Every corporation I ever wrote for had a quarterly report, a ritual of numbers dressed as narrative. Every county I ever lived in had a fair, a ritual of narratives disguised as numbers on ribboned pies. Both claimed to measure performance. Only one had a livestock competition.

The report told you the margin. The fair told you who could raise a hog that looked like it was aware of its destiny. I have watched executives praise "market resilience" in a conference room and watched Miss Delores praise a pumpkin at the fair with the same tone. The difference was the pumpkin had earned it.

When you have spent decades in financial services and corporate communications, you learn to respect the difference between a story that looks good and a story that is true. The fair doesn't bother with the first kind. The quarterly report cannot survive the second.