This is an opinion column.

More than half the adults in America read on a sixth grade level or below, according to the National Literacy Institute.

That means they’re not equipped to enjoy “The Call of the Wild,” by Jack London, or “Holes,” by Louis Sachar. Which is sad.

It means half of Americans can’t read the labels on their prescriptions. Which is terrifying.

It’s worse in Alabama, which remains in the bottom 10 in literacy.

This column, for context, reads at a 7th grade level, according to the Flesch-Kincaid grade level test, which is a tool in Microsoft Word that lets you check readability and assigns a grade level based on the size of words, lengths of sentences and paragraphs, and the like.

The average American reads on a 7th or 8th grade level, according to groups that promote literacy, and I think about that. My last column tested at grade level 6.6, so the average person could take it in. The one before that was grade 3.1, and people really responded to it. I’m well versed in juvenile words.

I’ve tested my columns for decades, for selfish reasons, because I want to be understood. What writer doesn’t want to be read, after all?

A lot of them, as it turns out. And it is devastating.

In contracts, medicine, governmental and legal issues, we are overwhelmed with words. Long, unwieldy sentences thrown together to confuse us, to keep us from reading, to provide some legal cover, to make writers feel smart and readers dumb.

Educators are among the worst. When you get an advanced degree in education they apparently beat the simple English right out of you.

Alabama School Superintendent Eric Mackey’s introduction in the Department of Education Strategic Plan comes in at a grade level of 13.2, so it’s not geared for his students. The report’s paragraph on “customer-friendly services” reads at grade level 21.1. Think about that. After 21 years in school you’re practically a doctor.

It’s not “customer friendly” at all.

It takes a certain something to write about hard things with a seeming ease. But the results can be memorable. The Gettysburg Address was written on a 10th grade level. Despite its 19th century wording.

The “I Have a Dream” speech is written on a 9th grade level, and it rolls through history like a mighty stream.

There’s no point, other than plausible deniability, to writing or speaking something most people cannot read or digest. Politicians get the importance of simplicity. Look at the language of Donald Trump. Even Alabama Gov. Kay Ivey knows how to put it down there where the goats can get it, as they say around here.

But it rarely translates to governing. And government should be clear. Most of the bills filed in the Alabama Legislature read at a level twice what the average American can read.

There ought to be a law. Written without jargon or pretension or attempts at trickery:

“All bills should be written as simply as possible for understanding and ease.”

We probably can’t get a lawmaker to do it.

But government is not the only offender. The corporate world is awash in people who write a lot of words in the hopes you will read none of them. As long as you continue to give them money or data.

Tik Tok’s Access and Use of Services clause – just a part of the long set of terms – is grade 13.9. College level. Pretty high for an app aimed at young people.

Twitter’s rules for using the service check in at grade 18.7, which is close to becoming a lawyer.

Then there are the utilities. Oh, Alabama Power. Its company rules have a paragraph on injuries to customers or their property. It has a grade level of 29.7. You should be able to understand it if you went to school for 30 years.

It gets worse, though. The power company paragraph on billing inaccuracies is only 184 words long, but reads at an astonishing grade level of 77.4. Flesch-Kincaid gives it a readability of zero. I have never seen that.

And don’t even get me started on terms and conditions. If you want to read ATT’s wireless customer agreement, it will take some time. It’s 42,000 words long, which is longer than “The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe” and not nearly as memorable. The ATT grade level is 14.8, so if you’ve had two years of college and plenty of time on your hands you ought to muddle through. But of course you won’t. Which is the point.

Technical writing, of course, is tough. It is even more difficult to write it simply.

But most of these examples aren’t about difficulty. They are intentional.

When your rights are explained to you in ways that you can’t understand, or will put you in a coma when you try, then what is the point, other than to keep the average customer subservient, confused, unprotected and on the hook?

It’s a con. And it needs to change.

John Archibald is a Pulitzer Prize-winning columnist for AL.com.