My immediate family somehow went untouched by Covid-19, at least knowingly, until late 2023. So by the time one of the kids came down with it, we had a pretty good handle on testing, treatment and the like. We knew to keep him hydrated and he knew to steer clear of his younger brother. This wasn’t rocket science.

Which is why my wife and I were taken aback when, at the height of his discomfort, he asked us about ivermectin. He’d heard about it on YouTube and from his friends (I didn’t have “group chat populated by 12-year-olds ventures into discussion of respiratory disease” on my Bingo card, but that’s a story for another time), and wanted to know why he hadn’t yet been treated with it.

My initial response (“because you’re not a horse with ringworm”) eventually bled into a more involved one. In no particular order, it touched on recommended Covid treatments, communicable disease, chronic disease, nutrition, exercise, mental health, puberty, hygiene, addiction, grandma’s shingles, grandpa’s Parkinson’s disease and the cost of medical school. What the conversation lacked in coherence it more than made up for in length. We agreed that, next time around, mom would take the first stab at answering his questions.

Nonetheless, it got me thinking about the cascading effects of low health literacy – on my children, selfishly, but also on a population less trusting of the public-health apparatus than ever before. It also made me wonder just how long this particular information pandemic will linger.

The Affordable Care Act defines health literacy as “the degree to which an individual has the capacity to obtain, communicate, process and understand basic health information and services to make appropriate health decisions.” That definition might seem cut-and-dry on the surface, but it’s notable for what it excludes – namely, the stakes and the consequences.

Forget about attempting to parse the administrative intricacies of healthcare insurance. Individuals with low health literacy might not be able to accurately follow instructions from their treating physicians, leading to medication errors and abandoned care plans. Negative health impacts inevitably follow – which, in turn, trigger additional health interventions, taxing an already strained system with longer hospital stays and more readmissions.

The numbers are staggering – and, if we’re being honest with ourselves, a little depressing. According to “Health Literacy in the United States: Enhancing Assessments and Reducing Disparities,” a 2022 report published by the nonprofit Milken Institute, a mere 12 percent of adults living in the United States are proficiently health literate and 14 percent are below basic proficiency. This, the Center for Health Care Strategies estimates, costs the U.S. economy as much as $349 billion per year.

Thus the sheer scope of the problem shouldn’t just matter to beleaguered parents of soon-to-be adolescents. Brand managers and omnichannel marketers, for instance, could soon have to account for a growing comprehension deficit among target audiences.

We might begin to counter low levels of health literacy by rethinking health-related communications, stripping them of medical jargon and adding visual cues and video for younger audiences. Similarly, makers of digital health tools might endeavor to keep their increasingly ubiquitous patient portals and telehealth platforms free of large, daunting blocks of explanatory text.

Healthcare providers themselves might attempt to address literacy gaps by, among other accommodations, incorporating the “teach back” method into their patient consultations. That technique asks patients to repeat the advice they were just given using their own words, thus establishing that they understood it.

As for my formerly ivermectin-curious kid, perhaps we might add some basic health literacy training to the school curriculum. It might not be straightforward to teach younger audiences how to interpret their health data or to self-advocate in medical settings, but that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try. Much like financial literacy training in schools across the country, these represent necessary life skills.

I’m hesitant to frame improving health literacy as a social or moral imperative, as others have done in the recent past. But given that the challenges of navigating the American healthcare system aren’t likely to ease anytime soon, it’s critical that as many people as possible have the information and tools needed to make informed health-related decisions – for themselves as well as for members of their families.

We’re not a particularly healthy society and we’re not going to become one overnight. Addressing gaps in health literacy is an important step toward getting us back on the right path.

What steps should we take as a community to counter low rates of health literacy? Drop us a note at [email protected], join the conversation on X (@KinaraBio) and subscribe on the website to receive Kinara content.