TOKYO — This is a compliant city. During rush hour, a horde of commuters exiting a subway platform will not dare step onto a staircase labeled “down.” Nobody jaywalks. People don’t litter. Train operators apologize when their trains are seconds late — or even early.

A manager at the gym where I work out asked me to wear rented shoes instead of a pair of sneakers I had worn outside; my son’s soccer teammates scolded a friend when he dropped a small piece of cracker on the sidewalk.

But one group occasionally breaks the rules: smokers.

Walking to the subway on my way to work, I regularly pass a group of puffers loitering in an alley, their wafting cigarettes quietly rebuking the signs marked “No Smoking.” Once in a while, patrolling officers shoo them away, but the smokers always return.

Every time I see them, I am struck by the brazen rule-breaking, given the strict codes that govern society here.