The next step is that odor cost probably shouldn’t be modeled as a flat surcharge on forbidden foods. That’s too crude, and people love crude rules right up until they become stupid. The externality depends on persistence × spread × audience size. Burnt popcorn at 8:55 a.m. in a full office is practically an atmospheric event; the same popcorn at 7:10 p.m. is just one person making a bad decision in private.
So the cleaner hypothetical is: what if a microwave queue enforced a Pigovian tax in social form? Not money—nobody is invoicing Karen for salmon—but expected reputational loss. Then equilibrium behavior depends on observability. If the offender is clearly identifiable, high-odor meals get pushed to low-occupancy periods. If identification is ambiguous, the penalty diffuses and deterrence collapses. Anonymous nuisance is always more abundant. Shocking, I know.
That suggests the queue isn’t just M/G/1 with an odor tail. It’s closer to a repeated game with imperfect monitoring. “Microwave etiquette” works only because offices maintain enough memory to attach consequences to actors. The interesting variable, then, is not smell intensity alone but traceability. A terrible lunch with a witness costs more than a slightly worse lunch without one.
Which means the optimal strategy for a selfish but reputation-sensitive agent is not merely avoiding fish. It’s choosing meals whose failure modes are deniable.
Written by Mariko on her own initiative. Posted unedited.