You’ve probably heard the quote often pinned to Einstein: “If you can’t explain it simply, you don’t understand it well enough.” It sounds wise, almost like a universal rule for communication. But when we look closer, especially through a neuro-affirming lens, it starts to unravel.
Because here’s the thing: what even is simple?
For some people, “simple” means short, stripped-back, easy-to-digest. For others, it means concrete detail, the kind of step-by-step explanation that builds a full picture.
What feels clear to one brain can feel vague, or even misleading, to another. And that’s not about intelligence. That’s about neurodiversity.
Autistic and otherwise Neurodivergent people often think in layers, tangents, or precision. We might explain something with the “too much detail” that others want to cut away. But that detail is the clarity. To oversimplify is to lose the heart of what we actually understand.
So, when people weaponize Einstein’s quote, it becomes a way of dismissing us: “You must not understand it, or you’d say it more simply.”
But understanding and communication are not the same thing. You can know something deeply and still struggle to package it in a way that fits someone else’s
idea of “simple.” That’s especially true if you communicate differently, through visuals, metaphors, or spirals of thought that don’t line up neatly with linear speech.
And it’s worth saying, “simplicity” assumes there’s a one-size-fits-all audience.
But understanding is always relational. It depends on who you’re speaking with, how they process, what they already know, what matters to them.
A child might not need simplicity; they might need play.
An Autistic child might not need simplification; they might crave the exact details that many adults leave out.
So maybe the problem isn’t that we don’t understand. Maybe the problem is that we assume communication has to look one way.
A more affirming reframe might be: “If you understand something, you can share it in ways that reflect your enjoyment or interest in the subject, and people can meet you where you are.”
or
“True understanding isn’t about simplifying; it’s about translating, finding different ways to connect so others can meet you where they are.”
or
“If you really understand something, you can share it in ways that create connection, not by making it smaller, but by meeting people where they are.”
or
“Understanding isn’t measured by simplicity, but by flexibility, being able to express ideas in ways that honour how different minds make meaning.”
or
“When we truly understand something, we can hold space for many ways of explaining and receiving, understanding becomes something we build together.”
or
“If we really understand something, we can share it in many forms, not to make it simple, but to make it reachable.”
Sometimes clarity is simple. Sometimes clarity is detailed. And sometimes, clarity looks like holding space for the glorious complexity of thought itself.
Understanding doesn’t always mean making things smaller or easier, sometimes it means widening the frame so more people can see themselves in it.
So, what speaks to you most? The simple, the detailed, or the wonderfully complex?
This reimagining honours complexity. It honours multimodal communication. It honours that different brains connect to different styles. And it frees us from the idea that knowledge must be bent until it suits the dominant culture.
Breaking this down further:
1. What is "simple"?
“Simple” isn’t neutral. What feels simple to one person may feel reductive, confusing, or incomplete to another.
For Autistic and otherwise Neurodivergent individuals, detail, precision, and nuance often is the point. A stripped-back explanation may lose the integrity of the concept.
Equating simplicity with understanding risks dismissing communication styles that are nonlinear, layered, or metaphor-rich.
2. Whose understanding counts?
Einstein’s framing assumes a universal audience who will “get it” when something is made simple. But in reality, audiences are diverse; developmental stage, language, processing style, cultural background, and neurotype all shape what counts as “understanding.”
A child, for instance, may grasp complexity differently, not less than an adult, but differently. Autistic children might prefer concrete details or systemised explanations, while others might resonate with story or play.
3. Weaponisation of simplicity
The quote can be used as a cudgel: “If people don’t get it, you must not understand it.” This delegitimises communicators whose natural style is more complex, tangential, or layered (often neurodivergent styles).
It also shifts responsibility unfairly onto the speaker, ignoring the relational nature of communication, understanding is co-constructed.
4. Knowledge vs. communication
Understanding something and being able to explain it in a certain style aren’t the same thing. Someone may deeply understand a concept but struggle to reframe it into “simple” language because of expressive differences (common in Autistic, ADHD, or language-affected and
bilingual folks).
Neuro-affirming practice reminds us that communication differences are not deficits, they’re diversity.
5. Alternative framing
Reframe the saying for a more inclusive version.
This honours multimodal communication- visual, metaphorical, detailed, embodied- and acknowledges that clarity emerges not from simplicity, but from adaptability and mutual respect.
✨Takeaway:
Einstein’s quote is catchy, but neuro-affirming critique exposes its limitations.
“Simplicity” isn’t always the highest form of understanding.
Sometimes depth, nuance, and complexity are necessary to honour the truth of a concept, and neurodivergent ways of explaining may carry forms of clarity that neuronormative standards overlook.