The numbers exist, but in four tools
Sales in one, hours in another, expenses at the accountant's. Assembling them takes half a day, so it happens monthly, so it's too late.
A dashboard is worth only the decisions it changes. The test is one question in front of each metric: if this number doubles tomorrow, what do I do differently? Those with no answer are decoration, and they're what makes dashboards unreadable within six months.
Sales in one, hours in another, expenses at the accountant's. Assembling them takes half a day, so it happens monthly, so it's too late.
A spreadsheet rebuilt every month, by copy-paste. The report is reliable to the extent that the person was focused that day.
Twenty-four charts across three tabs. Too much information kills decisions as surely as too little — and it's the most common failure mode.
Which decisions do you make weekly, and what's missing to make them sooner? The metrics follow from that list, never the other way round.
What doesn't fit on one screen doesn't get looked at daily. The rest exists and stays available, but it doesn't compete for attention with what matters.
A metric nobody can explain stops being believed at the first surprise. The calculation is visible, and it can be challenged — that's how it becomes trusted.
This isn't for you if your underlying data isn't yet captured reliably: a dashboard fed by partial entry displays wrong numbers with great confidence, which is worse than no numbers at all. The right order is to make capture reliable first.
No sales page writes this section. That's precisely why it's here: it saves you a thirty-minute call, and saves us an engagement we'd decline anyway.
Often yes, and it's a good answer when the data is already clean and centralised. The real work is rarely the display: it's pulling data from four systems and agreeing on its definition. That part remains whatever visualisation tool you pick.
You leave with what we saw, in writing, even if we never work together.