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Build the board you actually look at

A custom marketing dashboard here is a board of tiles: you pick a question, place it, size it, and the tile chooses the chart form that fits the room.

A dashboard is a saved arrangement of answered questions. You pick the questions, place them and size them; the tile decides what form its answer takes in the room you gave it. Reading has no handles — arranging is a mode you enter on purpose and leave when you are done.

Boards

A custom marketing dashboard starts from a template rather than from an empty grid — a company with no board yet is offered a starting one, and you rearrange from there. A selector at the top names the board you are looking at and how many questions it answers, because the questions a board answers are its placements; there is no second list to keep in step.

Boards can be closed, the default included. Closing one never leaves the next choice to chance: the seat passes to the oldest board that remains, so a company always has a default as long as it has any board at all.

The board chooser: your custom marketing dashboard beside the ready-made ones, each naming what it answers.
A ready-made board is a starting point, not a fixture — every question on it can be removed or replaced.

Adding a question

Questions come from the catalogue pane docked to the left of the board, grouped by topic. Press a question and its answer lands on the board; press it again and it comes off. A question whose source is not connected is still listed, with a note saying what it is waiting on.

You choose which answers are present, where they sit and how big they are. What is drawn by default is the product's decision — though a widget's own menu offers the chart forms its data shape can honestly take, and that choice is saved on the placement like a size.

Arranging, and what a drag feels like

Arrange grows a drag surface and a size control on every widget. Done writes the whole board in one go, and Discard puts it back exactly as the server last saw it — so a drag that goes wrong costs nothing.

The drag itself follows four rules, and they are the same four everywhere something is dragged in this product:

  • The thing you are holding tracks your pointer exactly. No easing, no lag, no animated catch-up.
  • The snap is instant. A cell is either the target or it is not; an animated settle would mean the board and your hand disagreed for a moment.
  • Only a ghost moves mid-drag. The neighbours hold still, so the board does not reflow under the tile you are aiming at.
  • The cascade resolves once, on release. Anything that has to move yields downward, and it moves after you let go.

A size is a form, not a floor

Most dashboard products give a chart a minimum size and refuse anything smaller. This one does the opposite: a renderer declares a ladder of forms, the tile measures the room it actually has, and it draws the richest form that fits.

RoomWhat the answer becomes
Very smallThe figure itself, sized to the box
NarrowBars with the name and the value riding on the row
MediumA label column, the bar, and a value column
WideThe same, plus the sentence that answers the question
Very wideThe rows fold into two columns rather than stretching

The consequences are worth stating, because they are what makes a small tile useful rather than merely small:

  • The rows fill the tile. The spacing between bars is a small capped constant and the bar itself is the remainder, so a taller tile means thicker bars rather than a stack of rows with white space underneath.
  • How many rows are shown is measured, not fixed. A tile shows what fits legibly.
  • A list with room for one row prints the total instead. One bar out of seven is not a smaller answer, it is a wrong one.
  • The smallest legal width is a property of the answer. A money widget cannot be narrower than its own figure printed with its cents — money always prints its cents here.

What a widget prints

The head carries the question, at reading weight. The category is a small tick beside it and a faint watermark over the marks, never a band that eats the tile — eight widgets each spending thirty-five pixels on a category label is two grid rows of a screen spent saying nothing.

Two rules govern what the picture may do:

  • Five categories, then Other. A ranked list names five and folds the rest into an Other row on the floor of the tile, printing its own sum and count, opening onto its members. A rate cannot be summed, so its Other counts instead — “12 more campaigns”. Time axes, tables and the bench grid are the exceptions, because a month is not a category.
  • A bar needs a ruler. A chart's scale ends at the data rather than at a rounded number pulled from nowhere, and a rate is not pinned to 100 just because it is a percentage.

A widget with nothing to say

An empty tile draws its own anatomy, ghosted, with the reason at the foot. It does not print a zero, and it does not demand a connection you have already made: a connected ad account with no spend in the window is an answer — “no campaign spent over the last 31 days” — and the widget says that instead.

Opening a question in full

Pressing a widget opens that question as its own page: the chart over a longer horizon, the table it was drawn from, the definition of the metric behind it, and the rows folded in underneath. A tile is what you keep on screen; the page is where you go when somebody asks you to defend the number.

Hovering a mark shows the full name and a small panel of evidence. The panel opens against the direction your pointer is travelling, so it does not land under your own cursor, and a group of related marks emphasises together rather than flickering as the pointer crosses them.

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