Can we all stop talking about the Technology?
What's wrong with just saying "it works really well"
There is something that has bugged me for a while: companies still proudly slapping words like “advanced technology” all over their marketing.
Are we, as buyers, really holding our breath, hoping to spot the "Advanced Technology" label before committing to a toaster or a piece of software? Hardly. Comsumers are already marinating in a soup of tech claims. Everything is smart, AI powered, Bluetooth enabled, and quantum scented. “Advanced” does not reassure anyone anymore; it just sounds like an echo, a faint, slightly desperate signal from a company trying to stand out without actually connecting to why their product matters.
When I see “advanced technology,” it often has the opposite effect. I picture a whiteboard meeting where someone panicked and said, “Quick, slap ‘advanced’ or better yet ‘next generation’ on it!” and everyone nodded like that solved something.
It is not even a new move. Before “advanced technology,” marketers leaned on “high technology” to avoid being mistaken for mundane. And when I was a kid, the magic word was “space age,” as if your new toaster oven had just returned from orbit, trailing cosmic superiority behind it. (“It toasts… in zero gravity!”)
Here is the real truth: building something that genuinely serves people is hard. And it is hard even when you stick to well understood tools and technologies. Great engineering is not about the vision of using shiny new parts; it is about judgment, understanding trade offs, fitting things together wisely, and making tough choices no one ever sees. That is what deserves celebrating, not some empty label.
Sometimes, though, proven tools are not enough. Sometimes the problem you are chasing forces you into new territory. You cannot just pick from the toolbox; you have to invent a tool. Betting on a method or pattern that has not been proven is not about being bold for its own sake. It is what you do when it is the only way forward.
Even then, there is rarely a single, famous “Eureka!” moment to brag about. The road to a real product is a long existential slog, full of setbacks, dead ends, and brick walls that do not announce themselves until you are already face first into them. And even if you do advance the state of the art, here is the twist: that might not even be the most important thing.
If you make it to market, the story you tell should probably not be about your shiny new tech. It should not even be about how brilliant your team is (even if they are).
It should be a love letter to the problem you set out to solve.
Because real innovation is not about “advanced technology.”
It is about stubbornness, empathy, and purpose.
The tech is just what happens along the way.