Show The Arithmetic

A number nobody can check is an opinion with a decimal point in it. So every award this movement publishes about a named politician carries a page showing how it was reached: each act, what it counted for, and the division that produced the total. There are two such pages, because there are two bodies of evidence and they never mix.

Two derivation pages sit either side of a wall: the award invoice divides one column by another, the Flamingo math page sums a per-area column, and both publish into one dated, frozen edition.

What it does

The award invoice is the derivation behind every award computed from a voting record, and the word is deliberate: it is an itemized bill — each line, what it cost, how the total was reached.

It opens with three panels at the same size — the dominant award, the other award, and who this person is — then the evidence tables, harmful laws first. Each row is one instrument, carrying:

• the bill and why it is on the movement's list, shown in full;
• one generated sentence of what this person did to it, worst act first, every act linking to the official record;
• that row's share of the two sums, written as a pair — +263.0 / 5.0.

Add the left half of every pair, divide by the right half, and the published percentage comes out exactly.

Under both tables sits the derivation, performed in front of the reader: the division written out with the real numbers substituted rather than in symbols — 2085.0 ÷ 23.0 = 90.65 → 91; every priced category this record did not trigger, greyed and counted zero, with what it would have cost; the rows excluded and why; and the gaps that could not be closed. A Disagree with this? link opens a proposal against one row.

The Flamingo math page is the other one, for a person assessed from their own recorded words. Three tiles: the award with its mark, the "N% known" knowledge percentage at the same size beside it, and the seat they are put forward for. The percentage is never shown without that second tile, because 74 across three areas read and 74 across eleven are different claims.

Proportion strips then show which qualification areas carried the number and which of the three authorities did — the AI reading, trusted citizens, every other citizen. A per-area table prints each area's result, the share the movement committed to it in advance, the share it carried, and what it put into the total; that last column sums to the headline. Every equation sits in one band at the foot, written twice: in symbols, then with this person's numbers.

Neither page sits behind a sign-in: published arithmetic about a named living person may not have a login in front of it. Both stay re-derivable, because every run is published as a dated, frozen edition holding the list as it stood, the full policy object and the run's gaps — append-only, so a correction opens a new edition with a changelog naming what moved.

The goal it serves

The claim this movement makes about a named living person is arithmetic over the public record, and the whole defence of it is that a stranger can run it again — with a calculator, no account and no reason to like us.

That moves the argument onto ground where it can be settled. Without the derivation, the only fight available is whether we invented the number, and that one is won by whoever is louder. With it, the fight is over a weight sitting in a public file — why blocking a repair in committee is priced at thirty times a floor vote. That is an argument about how power actually works in a legislature, which is why the answer to "your number is unfair" is do the math yourself.

The reader is not assumed to be friendly, and should not be. Citizens have spent decades receiving official figures with the working left off, from institutions with every reason to round in their own favour. So the source is the official record or nothing, and what gets conferred is an award, not a verdict. A figure published this month will be quoted in a primary two elections from now, and the frozen edition keeps it answerable then.

What keeps it honest

• The page performs no arithmetic of its own. Every figure is read from the stored run: if the browser could compute a different total than the run did, the audit trail would be worthless.
• A derivation the data cannot support is never printed. Records written before the terms were stored once rendered 0.0 ÷ 0.0 beneath an invitation to add the column up. They now say so instead. The award still publishes: what is missing is the working, not the number.
• Nobody is assessed on a vote they had no opportunity to cast. Rows failing the tenure test come out of both sides of the average — never a zero, never a penalty.
• An empty table still renders and names which kind of empty it is. "We looked and found nothing", "we have nothing to look against" and "we have not looked" are three different claims about a named living person. On the Flamingo page, "not earned" and "unknown" print their cause in words, never 0%.
• What these pages never claim: character, motive, legality, or prediction. No figure triggers anything on its own.

Works with

• The Wall — why there are two derivation pages and not one, and what is never allowed to cross between them.
• Say What We Could See — the gaps at the foot of a derivation come from there; a named hole is part of the working, not something hidden under it.
• Your State House, Same Instrument — the same derivation over a state chamber's roll calls, so a reader who can check one can check the other.
• Work You Can Watch — a derivation names the run that produced it, and those runs are public.

Where to go next

• The Monkey Award — what the harm side measures, and the twelve categories every act is priced from.
• Do the math yourself — the equation, the table, and a worked example you can reproduce on paper.
• The three states — why not earned and unknown differ in fact.
• Open Data — clone the record and follow any row to its source.
• Open the app — pull up a representative and read a derivation line by line.