space, but for some reason, these individuals believe the best place to stop and chat is in the one spot everyone else needs to pass through.
The Doorway Debaters:
These folks have seemingly never considered that a doorway has a purpose—namely, allowing people to enter and exit a building. Instead, they treat it as a social lounge, posting up like bouncers outside a club, forcing everyone else to navigate around them. And if you dare to say, "Excuse me," they act as if you’ve just rudely interrupted the State of the Union address.
The Staircase Stoppers:
Then there are the people who decide that stairs—yes, stairs, a place built solely for movement—are the perfect venue for an in-depth discussion. They position themselves right in the middle, forcing others to awkwardly squeeze around them like contestants in an obstacle course. Worse, if you try to politely pass, they shuffle just enough to keep you blocked, as if they’ve made it their personal mission to defend that spot.
Why do they do this? Is it a complete lack of awareness, or do they genuinely believe their conversation is so important it should take precedence over the natural flow of movement? Either way, it’s maddening.
A simple solution: MOVE. Literally anywhere else. Step aside, find a bench, use a corner—anything but creating a human traffic jam. It’s not difficult, but apparently, it’s beyond the grasp of some.
Summing Up
At the end of the day, common sense is a rare and beautiful thing, much like a well-stocked Target on a Sunday. It’s easy to feel frustrated, to shake your head in disbelief at the sheer absurdity of human behavior. But maybe—just maybe—if enough of us commit to using our brains just a little bit more, we can turn the tide.
Or, at the very least, get people to stop blocking the grocery store aisle. Maybe someday, in a utopian future, we’ll live in a world where people read signs, put things back where they belong, and don’t need 20 minutes to figure out how a self-checkout works. But until then, we’ll be here, shaking our heads, muttering, “You’ve got to be kidding me,” and wondering if common sense will ever make a comeback.
