The 18-to-1 gap that a zigzag closed to 1.6
Showing the misleading chart
Every pest complaint New Yorkers made to 311 in 2025, on one axis that starts at zero, ends above its tallest bar, and quietly deletes the 28,000 complaints in between. Rodent complaints outnumber pigeon complaints 17.8 to 1; the chart draws the rodent bar 1.6 times the pigeon bar. Slide the break up or down the page and the same five numbers draw 7.0, 8.6 or 15.2 — never 93.7.
01The claim
Rodent is not the whole business. Here is citywide demand for pest work, measured the only way anybody can measure it: every pest complaint New Yorkers made to 311 in 2025, exactly as the Health Department logged it. One complete calendar year, one agency, one unit — a service request — and every complaint type the department files as a pest, all five of them on a single chart. Nothing sampled, nothing weighted, nothing set aside, and the number printed on top of every bar. The axis starts at zero, as an axis under bars must. And read it and the trade-press story falls apart. Rodent leads, certainly, but it is not the runaway everyone describes: pigeon waste sits just behind it at 1.6 times back, standing water and bees are within reach, and mosquito — a seasonal line the firm does not staff at all — is on the same chart as the rest. The recommendation to the board follows: two mosquito technicians and a dedicated pigeon crew for FY27.
02The trick
Every count on the slide is right, the year is complete, the unit never changes, and the axis really does start at zero. It also stops at 2,000, resumes at 30,000, and marks the 28,000 complaints it dropped in between with a band of zigzag most people read as tidying-up. That band is the whole chart. A bar makes one promise — that its length is proportional to its value — and the promise cannot survive a hole in the scale, because the lengths on either side of the hole are no longer counting the same thing. Measure the drawing and the damage is exact. The rodent bar stands 1,006 pixels above the baseline in the published image; the pigeon bar stands 615. That is 1.6 to 1, for counts of 31,312 and 1,756, which are 17.8 to 1. Against the mosquito bar’s 117 pixels the rodent bar draws 8.6 to 1, for a true ratio of 93.7 to 1. There is a second knob in the same zigzag, and it is the one people miss: the two halves do not run at the same rate. Below the break, 1,000 complaints are worth 350 pixels of this image; above it, 165. The top of the chart is compressed 2.1 times against the bottom, so even within the rodent bar the ink is not one currency. And the ratio the reader takes away is not a fact about the data at all — it is a layout choice. Give the lower band most of the page and the same five counts draw rodent at 7.0 times the mosquito bar; put the break where this slide put it and they draw 8.6; push it high and they draw 15.2. Not one of those is 93.7. The uncomfortable part is how much the slide gets right on the way past. Zero-based axis, whole year, one agency, one unit, every category present, every number printed — six checks a careful reader would run, all six passed. Being a break rather than a truncation is exactly what lets it through: truncation chops the bottom off and confesses by starting at 94.6, while a break keeps the zero and the top and takes only the middle, which is where the difference happened to live. (The slide is our own demonstration, drawn in the manner of a board pack. The complaint counts are real, taken from the city’s open data.)
03The fix
Draw it on one zero-based axis and the picture is dull in the way findings often are: the rodent bar runs the length of the panel and the other four are slivers against it — 5.6% of it, 4.1%, 1.8%, 1.1% — because rodent complaints outnumber the other four put together by exactly eight to one. There is only one pest complaint in New York City, and it has a tail. That is the sentence the break was inserted to avoid printing, and it is the one the board needed. Then, if the small lines genuinely deserve reading, give them a second panel at their own zero-based scale rather than a gap in the first one, and say on it how far off the panel the big one sits — here, 31,312, or 15.7 times the panel’s own ceiling. Two axes plainly labelled beat one axis quietly interrupted: the reader can see precisely where the comparison stops, and inside each panel a length means something again. The second panel is where the real business intelligence turns up, incidentally, since at that scale pigeon waste is visibly 5.3 times mosquito, which the broken chart could not show either. The check that catches this in the wild takes about five seconds and needs no arithmetic beyond a subtraction. Find the break, read the tick immediately below it and the tick immediately above it, and take one from the other. Here that is 28,000 — against a lower half that covers 2,000 in total, and against a tallest bar of 31,312, of which the missing stretch is 89%. When more scale is absent than present, nothing on the page is proportional to anything and the only honest way to read the chart is off the labels, which is to say off a table wearing a chart’s clothes. Worth knowing, too, when the break is merely a nuisance rather than a lie: a line or a dot plot encodes position rather than length, so a clearly marked gap in one of those does less harm. Under bars there is no version that works. And the seasonality the slide waves at is its own small lesson in reading the numbers rather than the shapes — 334 mosquito complaints in a year is 1.6 a day across April to October and exactly none from November to March, against 86 rodent complaints a day, every day, all year.