We read the same parcel at more than one level of government, and much of the time those
records do not match. That is normal, and it is the reason to read more than one in the first
place. A difference between two records is information — it is not automatically bad
news, and it usually is not anybody being wrong.
What matters is what kind of difference it is, because “the records
disagree” covers four situations that mean four different things. Only one of them is a
contradiction.
One record carries more than the other. A township holds a property card
the statewide roll does not, and it names the number of units, the year of a permit, the
classification behind a code. Where the two overlap they agree; one simply goes further. That
is the finer record adding detail, and it should raise your confidence rather than spend it.
It is what a granularity scale is for.
The records describe different things. A soil survey and a zoning map cover
the same acre and answer unrelated questions. Neither confirms the other and neither
contradicts it. We set both down and say which is which.
Two records give one particular two values that cannot both be right. The
assessor taxes 19,998 square feet; the map draws 10,358. This is the finding — the thing
you could not have turned up yourself in an afternoon, and the thing worth a phone call. We
print both figures, name both sources, and we do not choose between them. Neither of them is
a survey, and which one governs is a question for the county.
And sometimes two records say exactly the same thing. Two offices, kept
separately, by different people, on different schedules — landing on one answer. That
agreement is worth stating plainly, and we do.
None of this is a score. We do not tell you how sure we are. We tell you what we
asked, what each record answered, where they part company, and what we asked that came back
silent — and a source that returned nothing is named too, because that is the record
being quiet where we looked rather than a place we skipped.