, I’ve at all times had a knack for data storytelling. You already know, finding the patterns and constructing visuals that really made sense.
I’d learned the principles, and truthfully, I believed I had all of it found out.
Asking the best questions before you even open your visualization tool, after which specializing in telling one clear story somewhat than a set of metrics.
With all these, I felt like I’d cracked the code.
Little did I do know that was just the straightforward part.
The hard part was getting others to purchase into that simplicity.
What caught me off guard was how often stakeholders thrust back. Within the sense that they are going to ask for more metrics, more breakdowns, and principally more of every part.
And suddenly, you’re stuck between the principles you only learned and the realities of truly shipping a dashboard.
That is the part they don’t let you know about within the tutorials.
This text is about that gap.
I’ll walk you thru what happened once I tried to defend a straightforward dashboard in an actual organization, why stakeholders at all times need to “add every part”, and the strategies I’ve learned for navigating that tension.
Not theory, but actual tactics that survived real meetings.
When you’ve ever simplified a dashboard only to look at it snowball back into chaos, trust me, this one’s for you.
The Stakeholder Problem
I walked into the meeting feeling confident.
My latest dashboard had three clean visualizations: a line chart showing the trend, a bar chart breaking down the important thing drivers, and one KPI card with the metric that really mattered.
My manager pulled it up on the large screen. Ten seconds of scrolling, possibly less.
“That is great,” she said.
“But are you able to add the regional breakdown? And possibly customer lifetime value? Oh, and what in regards to the conversion funnel by product category?”
Oh.
My stomach dropped.
I walked out of that meeting with seven latest requests. Wrote all of them down on a sticky note. I still have that note somewhere, actually.
Math isn’t my strongest skill, but even I could see where this was going. From three charts to 10. That’s quite loads.
I set to work immediately and someway time-traveled back to my first attempt.
It jogged my memory of an uncomfortable truth: knowing the information is one thing, but communicating it well is a totally different skill by itself.
So I did something dangerous. I built two versions.
Version A had every part she asked for: all ten charts, every metric, and multiple filters.
However, version B stayed easy (identical to how I wanted it): three visualizations, one narrative, and a transparent hierarchy.
The following morning, I showed her each.
Version A primary. She scrolled, frowned barely. “This has every part… but I don’t know what to give attention to.”
Then Version B. She leaned in. “Wait. This actually tells me something.”
She went with Version B. But asked me to maintain Version A “just in case.”
That moment taught me something crucial: defending simplicity isn’t about being stubborn. It’s about helping stakeholders see what they lose whenever you add an excessive amount of.
The signal-to-noise ratio principle applies here in the identical way it does in machine learning. If you add too many features, your model overfits and loses predictive power.
If you add too many charts, your dashboard becomes overfit to individual stakeholder requests and loses its narrative focus.
Same problem, different domain.
At the very least, that’s how I give it some thought. I might be overthinking the analogy.
It’s Not Concerning the Charts
It took me longer than I’d prefer to admit to comprehend this, but stakeholders aren’t attempting to make your life difficult. The reality is, they’re just scared.
Petrified of being in a gathering without a solution and doubtless nervous that the one metric they skipped is precisely what someone will ask about.
I ultimately found out that my manager wasn’t asking for ten charts because she thought it will look higher. She was covering her bases and reducing risks. You already know, protecting herself from uncertainty and other things like that.
And it didn’t just end there.
There’s also this trust issue I didn’t initially consider.
Here’s the thing.
If you simplify a dashboard, you’re making judgment calls about what matters and what doesn’t.
Is smart, right? But here’s where it gets tricky.
If stakeholders don’t know you yet, or haven’t seen you make good calls before, they’re not going to trust those judgments. Then that’s once they default to “show me every part so I can resolve.”
It took some time, but once I understood that the requests for more weren’t really about charts, I could start tackling what people were actually nervous about.
People were fearful of being caught without a solution. Plus, they didn’t trust my judgment yet, which was fair.
This took me way too long to determine. But at the very least now I do know what I’m coping with.
Strategies That Worked
Understanding why stakeholders want more is one thing. Knowing what to do about it is totally different.
It took me some time to figure this out, but I’ve found a number of approaches that really help. None of them is ideal, but they work as a rule.
Start the Conversation Before You Construct Anything
This sounds obvious, but I kept skipping it. I’d construct the dashboard first, then attempt to defend my selections later. Backwards.
Now I start with a 15-minute conversation. Well, sometimes it might be less if individuals are busy.
The time doesn’t need to be specific, barely enough to ask: What decision are you attempting to make with this data? Who else will probably be taking a look at it? And what happens if we get this flawed?
Those questions assist in a pair of how.
To start out with, they show you’re interested by their problems, not only your design principles. Empathy is a critical skill in data science, especially whenever you need people to truly use what you construct.
Moreover, they provide you with something to point back to later.
For example, when someone asks for another chart, you possibly can bring the conversation back to the unique goal, and remind them of the choice it supports, the audience it serves, and the chance of getting it flawed.
That shift matters.
Loads.
Because now the conversation isn’t about what be added, it’s about what earns its place.
Construct Trust by Showing, Not Telling
Early in my profession, I’d attempt to persuade individuals with principles. Things like ‘best practices’ for solving problems or navigating specific topics.
Seems? No one really cares. Or possibly they care a tiny bit, but not enough to override their fear of missing something.
So I finished attempting to persuade individuals with words and commenced showing them the impact as a substitute.
I began keeping the great version around, but making the easy version the default.
Then later, I’d track how stakeholders actually used them. And nine times out of ten, they’d use the easy one and never touch the backup.
One time, a VP told me she’d actually forgotten the great version existed. That’s once I knew we were onto something.
Know When to Compromise (and When Not To)
This one’s simpler than it sounds.
After enough meetings like this, I’ve learned to choose my battles. Not every request is value fighting.
If someone wants so as to add another chart and it doesn’t fundamentally break the narrative? Positive. Add it. Save your credibility for the larger issues.
But when a request would turn your focused dashboard into an information dump? That’s once I thrust back.
My approach now’s to comply with add what they’re asking for, but mention I’m concerned it’d muddy the predominant query. Add every part, review it together, and see if it still works.
Final thoughts
Constructing clear dashboards is one skill, but keeping them clear when everyone wants more? Now that’s a totally different challenge.
I used to think it was in regards to the charts. It’s not. It’s about understanding what individuals are actually nervous about and addressing those concerns without turning your dashboard into chaos.
Some days I still get it flawed. I cave too quickly or fight battles that don’t matter. But I’m still learning.
When you’re stuck between what works and what your organization will accept, don’t worry, you’re not alone. We’re all figuring this out.
