but the market share numbers are what they are
When words cease to mean what they were intended or traditionally understood to mean, people with working brains find a new lexicon. We have a name for language that continues to circulate at the hands of the disengaged: cliche.
If the minds of the disengaged have any taste (lazy though it be, to be sure) they stock their cliche pantry with Shakespearean cliche. What the hell is a "salad day" anyway? Doesn't matter. The Bard didn't become the Bard by coining phrases that later flip tits up and float to the top of the scum pond, there to rot in the hot afternoon sun.
"Market share" is a phrase created by bean counters, subtype "venal" and is in fact principally circulated by the venal beancounter's venal beancounter: advertising men.
For example, my household is probably numbed among the vbvb as a "cable cutter", this though I have not resided anywhere with a working cable service for nearly thirty years, and that was an entire four month term at university, before which my family used this contraption called an "antenna", the kind you could see from the other side of the valley. A large, rusty pipe wrench lived full time at the bottom of the pole, seeing as, weather permitting, we could sometimes pick up Bellingham, and thereby upgrade in a scandalous moment from The Beachcombers to The Love Boat. David Suzuki on The Nature of Things would soon wrench us back to our senses, such being the paucity of science coverage in those times, good bad or ugly (Suzuki being a uneven trail mix I tended to score as "all of the above").
By this point in my young life I had passed judgement on television as mode of knowing shit about anything, hence the my thirty years in the un-television wilderness (and counting).
Nevertheless, to a moral certainty, I am surely categorized as a "cable cutter" (hey, we didn't say when).
Yes, those fucking vbvbs. We all know the drill.
Microsoft 10's "market share" is a fresh, tender patty of the same basic construction, whose turbid run off is additionally clouded by the chocolate-flavoured Ex-Lax served up by Windows Update.
Secondly, there is a key point to understand about how vbvbs do basic arithmetic.
Those least able to shuffle off the mortal coil of an undesired Windows 10 upgrade are the most important people to count. Your value in this pendant statistic is inversely proportional to your capacity to successfully wipe your own ass. These people are everything you want in a community of unwitting Guinea pigs to beta test suspect patches you are withholding from enterprise (tetchy, uptight people who actually know the difference and who, like Gandalf, only lose their shit precisely when and where they mean to).
Which brings us to "caveat emptor", the original market creed, and durable cliche of the highest Imperial coinage.
Let's suppose in Roman times you buy a pig in a poke. You take it home, release it from the bag—no surprise to you, since you checked carefully, it really is a baby piglet of sound mind & body—and you feed it the many different kinds of root vegetables that were not yet regarded as fit for human consumption, until the bacon is practically hanging in folds from its oversized rump. Then one dark and rainy night, a woman next door with more than the socially acceptable number of facial warts and moles twitches her nose and your domestic pig metamorphs inside your dwelling into a 600-lb toadstool (one with no prominent swollen bulboe labelled "drink me" to reserve the spell).
I am a great deal more than pretty much certain—one does not bet upon the Roman character lightly—that to the Roman mind, this scenario goes a great deal past caveat emptor, and well into lynch mob territory.
A "market" is a human institution where the receiver of the goods makes a dangerous but informed decision and then lives with the consequences. Once the stressful act of consent is drained from the story (replaced by a bagged and flagging Red Queen's eternal vigilance of non-consent, but I digress) so too is the concept of "market" drained from the phrase "market share".
Funny how I've never heard the CDC use the phrase "market share" to describe the latest flu epidemic. So it does seem possible to name phenomena by their inherent nature, to cut the fat cable of cliche and keep it cut over the course of decades.
In that group of cable cutters, count me in.