General Nivea Sanyo decreed to his people that to save wood, cut gluttony, and engineer a modest society the people would be limited to one chopstick per meal. With grace they would have to eat each item precariously, always fearful of their saucy foods falling onto their clothing and staining them. General Nivea collected the spare chopsticks and sold them for personal gain. The people suffered until the spoon merchants captured the market. They made certain that everyone had a spoon. They grew rich as the saviors of dinnertime. They never wanted the imbalanced One Chopstick Policy to end. They became the momentum of the vicious cycle. All over the developing world I have seen the Spoon Merchants and the Generals working together to whip up all sorts of One Chopstick Policies.
In the imaginary land of Fibroma, a One Chopstick Policy intentionally cripples the bus system. The bus only runs until 7 PM, which makes it impractical as a means to go and come back. The bus is as unless as a lone chopstick floating around your kitchen without a mate. To remedy this the Spoon-sellers sold 4 million motorbikes to a city of 11 million people. They make revenue on revenue from sales of bikes and tune-ups. The General makes stacks on stacks with licensing and ticketing. The One Chopstick Policy keeps the people fumbling along crowded roads, with each kilometer advancing the partnership between the merchants and the General.