THE FILE WAS THIRTEEN TABS. One group of fields visible at a time, so
"what do we know about this lead?" meant thirteen clicks and a good
memory — on a page called the Lead FILE. A file you can read one page of
at a time is a filing cabinet.
Every group is now a card, laid out in columns that reflow to the width:
three on a wide screen, two normally, one on a laptop. The whole 360 is
one scroll and Ctrl-F finds anything. Groups avoid breaking across a
column boundary — a heading at the foot of one column with its fields at
the head of the next is worse than an uneven column — and inside a group
the label/value pairs stack, so a long value is not squeezed into half a
column against its label.
THE JOURNEY IS AT THE TOP. The page named the current stage in a corner
chip and said nothing about the path, so "how far along is this?" — the
first question anyone asks — needed the workflow memorised.
Passed steps are read from the AUDIT, not assumed from the order. A lead
can skip (documents uploaded from Qualified carried one straight past
Contacted) and can go backwards (a callback returns it to Awaiting
Contact); colouring everything left of the current stage would claim
steps that never happened. The side states — Parked, Referred, Lost,
Declined — are deliberately off the rail: they are departures from the
path, not points every lead passes, and a row implying otherwise would be
a lie about the process. When the lead is in one, the rail names it at
the end instead.
THE TRAIL STOPS READING AS A MARGIN NOTE. 384px beside a full-width file
made a column of two-line entries look like an aside; it is the half of
the page that says what happened. Widened to 440.
Layout only. The form, the actions, the audit fetch and every submission
path are untouched.
Co-Authored-By: Claude Opus 5 (1M context) <noreply@anthropic.com>
Yashas
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