I’ll admit it—I’ve fallen for it too.
Not the “fluent in 3 months” nonsense, but the temptation to overpromise. To make the course sound a little shinier. To frame the outcome in a way that sounds, well… irresistible. It’s not easy being a teacher in a world where your work is packaged and sold like a miracle skincare routine—just apply daily and watch transformation happen!
Lately, the volume has gone up. Everywhere I look, there’s a new course claiming you’ll master English overnight, pass the IELTS in a month, or speak like a native after a few lessons. I get it—competition is fierce, students are busy and impatient, and social media algorithms reward the outrageous.
This kind of marketing noise is more than just annoying—it’s quietly distorting what we stand for. The deeper work, the real human process of learning, gets lost in the echo of empty promises.
And the impact? It’s not just theoretical—it’s showing up in our classrooms, in our students, and in ourselves.
It hurts students, who are led to expect instant results, and then struggle when real progress feels slower and less linear than they were told.
It hurts teachers, who are stuck between overblown expectations and the pedagogical reality that meaningful learning takes time.
And it hurts the credibility of our field, which starts to look more like late-night infomercials than a profession grounded in research and practice.
I think we’re better than that. I know we’re better than that.
What if we put transparency at the heart of our practice? What if we told students the truth—not to scare them off, but to show them what’s actually possible when they commit, when they reflect, when they show up again and again? That progress isn’t linear, but it is real.
We can lead with real stories. We can explain the journey, not just the destination. And we can push for ethical standards that put people—learners, teachers, and the integrity of our profession—before profit.
Because hype fades. But trust? That builds over time. Just like language.
Tell me. How are you navigating this tension in your own work? Do you ever feel the pressure to promise more than you can deliver?
Let me know—I’d love to hear from you.
Whenever my students ask about how long it takes to become fluent, I say: I can't make any promises about the time, because learning takes time. How much time do you have to study? I also explain about the average amount of hours needed to go through each level and say that It depends more on them than on us, teachers.
I think every teacher who runs their own business has already thought "do I have to promise what I can't deliver in order to sell more and have a better life?". Looks like we're being stupid in not doing that, because that's what the smart ones do! It's good to hear such words from a teacher who has built a respectful school, not only a successful business full of magical formulas.