The years of plenty in Egypt brought an agricultural boom so unprecedented that the government's management and tracking systems simply collapsed under the sheer volume of grain. Officials were forced to drastically change their methods of operation. To capture this unimaginable abundance, the grain is compared to the sand of the sea. The primary approach among commentators views this as a deliberate exaggeration to illustrate an enormous, almost incomprehensible quantity [רד״ק, שד״ל, רלב״ג, ביאור יש״ר]. However, this comparison also hints at the quality of the grain, not just its amount. Just as sand is resilient and withstands the constant pounding of ocean waves without washing away, the grain Joseph stored possessed a unique durability. Whether natural or miraculous, this resilience prevented the crops from rotting or spoiling despite the changing climate over the long years of storage [העמק דבר].
At a certain point, the massive administrative effort to document the incoming treasures was completely abandoned. It was the appointed royal scribe who finally stopped his work, rather than Joseph himself [רש״י]. In fact, Joseph may have avoided counting altogether, acting on the principle that blessing does not rest upon things that are strictly measured and tallied [משכיל לדוד]. Initially, government officials attempted to keep exact records to prevent embezzlement. Yet, as the stockpiles swelled to massive proportions, they simply gave up [ביאור יש״ר, ביאור שטיינזלץ]. They had to abandon measuring the exact volume of the grain, settling instead for merely counting the number of storage facilities [רבנו בחיי]. Alternatively, they continued to collect the required tax but stopped calculating the total value of the accumulated yield because the effort required was too immense [אור החיים]. This shift away from strict auditing was largely made possible by the absolute trust the administration placed in Joseph [מלבי״ם].
The record-keeping was halted because the grain was deemed to be without number. Naturally, numbers are infinite, and one can theoretically always continue counting. Therefore, this does not imply a literal mathematical inability to count, but rather describes a quantity so massive that it exceeded the limits of human comprehension. When numbers reach such staggering heights, they lose their tangible meaning and can no longer be pictured in the human mind. At that stage, any new addition fails to alter the overall perception of the amount [ספורנו, רש״ר הירש, ברכת אשר על התורה].
The narrative carefully clarifies that the counting stopped specifically because the amount was beyond numbering, preventing any misunderstanding. If it were only recorded that the scribe ceased his work, one might assume the officials succumbed to laziness or an unwillingness to exert effort. By clarifying that the grain was truly beyond measure, it becomes clear that the task was abandoned only because it had become practically impossible and entirely futile [גור אריה, דברי דוד].