Essay
June 18th, 2025
Why Numbers Lie Sometimes
ELLIOT CRANE
ELLIOT CRANE
715 words
5 min. read
In almost every pitch deck there is a slide with a number. “The market is worth $47 billion.” The figure is presented with quiet authority, as if measured like rainfall or the height of a mountain. Investors nod. Founders feel reassured. But what does it actually mean? Not much.
In almost every pitch deck there is a slide with a number. “The market is worth $47 billion.” The figure is presented with quiet authority, as if measured like rainfall or the height of a mountain. Investors nod. Founders feel reassured. But what does it actually mean? Not much.
Markets are not stable objects we can weigh. They are living systems of people, tastes, and habits. They swell and contract with culture, technology, and imagination. When someone claims the “audio market” is a fixed size, they are pretending to capture something that is always in motion. The reality looks less like a pie waiting to be sliced and more like weather—patterns shifting in response to countless forces, impossible to freeze into a neat chart.
Markets are not stable objects we can weigh. They are living systems of people, tastes, and habits. They swell and contract with culture, technology, and imagination. When someone claims the “audio market” is a fixed size, they are pretending to capture something that is always in motion. The reality looks less like a pie waiting to be sliced and more like weather—patterns shifting in response to countless forces, impossible to freeze into a neat chart.
The mistake runs deeper than sloppy numbers. It comes from assuming markets exist in the wild, waiting to be discovered. As if customer demand is a buried treasure that careful analysis can reveal. But people do not behave like constants. What they value changes with context. Netflix did not discover a $50 billion “streaming market”—they altered how people thought about watching television. Uber did not merely take share from taxis—they convinced millions to accept a new idea of transportation. The market followed the behavior, not the other way around.
The mistake runs deeper than sloppy numbers. It comes from assuming markets exist in the wild, waiting to be discovered. As if customer demand is a buried treasure that careful analysis can reveal. But people do not behave like constants. What they value changes with context. Netflix did not discover a $50 billion “streaming market”—they altered how people thought about watching television. Uber did not merely take share from taxis—they convinced millions to accept a new idea of transportation. The market followed the behavior, not the other way around.
This is why market sizing can be dangerous, especially for new ideas. A statistic about the “future size” of a category is really just a chain of guesses: how fast people will adopt, what they will pay, what competitors will build. Each assumption compounds uncertainty, yet the final figure gets presented as fact. The result is a strange comfort—false clarity in place of real strategic thinking.
This is why market sizing can be dangerous, especially for new ideas. A statistic about the “future size” of a category is really just a chain of guesses: how fast people will adopt, what they will pay, what competitors will build. Each assumption compounds uncertainty, yet the final figure gets presented as fact. The result is a strange comfort—false clarity in place of real strategic thinking.
More harmful still, these numbers encourage the wrong mindset. Founders start thinking in terms of capture instead of creation. They imagine carving off a percentage of what exists, instead of designing new behaviors that could reshape the entire field. The entrepreneur who says they are chasing a $12 billion productivity market is already thinking about slices. The one who asks how people’s relationship to work itself might change is on the path to building something bigger.
More harmful still, these numbers encourage the wrong mindset. Founders start thinking in terms of capture instead of creation. They imagine carving off a percentage of what exists, instead of designing new behaviors that could reshape the entire field. The entrepreneur who says they are chasing a $12 billion productivity market is already thinking about slices. The one who asks how people’s relationship to work itself might change is on the path to building something bigger.
Why then do we cling to market statistics? Because numbers make uncertainty feel less frightening. They allow investors to compare ventures on paper, founders to look professional, analysts to publish confident reports. Acronyms like TAM, SAM, SOM give an aura of science, but in practice they are frameworks of belief, not measurement. When you claim that 15% of small businesses will adopt your product, you are not predicting—you are expressing faith in your ability to make them care.
Why then do we cling to market statistics? Because numbers make uncertainty feel less frightening. They allow investors to compare ventures on paper, founders to look professional, analysts to publish confident reports. Acronyms like TAM, SAM, SOM give an aura of science, but in practice they are frameworks of belief, not measurement. When you claim that 15% of small businesses will adopt your product, you are not predicting—you are expressing faith in your ability to make them care.
The companies that transform industries rarely succeed because they chased the right number. They succeed because they noticed shifts in how people behave and positioned themselves to accelerate them. Instagram didn’t take a share of the photography market; it persuaded people that filtered phone photos could become a form of self-expression. The market grew around the idea, not before it.
The companies that transform industries rarely succeed because they chased the right number. They succeed because they noticed shifts in how people behave and positioned themselves to accelerate them. Instagram didn’t take a share of the photography market; it persuaded people that filtered phone photos could become a form of self-expression. The market grew around the idea, not before it.
So what is the alternative? A more honest view—what we might call living market thinking. This perspective accepts that markets are fluid, shaped by evolving behavior. Instead of asking, “How big is the market?” the sharper questions are: What habits are changing? What frustrations are visible but unmet? What new behaviors could emerge if we solved this problem differently? These are not questions a spreadsheet can answer. They require observation, cultural awareness, and imagination.
So what is the alternative? A more honest view—what we might call living market thinking. This perspective accepts that markets are fluid, shaped by evolving behavior. Instead of asking, “How big is the market?” the sharper questions are: What habits are changing? What frustrations are visible but unmet? What new behaviors could emerge if we solved this problem differently? These are not questions a spreadsheet can answer. They require observation, cultural awareness, and imagination.
The signals are often small: workarounds people invent, moments of friction that spark irritation, subtle shifts in what feels normal. Paying attention to these early tremors tells you far more about opportunity than any top-down figure ever could. The best founders are part anthropologist, part strategist, sensing the undercurrents of change before they are visible in reports.
The signals are often small: workarounds people invent, moments of friction that spark irritation, subtle shifts in what feels normal. Paying attention to these early tremors tells you far more about opportunity than any top-down figure ever could. The best founders are part anthropologist, part strategist, sensing the undercurrents of change before they are visible in reports.
The lesson for investors and entrepreneurs alike is simple. Numbers are tidy, but markets are messy. Precision in forecasts is not the same as clarity in direction. Treat market size slides for what they are: a ritual, not a revelation. Real opportunity lies in the ability to recognize and shape new behavior, not in memorizing the scale of yesterday’s categories.
The lesson for investors and entrepreneurs alike is simple. Numbers are tidy, but markets are messy. Precision in forecasts is not the same as clarity in direction. Treat market size slides for what they are: a ritual, not a revelation. Real opportunity lies in the ability to recognize and shape new behavior, not in memorizing the scale of yesterday’s categories.
Markets are not math problems waiting to be solved. They are conversations between people, technologies, and cultures. And like any conversation, they shift as soon as someone introduces a new idea.
Markets are not math problems waiting to be solved. They are conversations between people, technologies, and cultures. And like any conversation, they shift as soon as someone introduces a new idea.
-Crane
-Crane
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Why Numbers Lie Sometimes
Essay
June 18th, 2025