Numbers Don't Measure Things
More precisely: numbers don't measure what actually matters
I have an issue with numbers.
And it’s not because I wasn’t a math girlie in high school, not because I majored in English and love to read. Math-and-science vs. reading-and-art is a false binary. And I’d guess that for most people, it tracks back to which teachers were competent and skilled and made them feel seen and smart. But anyway.
I don’t think numbers communicate much that’s interesting.
Ask me how many books I read last year. I know the number, but I’d dodge the question.
Generally, we understand that a high number is impressive. Say, fifty books. But is that impressive? What if I only read Ivy and Bean?
Generally, a low number is less impressive. Say, five books. But what if the five books were The Count of Monte Cristo, The Power Broker, Infinite Jest, War and Peace, and Anna Karenina?
If the total number of books wasn’t informative enough, you could break the number into smaller units. How many pages did you read last year? Ivy and Bean is 120 pages. If you read fifty Ivy and Bean books, that’s 6,000 pages. The five chunky books I listed above are 5,966 pages total. Well, okay. Ivy and Bean wins again.
So that didn’t work either! Most people would consider the five really long books to be more impressive. Ivy and Bean is smaller, and there’s pictures. Also, there’s only twelve books total in the series, so to read them four times each would be strange.
You can chop the numbers smaller and smaller, but you’d be wasting your time. If you wanted to talk about books, just talk about books.
Numbers invite comparison.
I don't think comparison is helpful all that often.
We talk about numbers like they tell us something objective.
Say we found out I read more than you. More books, more pages, whatever. What would that tell us?
Honestly? That I have more time than you? That my job is less busy, that I don’t have kids, that I choose to read instead of choosing to do anything else?
I’m happy to point that out. These numbers don’t matter! They don’t measure anything meaningful!
But I’d rather skip the counting. I don’t want to tell you how many books I read. I don’t care how many books you read, unless you care and you want me to say I’m proud of you. I’m happy to, truly. But so often, in conversation, numbers create tension.
I prefer harmony.
Conversation is creative. Collaborative. I don’t want to sound impressive. I don’t want to talk to someone who’s trying to sound impressive. I want to create something. I want to give and receive. I want to know what you care about. I want to compare notes on the wild winds of the world.
Superlatives are like numbers—numbers in language. A superlative is anything with “-est” after or “most” before: smartest, cleanest, prettiest.
Everyone understands that superlatives are not used literally. Someone brings you coffee, you tell them they’re the nicest person on earth. You have a best friend and another best friend in another city and another best friend who’s your sister. We use superlatives in ways that are numerically impossible but fit the situations of reality.
I’m comfortable with this. I think it makes sense. It’s low-stakes. I am able to translate people’s use of a superlative as friendly enthusiasm—I, who notoriously take everything literally.
The problem with numbers is that they give the aura of literal truth, of objectivity. We know that higher numbers are better for most things—football, social media followers, income. Fewer is better if you’re playing social solitaire, or golf, or looking at a scale before you’re read Fat Talk.
More things can be measured now than ever before. The abundance of number-data leads us to think that whatever numbers measures must matter. And so often, it doesn’t.
I don’t remember how many Instagram followers I had before I deleted my Instagram. It was 2015, so it was before half the people you knew had a few thousand. It was the beginning of everything in our life becoming quantifiable, the year Spotify launched the first iteration of Spotify Wrapped. There’s numbers everywhere, and sometimes they’re interesting! I’ve linked Invisible Women in my writing more than almost any other book, and it’s about how data shows us how inequitable the world is.
But sometimes numbers distract us from what actually matters.
And math was hard for me growing up.
So this is a reminder, from your friendly neighborhood bookseller, to be suspicious of numbers.
One more thing—asking someone their “favorite [something]” is a temptingly easy question. But it’s pretty hard to answer, and that’s because it asks for a pure, literal superlative.
“What’s your favorite movie?” is a hard question. The more someone cares about movies, the harder it is.
One question I ask instead is “What surprised you about [this thing you care about]?” It’s more specific and thus easier to answer. There’s also the more-general-but-still-not-as-tricky-as-favorite “What’s a [movie/book/song/part of your job] you love and why?”
Those will get you to the core of conversations faster: ideas, creativity, passion.
And they’ll keep you far, far away from numbers <3
-mp