Why don't microwaves warn against metal?

 

Microwave

 

Why don’t microwaves have warnings telling you not to microwave metal?

You’d think that with all of the crazy warnings for products out there, combined with the McDonald’s coffee lawsuit, it would make sense that there would be a giant “DO NOT MICROWAVE METAL” warning somewhere.

I realize most people know you’re not supposed to microwave metal. And maybe the people most likely to toss foil in the microwave (children/jackasses) can’t read anyway. But why not just put a warning label since it could result in an explosion?

This question came up over Thanksgiving and everyone seemed to have a story of something they accidentally put in the microwave that contained metal: a frozen juice box with a foil interior, chinese food containers with the metal handle still on, porcelain bowls with a painted metal rim.

Better yet, why don’t microwaves sense that an explosion or fire is imminent and simply turn off?

I’m the last person who wants companies to add more useless warnings to products, and I’m not even advocating that all microwaves should have warnings about metal, I’m just curious why there isn’t a warning. Did it slip through the cracks somehow? Does everyone in the world just know you can’t microwave metal?

I’ve also posted this to Yahoo Answers.

Published by

Mike Vogel

Hi, I'm the Writer & Director of Transmedia, Feature Films, Original Series, and Fiction. Portland, Oregon

One thought on “Why don't microwaves warn against metal?”

  1. Oh my god… is that Alec Baldwin demonstrating a built-in oven like the one Alice used to cook the Bradys pork chops and apple sauce in? Good lord, how the mighty have fallen. Although I gotta say he looks almost as good as retro-Indy in that movie poster… I guess the Writers’ strike has given them plenty of time to catch up on all that plastic surgery they have been intending to get. And by the way (I refuse to use those dorky IM abbreviations), Alice would never have used a microwave, otherwise she and ol’ Sam the butcher would only have had time for quickies in that massive Plymouth station wagon. I refuse to believe that my dream girl Marcia Brady grew her impossibly shiny heavenly Aryan-blond locks while chowing on microwaved meat. No f-in’ way.

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