metrics in love

When measuring up isn't enough

Image by Liyi

In school, the kids are learning to measure. How many inches long is the feather? How many Pentel erasers can be lined up to the length of a ruler? Tick marks are assigned to number lines, and number lines are used to inform scientific decision-making.

Metrics take on many forms; it’s no wonder every country isn’t following the same one. Even in my own life, measurements waver across parameters. I measure my weeks by how many Vons waffles I consume, and I track my walks not by blocks but by the number of cool cafes and storefronts I pass. My steps are never uniform, and my pace changes by activity.

When I cook, I eyeball most measurements - not because I’m an expert at deciphering how many tablespoons of sesame oil should be added to my fried rice but because it’s the only way I’ve ever known. Maybe that’s why I’m not a data analyst or a lab scientist. I like creativity and flow in my work, and I shudder to think of spaces where these must be confined, whether by graduated burettes or strict policies.