Measuring What Matters

“You can slice and dice your data to come up with hidden insights,” boasted Swami while sipping his coffee the other day. He had come to the café straight from his office after a meeting with one of the data vendors.

“Raichand was impressed,” he continued, talking about how the vendor presentations had made a positive impact on his boss.

“Based on this, he is going to set goals for everyone,” Swami’s tone now turned to worry. “Utilisation by practice, sales by solution, attrition by manager and many more such measures.”

Jigneshbhai listened to all the corporate jargon. While he had never worked in a traditional job, he had some insights on them thanks to Swami and his constant cries for help. He broke into a smile when Swami explained the updates from his meeting.

“Nice measures. What will you do with them?” He asked.

Swami scratched his chin. So far he had only seen the measures and, like his boss, had been impressed by them. He hadn’t thought about what he will do with them, though he was worried that Raichand will do something with them.

“I guess we will track them on a regular basis,” he poohed.

“Monthly?” Jigneshbhai wondered.

“Maybe weekly too. With these measures in Raichand’s hand, you can never say. He may even track daily, God forbid. You know how he is,” Swami pondered aloud with a pensive look. A sudden realisation of the imminent dangers hit him. His enthusiasm waned from the levels it had been since he came.

“And then?” Jigneshbhai asked further.

“And then what?” Swami posed a counter question.

“After tracking?” Jigneshbhai clarified.

“Well after tracking? Err..,” Swami fumbled and paused. “Someone will follow up. We will have meetings to discuss status,” he said.

“As in?” Jigneshbhai probed with a wink in his eye.

“Well as in, why they are not on target,” Swami said. And then with a sly look, he added, “And Raichand will beat up everyone on the measures.”

“No wonder he was impressed. It gives him something to do that he loves,” Jigneshbhai remarked with a twinkle in his eye.

Swami and I looked at each other. Swami wondered if his joy after the impressive vendor presentation was a misplaced bout of happiness. It was definitely short-lived.

Jigneshbhai focused back on drinking his coffee. For a change, he also bit into Swami’s favourite double chocolate muffin, while we were lost in thought.

Swami was the first to speak, as always. He started this time with a question. Or a rhetorical one, so to speak.

“But we have to measure something, isn’t it?” he said.

“Yes, something. Not that these are not important though,” Jigneshbhai looked up from the muffin and remarked. “But these are not all that matter. Like this muffin and its measures.”

Swami and I were bewildered. Jigneshbhai has this silly habit of getting frivolous stuff into serious topics. Like he got this petty muffin into the serious matter of corporate performance measures. Swami didn’t receive this side-tracking well.

“What’s this muffin got to do with Raichand and his measures?” Swami enquired in an agitated tone.

“Look here,” Jigneshbhai picked up the muffin’s packaging silently, and pointed to something. He twitched his eyes and read out from the small print.

“236 calories, carbohydrate 18 g, protein 2 g, fat 5 g. Contains added flavours, cocoa, edible oil…etc. And there’s a list of stuff here,” he said.

“That’s all the ingredients and their measures,” Swami said. “It’s important.”

“Yes, of course,” Jigneshbhai nodded in agreement. “But not a word on taste,” he added. “Why? Because it can’t be measured.”

Swami and I glanced at the package and broke into a smile.

“And the taste is what really matters,” Jigneshbhai said. “Do you really care about the slicing and dicing?” he asked.

For once, all three of us agreed on that.

“Well, that’s true. But unless you have all the ingredients in the right proportion, will the taste be right?” Swami asked.

Jigneshbhai and I looked at each other. I thought Swami had a point, and perhaps, stumped Jigneshbhai this time. But I was wrong, as I soon found out.

“Well, you are right. But taste is different for different people, isn’t it? What is good taste for one isn’t good for another. So even with the right ingredients, all you measure is consistency of taste. Not whether the taste is good,” Jigneshbhai said. Swami and I couldn’t beat Jigneshbhai on logic, for sure.

“That’s because, in reality, taste cannot be measured. It can only be experienced,” he added.

Swami and I looked at each other and wondered if anyone could come up with a taste-o-meter to solve our problems. Maybe Raichand will put them in his measures if it is invented.

“So are you saying Raichand shouldn’t measure?” Swami asked.

“Well, I didn’t say that. But in measuring the ingredients, he ends up spoiling the taste,” Jigneshbhai said, and started munching his muffin.

That’s when I noticed that Deja started barking from the adjoining table. Swami quickly got a pen and paper from the waiter and jotted down what he said.

“We measure matter,

Because matter can be measured.

But matter is not all that matters,

Because what matters cannot be measured.”

Swami and I pondered over it while Jigneshbhai smiled biting back into his muffin.

Happiness comes from what cannot be measured and that’s what really matters.

***