Beyond the numbers

Last month, we were privileged to host 15 Members of Parliament from across the political spectrum as they visited Corps and Centres across the country. These visits offered a valuable opportunity to showcase the incredible work of our frontline staff, advocate for whānau we support, and explore how we can better collaborate locally with electorate offices to better support our communities.

A recurring theme in many of these conversations was “social impact” or measuring the impact of our services. I understand the focus on measuring and data—especially as a data nerd who goes cross-eyed wading through datasets and navigating not-so-user-friendly dashboards. Data is undeniably valuable—it helps tell compelling stories, uncover trends, and identify areas for improvement and opportunity.

But on the other hand, as someone who also has the privilege to sit with our frontline staff and the whanau we support and hear first-hand accounts of the progress and challenges they face highlights a crucial point: Outcomes for those we support aren’t always binary; they’re often progressive and deeply nuanced. For many whānau, progress might not be reflected in a straightforward data point. Instead of a budget completed, it might look like a parent feeling confident enough to schedule their own appointment and attend, or instead of an eviction it looks like a household maintaining a clean environment for an extended period—small yet meaningful victories that show growth, incrementally.

How do we quantify the small wins that hold immense value for the whānau we support? If we focus solely on metrics and numbers, do we risk losing sight of these quieter, incremental forms of progress? Do we discount these steps simply because they don’t immediately align with the binary outcomes defined in our service contracts?

Progress can be likened to a staircase. Not all whānau start their journey at the bottom of the staircase nor on the same step. For some, reaching the top is a straightforward and swift climb. For others, the journey is slower, with pauses and even setbacks along the way. The question becomes: how do we account for those who make meaningful progress but may not reach the top within the prescribed timeframe? Are their efforts dismissed as "failure"?

This raises a critical question for policymakers and government officials focussed on social impact: Are we overlooking the richness of human experience by focusing too narrowly on measurable outcomes? For whānau facing complex challenges like many we support, progress often unfolds gradually, with small victories marking their path upward. If these steps aren’t easily captured in data, do they vanish from the narrative of success?

As much as I value data—and the insights it provides—it doesn’t always tell the whole story. The resilience, determination, the three steps forward but one step back and repeated efforts that drive transformative change can’t always be quantified. Yet, the current climate suggests that if you can’t measure it, we won’t fund it. This emphasis on measurable social impact has its place, but there must be balance.

We need a broader framework for understanding social impact—one that recognizes progress in all its forms. Not every whānau will reach the top of the staircase, but their journey may make it easier for their tamariki or mokopuna to reach the top and hopefully climb higher. This perspective shifts the narrative from one of "success or failure" to one that values the steps taken, the pauses, the setbacks, and the resilience to keep moving forward.

As we continue these discussions with MPs and the government, the challenge is clear: How can we champion a more holistic approach to social impact? One that values both measurable outcomes and the lived experiences that define meaningful change. If we embrace this perspective, we not only honour the whānau we serve but also create space for policies that reflect and address the complexity of progress.