What belongs on your homepage, section by section

A homepage has five jobs, and they run in order. Promise, problem, path, proof, invitation. Each section answers the question the visitor is holding when they arrive at it. The five arrange clarity, proof, and a single next step on the page a visitor meets first.

Placement decides who reads what. Nielsen Norman Group's eyetracking work found that 57% of viewing time is spent above the fold. The first two screenfuls take 74% of it, and the first three take 81%. Whatever you put fourth is read mostly by people you have already persuaded. The study covers general web pages across many industries. Take it as the shape of attention, and measure your own site before trusting the figure on it.

The promise: name the reader and the work in the first screen

The first screen answers two questions. Who is this for, and what do they get.

A headline that names the client and the outcome does that work. A tagline does not. "Clarity. Courage. Results." tells a visitor nothing about whether to keep reading. Under the headline, one sentence on how you deliver the outcome. Beside it, one button.

Your navigation is part of the promise, because a reader scans it before reading anything else. Nielsen Norman Group's menu guidance is blunt about labels: menus are no place for invented words or internal jargon. Call the services page Services. Save the coined name for the method itself, deeper in the site.

On a phone this first screen is close to the whole decision. Many visitors read it and choose whether the rest is worth a scroll.

The problem: recognition, without twisting the knife

The second section shows the reader you understand the situation they are in. Two or three sentences, in the words they would use.

Copywriting splits on how hard to press here. Direct-response teaching says name the pain, agitate it, then present the solution. Other practitioners argue that agitation is coercive and unnecessary, and that recognition does the same job without the manipulation.

For an accomplished buyer, recognition is enough. They know their problem better than you do. A paragraph reminding a managing partner that business development is hard reads as a sales technique. It costs the trust the promise just earned.

The exception is genuine urgency. Someone with water coming through a ceiling needs the page to name that situation sharply. Sharp naming is how they confirm they are in the right place.

The path: what working together looks like

The third section tells the reader what happens if they go ahead. Three or four steps, one line each.

This is the section most often missing. An agency that builds these pages counts a missing plan among the failures that keep homepages flat. Its finding is that the framework only moved numbers once it became page architecture.

Say the concrete things. What the first conversation is. What you need from them. How long the work takes. Whether they keep working with you afterward. A buyer weighing a serious engagement is trying to picture the next eight weeks. A page that leaves the picture blank leaves them to imagine the worst version.

Keep it to the shape. The detail belongs on the service page, and the homepage's job is to get the right person there.

The proof: a sample, and a door to the rest

Homepage proof is a sample. Use one client result stated in numbers, or two lines from a named client. Put it directly under the claim it supports.

A logo wall does less for an expert practice than people expect. A buyer usually recognizes one or two names and reads the rest as decoration. One story they can check does more than a dozen marks they cannot.

Where the craft of a usable testimonial needs work, that is a separate job. The homepage decision is quantity and placement. Carry enough to earn the click through to the full case, and no more.

A practice with no clients to cite yet has a substitute. Describe how you work in enough detail that the description itself is evidence. Specificity reads as experience, because someone who has not done the work cannot produce it.

The invitation: one door, described

The last section asks. It works when the reader knows exactly what happens after the click.

Name the action in the button. Say what follows in the line underneath: a form of six questions, or a 30-minute call, answered within a day. Repeat the promise beside the button. A reader who reaches the bottom has scrolled past the headline. They decide on what is in front of them.

Price belongs in this stretch too, for a practice that publishes one. A serious buyer looks for the number before they write. A stated figure does its filtering before the call.

What to leave off the homepage

Five things earn their place somewhere else:

  • the mission statement, which answers a question few visitors are asking
  • the awards row, unless the buyer's field treats one of them as a gate
  • the blog feed, which sends a decided reader back into browsing
  • the team grid, which belongs with the bios
  • stock photography of handshakes and skylines, which tells a reader the pictures are borrowed

Each of these consumes a screenful, and screenfuls are the scarce resource on the page.

Where the order changes

The sequence is a starting point, and three situations move it.

An urgent-need practice raises the invitation. When someone lands mid-emergency, the phone number belongs in the header and the problem section can be a sentence.

A referral-fed practice shortens the problem section. Someone who arrives with your name from a colleague already believes the category and is checking you. The early screens can go to proof and path.

A single-service practice merges promise and path. When there is one engagement, describing it is the promise. A separate path section then restates what the reader just read.

Draft the flow before you write the copy

Write the job of each section in one sentence before writing a word of copy. What question does this answer, and what does the reader know by the time they reach it. That document is the page; the copy is what fills it.

Teams doing this in 2026 write the section flow with a model first, working from their own strategy notes. The result then goes to whatever tool builds the page. It works because ordering sections is a reasoning task, and the model is good at it. A designer who tested several AI site builders this year found the pages came out reading like each other. That is what happens when the model supplies the sentences as well as the order.

The sentences have to come from you. Which questions each section answers depends on what your buyers arrive worried about, and no model has met them.

Five sections, one question each, in an order the reader can follow. Promise so they know they are in the right place. Problem so they know you understand it. Path so they can picture the work. Proof so they can believe it. Invitation so the next move takes no thought. A section answering a question the reader has not reached yet gets scrolled past. Everything under it goes too.

Brett Wharton, looking ahead