The responsibility to ask is literally the point of Chesterton's fence in my mind; when something looks out of place, and you think it doesn't make sense, you need to ask and learn about it. Sometimes the fence genuinely is unnecessary, and you can then proceed to dismantle it, but other times it might be useful for surprising reasons; it might be a mitigation for an issue that would require a much more time-consuming fix; and it might sometimes genuinely be unnecessary. The point of finding out this information is that the correct action is different for each of them; taking down the fence is fine if it's genuinely useless, and leaving it alone is necessary if it's genuinely useful for reasons you didn't anticipate. In the middle ground where there's a better solution that would take more time, the correct action depends on the answer to a follow-up: is replacing the fence the most important use of my time right now? I've experienced all three of these situations before (and both possible answers to the follow-up in the third case), so I've found this framework helpful for how to deal with the fences when I come across them.

How you ask the question matters just as much as whether you should ask it. Impressionable ears are everywhere and asking 'is there icecream in the house?' means that everyone is about to get a bowl or be upset.

Yes, Chesterton clearly hadn’t started working at a job where he was responsible for the security or accuracy of a process. “Then Marge calculates the late penalties by hand and enters them into the system? It’s fine, she … has a method?Really?”