Every company says it cares about accuracy. What matters is whether anything stops the inaccurate thing from shipping.
Not inferred, not typical, not plausible. The tempting failure in health software is to fill a gap with something reasonable — an average, a smoothed line, a value carried forward. Each of those claims a measurement that never happened.
A gap in a chart is drawn as a gap.
Saying “nothing here” is a claim too, and it can be wrong the same way a number can. A confident emptiness that turns out to be a bug is worse than a blank space, because it reads as information.
A record knows a reading is absent. It cannot know why. Software that narrates causes it never observed is writing fiction in the register of fact.
Not “sleep earlier”, not “aim for eight hours” — those are somebody else’s numbers. Where our software suggests anything, it names a lever measured in that person’s own record and carries its evidence in plain words. A suggestion that quotes only its upside is an advertisement.
Statistics decide what is reportable. A person decides what is advisable.
Where a published study is quoted, it is labelled as what large groups showed over many years — kept visibly apart from anything measured on the reader. Blurring the two makes the strongest claim available while appearing to make the weakest.