When fuzzy logic meets crispy bacon

ONE of my favourite moments from university was in a dank NUS seminar room: I was listening to a philosophy professor list - seemingly endlessly - all the ways an argument could appear logical, but actually be utterly fallacious.

I remember gaping in awe as he tore down, in one fell swoop, all the arguments that had been used against me as a kid - including that old favourite: "Because I said so!"

I especially loved learning how flawed the "slippery slope" line of reasoning can be; you know, where one contends that because A would lead to B - which would lead to C, D, and eventually some catastrophic Z - A wasn't permissible at all.

I remember him squinting at us and pausing for dramatic effect, before asking: "Surely we could put safeguards in place so that Z doesn't happen? Must we really take as a given that there is no middle ground?"

Ah, the warm, comforting glow of logic.

Armed with that knowledge, I was ready to take on anyone who had ever used a fallacious argument against me. (I don't think my friends were too pleased; I must have been such a pain in the a** at gatherings.)

But what happens when an argument is so utterly illogical that you're stunned into silence by its idiocy?

Enter an exchange I had last weekend with a waiter at a Millenia Walk cafe. Amid the brouhaha over millennials and their penchant for S$19 smashed avocado toast, my dining partner and I were trying to order a typical diner-style breakfast: eggs, bacon, toast, etc.

Except that this breakfast plate came with the works - including bratwurst, which my companion loathes. But when he tried to get the sausage swopped out for extra bacon, we found ourselves plummeting head-first into a world of batty logic.

Behold, the strangest exchange ever:

Friend: I'll have the breakfast set, but instead of the sausage, could I please have extra bacon instead?

Waiter: I'm sorry, but we cannot do that.

Friend: Okay, is there a reason for that?

Waiter: We just can't change the sausage to extra bacon. But if you want, you can change it to extra mushrooms or turkey ham.

Me: So... He's not able to swop out the sausage for more regular bacon instead?

Waiter: No, because they're both pork.

Him: Sorry?

Waiter: The sausage and the bacon are both pork. You cannot exchange pork for more pork. You can only change it for more mushrooms or turkey ham.

Me: I'm sorry, but I really don't understand the logic behind that.

Waiter: Uh... It's just what the chef told us to say.

A few seconds of stunned silence followed, simply because we could not figure out how to react; Frown? Laugh? Ask to speak with the person who had come up with said cockamamie policy? We genuinely weren't able to decide which reaction would be the worst (wurst!).

(For the record, we eventually told the waiter that we'd leave the order unchanged, thankyouverymuch.)

Hilarity aside, I couldn't help but think about the government's S$4.5 billion Industry Transformation Programme (ITP) - a targeted, sector-focused initiative to help industries level up, especially in an age of heightened competition and disruption.

For the food services sector, there is a big push to "focus on the adoption of innovative business formats and technology" (according to an ITP press release) - a laudable and necessary effort, to be sure.

But even as food establishments move towards newfangled robo-waiters and tech-enabled business models, they should take care not to lose sight of the basics: solid customer service.

For in that arena, a little logic goes a long way.