Better, How?

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I love music. Really, I do. It’s time travel. It’s mood-altering. It’s magic.

So of course, I want to hear it at its best.

Reading about the different services online, I got interested in Apple again because of the audio quality. Apparently, if you switch from Apple to another service, you’ll feel like you’re listening through a tin can. I’m no music snob, but I sure as hell don’t listen through a tin can. I’ve got vintage Bose noise-canceling headphones, for God’s sake.

So I got a free 30-day trial of Apple Music, and what did I find?

A thing of beauty. That sound—phenomenal. I was sold.

It was scientific. Measurable. Apple Music was better.

But then my iPhone started giving me fits. Apps quitting. System freezing. I went into debug mode. Nothing worked—because nothing had enough memory to work.

The culprit? My new BFF: Apple Music.

Turns out, when you’re the default player for millions of devices, you don’t need to optimize. You can just ship bloatware.

Microsoft Word does it too. And sure, it’s the best. So is Apple Music.

But you’ve gotta ask: Better, how?

Business theorist Clayton Christensen called this “over-serving.” Customers don’t need perfection. They don’t want lossless audio; they just want music that plays reliably. It’s like horsepower vs. torque—all that power under the hood doesn’t matter if it never reaches the road.

“Better” means nothing without perspective:

Better audio quality? Better for your device? Better user experience?

So I learned my lesson about “better.” Or so I thought.

When I shared this realization on X, something strange happened…or didn’t happen. Just 24 views and two likes. Ouch! Actually. That’s pretty standard for me.

Then I posted the exact same thing on Threads. 245 hearts. 29 comments. I didn’t even know 245 people used threads!

So the Threads post was clearly better but the content—the “product”—was the same.

Better, but better, how?

Different stage. Different crowd.

Do you know the best movie of 1994? Ask ten different people, you’ll get ten different answers.

Shawshank, Pulp Fiction, The Lion King. What moview is better? Better, how? — Shawshank, Pulp Fiction, The Lion King

The Lion King? Box office champion and a soundtrack that slaps.

Forrest Gump? Best Picture winner, six Oscars. Worst thing that ever happened to the cross-country team.

Speed? Highest Rotten Tomatoes score—94%. That’s the critics rating too. What do you think about that, wildcat?

Shawshank Redemption? Theater flop, home-video legend. Hope is a good thing.

Pulp Fiction? The most quotable, for sure. You can watch it a dozen times and still find something new.

Same year. Five different definitions of “better.”

Each valid, each useless without context.

“Better” always comes in a bundle. Meaningless without asking:

Better for whom?

Better for what?

Better at what cost?

In business, that’s your secret weapon. You don’t need to make the fastest car—maybe make the most comfortable. Find the audience that values your definition of “better.”

Maybe that’s the real algorithm—knowing who you’re playing for.

Apple taught me about sound. Threads taught me about signal. The movies taught me about point of view.

Better always depends on who’s tuned in.

And yes, I’ll post this to Threads. Third time’s the charm.

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