Why KPI Are Useless

The Measurability of Nothing

At Globexhaust (motto: “If You Can’t Measure It, Pretend You Can”), management has found religion - and its name is data.

This quarter’s sacred initiative is The KPI Enhancement Programme, designed to “instil accountability and visibility across all functions”.

What it actually instilled was panic, despair, and a spreadsheet so large it caused three laptops and one middle manager to crash.

The Head of Strategic Insights sent a communication to announce the initiative:

“We’re excited to embark on a new data-driven journey towards operational excellence. Each department will now define measurable KPIs aligned with Globexhaust’s strategic pillars”

We didn’t know we had strategic pillars. Barry from Procurement asked if they were load-bearing.

Naturally, this called for a workshop. We gathered in the conference room - a graveyard of dying enthusiasm - where Sharon from HR handed out templates titled:

“SMART KPIs: Specific, Measurable, Achievable, Relevant, Time-Bound”

Nigel from Finance immediately asked, “Can we also have AMBITIOUS KPIs?”
Sapphire, our ever-returning consultant from PurposeWorks Collective, gasped like he’d just cured capitalism.

“Yes! Let’s stretch our potential!”.

I muttered, “It’s already stretched beyond breaking”.

“Pardon?” Sapphire asked, with a look of genuine curiosity on her face.

“Nothing” I replied, more dejected than ever.

The rules were clear: every action, thought, and bodily function must now have a measurable output.

Here’s what we ended up with:

• HR: “Increase employee engagement by 12%” (Measured via a survey nobody reads)

• Finance: “Reduce the time spent cursing the reporting system by 8%”

• Procurement: “Optimise synergy outcomes” (no one knows what that means, not even Barry)

We were also given individual KPIs, mine was: “Enhance cross-functional operational alignment by 5%”.

I asked what that meant for my actual job. My manager replied, “It means you’re aligned, and you have to get others to align too”.

Every Monday morning, we now endure the KPI Sync Call, where we share “data-driven insights”:

Nigel presents a graph so dense with lines it looks like modern art. Sharon gives updates about “engagement uplift trajectories”. I share screenshots of spreadsheets formatted to look impressive but containing mostly zeros.

Barry, bless him, made a pie chart showing “Percentage of Time Pretending to Work on KPIs”. The largest slice was 100%.

Then came the auditors - sorry, the Performance Champions - a team of clipboard-wielding zealots who roam the office, asking things like:

“What’s your current metric of success?”.

The correct answer is to repeat a random buzzword with conviction.

“I’m currently driving value visibility”.
They’ll nod, scribble something, and move on.

Barry once told them his KPI was “number of coffees consumed before the next restructure”. They wrote it down.

To track progress, leadership introduced the KPI Dashboard, a wall-mounted screen displaying performance metrics in real time.

It flashes red whenever a department underperforms. Procurement has been glowing crimson for six consecutive weeks. Sharon covers it with a potted plant to “reduce anxiety visibility”.

Every morning, someone inevitably asks, “Who’s responsible for that dip?”. The answer, universally: “The system”.

At quarter end, we gathered for our performance review. The CEO congratulated us on “embracing accountability culture” and announced that overall KPI achievement was 78% to target.

When someone asked what that meant, he replied, “It’s trending positively”.

Translation: no idea.

KPIs were meant to create clarity. Instead, they’ve become the corporate equivalent of astrology - vague metrics retroactively interpreted to justify whatever story leadership wants to tell.

They measure everything except what matters: sanity, morale, and how many people fantasise daily about working in a garden centre.

Corporations don’t want truth. They want numbers that look like progress. And we, loyal data-points that we are, keep feeding the illusion one spreadsheet at a time.

Until then, my KPI remains simple: survive another quarter without hurling my laptop out the window.