'Yes. So they sniff. Or in your case, you pat your pockets. It makes you look distracted, which makes sure they know that conflict is not on your mind. It's subconscious!'

I think about what Colin has said as I step into the brisk evening air and walk home. It makes perfect sense. Chimps sometimes perform elaborate acts of strength to display their power while stopping short of overt aggression. Cats sit at an angle to one another to show they mean no harm. Perhaps men sniff at each other on dark streets to communicate the same. Perhaps this is the secret to world peace we have all been looking for. Perhaps if we can just crack the Sniff Code we can crack all crime and conflict!

I begin to feel mildly excited. I wonder if this is indeed an important sociological, evolutionary theory I have come up with. Maybe the Wallace Sniff will be lauded and hailed as a masterpiece of modern scientific thinking. Perhaps at last I will be welcomed into the scientific community and celebrated. They might name university wings after me, and take a picture of me in a hat, holding a scroll. Bright, attractive students will sniff at me as I pass them in the street, as a gesture of respect and admiration.

Actually, that'd be annoying.

Nevertheless, I suppose that, really, it was only a matter of time before I came up with a theory this groundbreaking and important. The Wallace Sniff. I am great.

Up ahead, I notice a man walking towards me. He is bigger than me and muscular, and he's staring straight ahead.

Avoiding eye contact!, I think, in some kind of wise, scientific voice. This man is no threat to me!

Instinctively, though, my hand goes for my pocket. But I stop the pat halfway through. No, I think. Go for the sniff. The sniff is more respectful. The sniff is universal. The sniff will end all wars.

I am excited as we approach one another. I aim to show him I am distracted and not thinking of him as a potential enemy. The urge to pat my pocket and perhaps hum a tune is strong, but I must ignore it. And then the man is just a few feet away, and I'm sure he's about to Wallace Sniff, but he doesn't Wallace Sniff, and so I take a deep breath and ...

I sniff loudly.

It is brilliant.

But he has not sniffed. He has not sniffed! He could be a threat. This is terrible! The theory has crashed, and I'm going to get beaten up by a big man!

And then ... just a second later, and from somewhere a moment behind me ... the big man sniffs back.

I smile broadly as I walk on, happy to have successfully avoided conflict. I am the new David Attenborough.

I award myself a pound.

SATAN

I have been made a godfather.