Queues

Earlier today, I was stuck in a queue for the bus. At some point during getting stuck, I began to wonder about queues.

As far as I can remember, there was never a lesson about queuing up; there was never a law demanding that people are to get into lines when waiting their turn. Why and how, then, do we just seem to know?

But before that, what are queues and what are their purposes?

Firstly, queues are safe. As opposed to chaotic hordes of people, queues are peaceably organised. Even if people in both groups are equally impatient, demanding them to take the stance of a silent protest is definitely desirable over the alternative.

Secondly, queues provide efficiency. Queues often end with the provision of a service: cashiering, answering of a query, boarding of a vehicle, to name a few. With queues, we can ensure that one-to-one service is provided, promising a more intensive interaction. Admittedly, queues demand for a long series of one-to-one interactions. However, the alternative of singular one-to-many impersonalised service, although perhaps appealing to the more aggressive result-oriented people, would definitely be frowned upon by members of more accomplished societies.

Thirdly, queues provide for fairness. In a situation whereby there is no way to determine who is more worthy, we take the measure of commitment and sacrifice as discriminating criteria. To him who was willing to wait, to him shall fall the reward. A seemingly fair trade-off: sufficient enough to demand for people to follow this norm.

But do queues, really?

In hospitals, ought we provide the earliest service to him who arrived first or to him that is closest to death? Perhaps you might contend that the sanctity of life, as is similarly upheld by most humanitarian organisations, is of paramount importance. However, reality is often blurred: we can never truly determine who is most sick. What if there was no threat of death: merely pain?

What then ought we to make of people who employ others to stand in line on their behalf? Someone made the sacrifice, but another gains the reward. Contrary as this may be to the moral motivations of queuing, this might however bother only few people. As long as they are not denied their just reward, most people are often content with allowing for moral lapses in the system.

In reality, what we often perceive is a mixture of various faculties. Pricing mechanism, for one, often comes into play; people are allowed to pay an additional premium for priority placement. Social connections, too. Considering then the complexities of such a system of order, I am forced to conclude that queues are merely mild backdrops of organisation.

Nevertheless, I deny not its practicality: even loosely-defined laws are ultimately more societally-sane than being lawless.

But what then of our seemingly innate ability to queue? I belief that it, too, is based on very flimsy foundations. Queues have often distintegrated into chaos once members begin to realise that they have the opportunity to jump about for their own selfish benefit. It is very much a manifestation of the majority-minority mindset. Queues only hold when most members stay in line; in their numbers, they frown on would-be cheaters and so discourage him or her. Similarly, the converse is true.

In fact, the onus often lies with the organisers. In their possession of the power to grant or deny the service, they can exercise certain authority in demanding such order. Often, this is the case.

Clearly, then, queuing is not in our genetic make-up. Sensibly so too; for while it is a socially sound concept, it is in truth a very anti-instinctive structure. Why else would we have situations of football stadium stampedes that have resulted in massive numbers of death? Why else are there endless riots and looting when social stability collapses?

Queuing was something that had to grow as a result of civilisation. Its structure is upheld only by voluntary agreement. It evolved for the people, by the people. Once in place, it became an unspoken rule of conduct.

And then the queue moved -- the bus had come.