Why "moron"

You shouldn't have to be a genius to understand what you're putting in your body.

Walk down the supplements aisle and read the boxes. Adaptogenic. Bioavailable. Clinically inspired. Synergistic complex. None of these words are doing what words are supposed to do. They exist so you'll feel underqualified to ask an obvious question — like how much of the thing is actually in there.

That confusion isn't an accident, and it isn't a marketing failure either. It works. A shopper who feels slightly stupid doesn't check the dose. A shopper who doesn't check the dose will happily pay for "300mg of extract" without ever asking 300mg of what — because an extract can be 98% of the active ingredient or 30%, and the label is under no obligation to tell you which.

So we named the company MORON. It's a flag planted on the customer's side of the counter: you're not the idiot here. The product should be simple enough that the least invested person in the room can understand exactly what they bought and why. If it isn't, that's our failure — not your reading comprehension.

The joke is always aimed at the category. Never at you.

Everything else follows from that. Full doses, because a hidden dose is a small dose. Plain English for every ingredient, because if we can't explain it simply we probably shouldn't be selling it. Third-party tests published whether or not they're flattering, because "trust us" is what everyone else says.

The name is funny. The formula, the dosing and the testing are not remotely funny — they're the most boring, careful part of the business, and that's exactly the point. A brand called MORON has to be twice as rigorous to be taken seriously, which is a useful thing to have permanently written on your own front door.