We’re always talking about metrics.
In the workplace, and especially in tech, the conversation around the importance of measuring what we do is always present. We talk about KPIs, OKRs, dashboards, funnels, retention curves, NPS, velocity, lead time, uptime, SLAs, resolved bugs, open bugs, reopened bugs. We spend time on it. Meetings. Effort. Entire teams are dedicated to it. And it makes sense: what gets measured can be improved, or so the saying goes. And yes, many times that’s true.
But a challenge appears when we take that logic to the extreme.
That extreme is the obsession with measuring everything. The idea that if something doesn’t have a number, it can’t be managed. That if it can’t be quantified, it doesn’t exist. This mindset, even when it starts from a genuine desire to improve, can lead us into a way of working that focuses only on what’s visible, leaving aside everything that doesn’t fit neatly into a spreadsheet. And very often, what doesn’t fit in the spreadsheet is what matters most.
There’s a word for this: quantophrenia. A kind of fever for the quantitative. An almost addictive dependence on numbers. The tricky part is that it doesn’t always show up as a problem. It disguises itself as efficiency, rigor, science. But if it’s not paired with a broader perspective, it can drain meaning from what we do.
In day-to-day work, this can show up in teams that hit all their metrics but feel disconnected from purpose. People who meet every OKR but don’t feel like they’re growing. Initiatives that ship on time and on scope but don’t generate real impact. Feedback reduced to a survey score. Difficult conversations that never happen because “there isn’t enough data.”
All of that reflects a real tension between what can be measured and what can’t. And if we don’t handle that tension with good judgment, it can become costly: demotivation, cynicism, loss of belonging, silent burnout.
There are fundamental aspects of teamwork that don’t have a metric, yet are essential for things to work. Trust, for example. A sense of belonging. The energy you feel when a daily flows. The growth of someone who finally dares to speak up. The pride of seeing your own idea make it to production. The safety of knowing you can make mistakes without fear. All of that matters. A lot. And it doesn’t always show up on dashboards.
This doesn’t mean we should stop measuring. Quite the opposite: measuring is key to improving, creating order, and aligning efforts. But we also need balance. Because when the metric becomes the goal, we lose sight of impact. We optimize indicators without questioning whether they’re still relevant. We become excellent at running faster, without checking whether we’re heading in the right direction.
I believe part of the challenge lies in reclaiming the value of the qualitative. Not as something “soft” or secondary, but as a core input for leadership. Listening to what isn’t being said. Seeing what isn’t on the board. Trusting perception. Noticing weak signals. Showing up with empathy. All of that is also management. It’s also leadership.
And even if it’s uncomfortable, even if there’s no formula for it, that’s what makes the difference.
Getting out of quantophrenia doesn’t mean stopping measurement. It means asking ourselves again why we measure, what kind of value we want to create, what kind of environment we want to build, what kind of team we want to be.
Because very often, the most valuable things don’t have a number. They have a name.
I’d love to hear your take! Leave your comment here :)