I have stories of both sides of that coin.

Another story is we are called up to line up for the styrofoam meal trays. Many of us are dazed and confused, drugged out of our minds on whatever the prison is prescribing that week. Not me, at least not for morning and noon, but my bunkmate was and he would often miss meals because it was really tough to rouse him to get into line.

The guy giving out the meals was a trusty. A prisoner with responsibility. He was big and mean and he got to keep all the meals that were not given out. He would call for lineup and if you were not in that lineup by the time he gave out the last meal you didn't get it. Not even if you were running 5 ft away.

No prisoner could pick up a meal for another prisoner.

You were going to starve and he was going to eat more or use that meal as barter for something else. That's how jail worked.

You want to fight? This really big muscular mean guy who has the backing of the authority of the guards? Nope. That's hole time and that's increased sentence time. Don't do it. Go hungry. Get weaker. Go back into your bed.

So I wrote up a note. I became a jailhouse snitch. I explained what moral hazard was and that the trusty had the incentive to withhold meals from people who were slow. I handed that to the guard that evening.

The rules were changed the next morning. The trusty was no longer allowed to keep any meals that were not given out and therefore he had no incentive to scream people to run lineup and then deny. Meals became a much more relaxed time and I had time to get the drugged old guy up to go get his food.

Problem solved, including reasonable logical guards.