Have you ever been halfway through explaining something to a friend when suddenly… BAM! Out of seemingly nowhere, the answer hits you like a caffeinated squirrel?
It’s like your brain was holding out on you until you started talking. And then, once the words started coming out, everything just… clicked.
Programmers have a name for this: rubber duck debugging. They’ll literally explain their code to a rubber duck sitting on their desk. Inevitably, somewhere between “Okay, so first I call this function…” and “Wait… why does this variable even exist?” the lightbulb turns on the programmer is able to get right back to hacking the planet (or… you know… making their awesome new app… whichever…)
But this psychological phenomenon isn’t just for programmers. Students, managers, artists, and yes, even psychologists can use it. In fact, psychologists have studied it and given it a much fancier name: The Explanation Effect.
And today, we’re going to dive into why explaining things out loud makes you smarter, how you can use it, and why one company I worked with had (no joke) a dedicated mannequin room for exactly this purpose.
So… What Exactly Is the Explanation Effect?
The Explanation Effect is the idea that you understand something better when you explain it whether that’s to another person or to yourself. It’s kind of like the brain’s way of saying, “If you can teach it, you own it.”
It’s not just a fun quirk of the brain; it’s a well-documented phenomenon in educational psychology. When you explain, you’re not just repeating information, but you’re actually actively reconstructing it in your mind so it makes sense to someone else. And in doing so, you end up making it make more sense to yourself.
Psychologists sometimes call this self-explaining (when you talk it through to yourself) or learning by teaching (when you’re preparing to explain it to others). In the education world, it overlaps with something called the protégé effect, which is the boost you get when you learn something with the intention of teaching it. In the tech world, it’s better known as rubber duck debugging.
Different names, same superpower: explaining forces you to take the messy pile of thoughts in your head and turn it into something clear, logical, and (hopefully) coherent. And while you’re doing that, your brain is working overtime to fill in the blanks, connect ideas, and strengthen the memory.
It’s in that process that the magic happens and you discover what you really know and what you don’t.
It’s like the difference between humming a song in your head versus performing it for an audience at karaoke night. When you perform, you suddenly realize where the tricky parts are (and just how tricky they actually are!), and you practice them until you nail them.
The Psychology Behind the Magic
So why does explaining work so ridiculously well for helping us understand a subject better and problem-solve in real time? Let’s peek under the hood.
When you explain something, your brain isn’t just retrieving facts like a dusty old filing cabinet. It’s running a full cognitive workout!
First, you have to retrieve the information from memory, which is already a proven way to strengthen learning (this is called retrieval practice). But you can’t just stop there, because you also have to organize it so it makes sense in real time. That means you’re engaging in deep processing, connecting the dots between new material and what you already know.
Then comes metacognition, which is thinking about your own thinking. As you explain, you notice where you’re confident, where you’re shaky, and where you’re completely making stuff up (and hopefully catching yourself before you pass that off as fact).
Finally, there’s error detection. When you try to explain something clearly, the holes in your understanding light up like neon signs. You can’t gloss over them the way you might when you’re silently reading or passively listening.
Cognitive scientists and fans of constructivist learning theory alike both like to say that “learning is a process of making meaning.” Explaining is basically meaning-making on steroids. You’re not just taking in information, you’re actively reshaping it into something that makes sense to both you and your audience.
And yes, your “audience” can be a friend, a classmate, a pet, or a mannequin in a windowless office. The brain doesn’t care who’s listening; it cares that you are explaining.
Real-Life Examples That Aren’t Just for Psych Nerds
The Explanation Effect isn’t some abstract theory that only shows up in a lab. Once you know what to look for, you’ll see it absolutely everywhere: in classrooms, kitchens, boardrooms, and yes, even in front of rubber ducks.
Let’s take a look at a few everyday scenarios where the magic happens, and the psychology behind why they work.
The Student
It’s the night before your psychology midterm. You’ve got your notes spread out like a crime scene investigation, and you decide to quiz yourself by explaining Piaget’s stages of cognitive development to your roommate.
You start strong:
“Okay, so first is the sensorimotor stage: babies learning through their senses. Then preoperational, that’s when symbolic thinking kicks in. Then concrete operational is logical thinking about concrete stuff…”
And then you hit the formal operational stage and stall. “Uh… abstract reasoning? Hypothetical thinking? Wait, what is this stage again?”
That moment of hesitation is your brain’s error detection system firing. You’ve just uncovered a knowledge gap you didn’t know you had. You look it up, fill in the missing details, and when you try again, you nail it.
This is retrieval practice in action! Remember that pulling information from memory strengthens it. The pause you felt? That’s metacognition, your brain realizing, “We don’t quite have this part nailed down yet.”
The Everyday Chef
You’re in your kitchen, teaching a friend how to make your famous lasagna without looking at the recipe. You’re breezing through it like a Food Network pro:
“Layer the noodles, spread the ricotta, sprinkle the mozzarella…”
But then you get to the sauce…
“Okay, so you add oregano, basil, and… uh… something else? It’s green… not spinach… oh no.”
You laugh it off, check the recipe, and realize it’s parsley. Next time, it’s way more likely that you won’t forget because you had to actively retrieve and then correct the information.
When you explain, you’re not just idly recalling facts, but you’re instead reorganizing them in real time. That reorganization strengthens the neural connections, and the correction you made becomes a stronger memory than if you’d just read the recipe again.
The Professional
As we mentioned, in programming, it’s called rubber duck debugging: explaining your code line-by-line to a duck, a plant, or anything that doesn’t talk back. Somewhere in the middle of your explanation, you realize your logic is flawed and you fix it.
But what if you’re not a coder?
For non-programmers, picture this: You’re a marketing manager with a big pitch tomorrow. You rehearse it to an empty chair in your office.
At first, it feels silly. But as you talk, you hear yourself say, “And this campaign will increase engagement by… wait… where did I get that number?”
You double-check your data, fix the stat, and walk into your meeting the next day with confidence.
Expectancy effects play a role here. Research by Bargh & Schul (1980) shows that when you expect to explain something, you process it more carefully from the start. The act of explaining also forces error detection, which gives you a chance to correct mistakes before they matter.
The Mannequin Room Story
Okay, now that we’ve covered all of that, let’s have a quick little storytime about my creepy mannequin encounter.
A few years ago, I was consulting at a company, and there was this one room I’d pass almost every day. And without fail, almost every time, I’d hear someone inside passionately arguing or explaining something. Loudly.
But here’s the weird part: I never heard anyone respond.
This went on for months. I’d walk by and hear “No, that’s not how it works!” or “Okay, but if we do that, then what happens to X?!”
And then… silence.
Finally, one day, I couldn’t take it anymore. I peeked inside.
The room had exactly one thing in it: a life-sized mannequin like you’d see at a department store.
As it turns out, this was their official “rubber duck debugging” station. Employees would come in, vent, explain, or problem-solve out loud to the mannequin. No interruptions, no judgment, and just a plastic coworker with perfect listening skills.
And honestly? It worked.
Creepy room vibes aside, people swore by it!
How to Use the Explanation Effect (Without Creeping Out Your Neighbors)
Here’s how to try it yourself:
Pick something you’re learning. It could be anything: a psychological theory, a skill, a recipe. Now, pretend that you’re teaching it to a total beginner. You can use a friend, a pet, a houseplant, or yes… even a mannequin if you really want to go full “method” with this exercise.
The key is to explain it out loud without looking at your notes. When you get stuck, that’s your brain waving a little flag saying, “Hey! We don’t actually know this part yet!” Then you go back, fill in the gaps, and try again.
Do this a few times and you’ll be absolutely amazed at just how much more confident you feel!
The Science vs. the Myth
Let’s clear something up: the Explanation Effect is not just “talking out loud.”
If that were true, every person narrating their grocery shopping (“Eggs… bread… oh, look, ice cream’s on sale!”) would be a certified genius by now.
The real magic isn’t in the act of speaking. The real power lies in the quality and structure of the explanation.
What the Myth Gets Wrong
- Myth: Any verbalizing = learning.
- Reality: Mindless rambling doesn’t help. In fact, it can even possibly reinforce wrong ideas if you’re not careful.
- Why: Learning happens when you actively organize information, connect it to what you already know, and check it for accuracy.
What the Science Actually Says
The Explanation Effect works because it forces active processing, which is a concept supported by decades of cognitive psychology research.
- Michelene Chi et al. (1994) found that students who explained concepts to themselves while studying outperformed those who didn’t. But here’s the kicker: the explanations had to be elaborative, meaning they connected new ideas to prior knowledge and clarified relationships between concepts.
- Fiorella & Mayer (2013) reviewed multiple studies on the learning-by-teaching approach and found that preparing to teach (and then actually explaining) deepens understanding more than simply restudying the material.
- Bargh & Schul (1980) showed that when people expect to explain something, they process it more carefully from the start. Your brain basically goes, “We’re going to have to say this out loud later, so let’s get it right now.”
Why It Works (The Fun Version)
Think of your brain like a messy kitchen drawer (you know the one I’m talking about).
You know there’s a corkscrew in there somewhere under the old takeout menus, chip clips, and bags of dead batteries you were going to dispose of properly 5 years ago. But right now, you want to open a bottle of wine and can’t do that until you dump everything out of the drawer and sort through it at least well enough to find your corkscrew.
Explaining something is that “dump everything out” moment, and in the process, you realize you’ve been keeping a broken can opener and an emergency hoard of Taco Bell sauce packets for no reason.
When you explain something:
- You retrieve it from memory (strengthening the neural pathways).
- You reorganize it so it makes sense.
- You evaluate it, spotting errors or gaps.
That’s why explaining to a mannequin or rubber duck works so well, but only if you’re genuinely trying to make the mannequin “understand.” Otherwise, you’re just talking to a plastic roommate.
Tomato Takeaway
If you want to learn faster, remember more, and sound like you actually know what you’re talking about, explain it.
Explain it to a friend. Explain it to your dog. You can even explain it to a mannequin in a creepy, echoey room. The point is that you need to explain what you’re talking about out loud and as if you were teaching it to a total beginner.
Whoever or whatever you choose, the Explanation Effect works because it forces your brain to organize, recall, and connect information, and in doing so, you actually learn it.
So here’s your challenge: take something you learned today and explain it to someone else.
Or something else.
I won’t judge.
Fueled by coffee and curiosity, Jeff is a veteran blogger with an MBA and a lifelong passion for psychology. Currently finishing an MS in Industrial-Organizational Psychology (and eyeing that PhD), he’s on a mission to make science-backed psychology fun, clear, and accessible for everyone. When he’s not busting myths or brewing up new articles, you’ll probably find him at the D&D table or hunting for his next great cup of coffee.