The technical words of this world, explained for humans. Nobody is born knowing what a percentile is — and you don’t need to, to use your profile.
A stable tendency in how you are: how drawn you are to new ideas, how much order you need, where your energy comes from. It's not a box you fall into — it's a dial, and you sit somewhere on it.
For example: 'Being organised' isn't yes/no: there are minute-by-minute planners, creative-chaos people, and a great many in between.
The personality model with the strongest scientific backing. It sums up how you are in five dials: openness, conscientiousness, extraversion, agreeableness and emotional stability.
Each big trait opens into finer shades, like a folder with subfolders. You can run high on some and low on others within the same trait — that's where your real shape lives.
For example: Inside extraversion: you can love people (high warmth) and hate being in charge (low assertiveness). Same trait, opposite facets.
Your place in a line of 100 people ordered by that trait. Percentile 80 in openness means: out of every 100, about 80 score below you. It's not an exam grade — there's no pass or fail.
For example: Percentile 15 in extraversion isn't 'failing at social': it means 85 in 100 seek more social stimulation than you do. Information, not verdict.
The comparison group that gives your score meaning. A '7' means nothing on its own; compared against thousands of people of your age and context, it does. Without norms there's no percentile.
For example: It's the difference between 'I run 10 km in 55 minutes' (a loose number) and 'faster than half the people my age' (a number with context).
How precise the measure is: if you retook the test next week, would it come out similar? Every measurement carries some noise; a good instrument carries little — and admits it.
Whether the test measures what it claims to, and whether that relates to real life. A test can be exquisitely precise at measuring nonsense: precision and truth are different things.
A test where you answer about yourself. It measures how you see yourself, today — which is enormously valuable and has limits at the same time: nobody sees themselves with perfect objectivity. That's why no honest self-report sells itself as absolute truth.
Our way of not faking infinite precision. When the signal is thin, instead of nailing you to an exact number we tell you the zone (high, middle, low) — and in your type, how firm each letter is: if you're on the edge, we say so.
For example: An honest GPS: with weak coverage, it draws you a wider circle instead of inventing the exact point.
The INTJ/ENFP-style code: a pocket summary of four of your traits, rounded to one side or the other. Useful for conversation, treacherous for decisions — because the rounding erases the nuance.
Our way of naming your dominant pattern — Compass, Lighthouse, Current… — from how your measured traits combine. It's a portrait with a proper name, not a box: underneath, your five real dials are always there.
A classic map of what kind of work pulls you: things, data, ideas, people, creating or leading. It doesn't measure ability — it measures attraction, which is the fuel of persistence.
The trick (deliberate or not) behind horoscopes and magazine tests: descriptions so general and so flattering that anyone recognises themselves. Your mind fills the gaps with your own memories and feels 'seen'.
For example: 'You sometimes doubt yourself, but you're stronger than you think' — sounds like you. And like everyone.
The same dial seen from its two faces: neuroticism measures how reactive your alarm system is; stability is its calm reverse. In your result we show the calm face — and we tell you so.
Whatever comes straight from your answers through transparent rules — your archetype, your traits, your type — always works and depends on no AI. The AI layer only writes narrative on top of those numbers; it never invents them.
Missing a word?
The test doesn’t require knowing any of them: we explain everything as you go, with your own numbers in front of you.