Most noncoffee drinkers will, if pressed, admit to liking the smell of freshly brewed coffee. The smell of roasting coffee beans, however, isn’t as universally appealing, Patrick Reilley readily admits, comparing it to “burned toast.” A neighbor of Mr. Reilley’s roasting operation in Rockland, Rock City Coffee Roasters, finds that smell objectionable enough to have complained to City Hall.

The roasting is done three times a week, in eight-hour stints. The roasting operation, in a commercial zone also on Main Street, was started because Mr. Reilley and his partner, Susanne Ward, could not get roasted coffee beans of the quality they liked for their coffee shop, bakery and bookstore. They have been roasting for five years.

The neighbor purchased a building in the commercial zone about a year ago and decided to live in it. Not liking the steady smell of beans roasting, he complained to the city’s code officer, who in turn referred it to the new city attorney.

Rockland has a committee whose charge it is to issue rulings on smells. As Mr. Reilley puts it, “Rockland has a history of olfactory landmarks.” These include its now defunct fish processing plant and a landfill in an old quarry.

The odor committee concluded the roasting beans did in fact emit an objectionable smell, and the city ruled that Rock City Coffee Roasters was in violation of ordinances, calling it a “nuisance.” Mr. Reilley has offered to extend the ventilation stack pipe, but wonders whether that $5,000 investment will win over the committee on what is a very subjective judgment.

Living with less-than-pleasant smells certainly can diminish the enjoyment of one’s home. But a lone neighbor repeatedly complaining about an existing business can also be seen as tyranny of the minority. Though the nature of the smell is unusual, this sort of conflict is not – just ask farmers about the city folk who build a retirement home next door. They love the cute cows and pretty fields, but when fertilizer is being spread, or the wind changes direction, it doesn’t seem quite so bucolic. In mill towns, the stench of cooking pulp is known to old-timers as “the smell of money,” but newcomers don’t find it as bracing.

There are no easy answers for the conflict in Rockland, but Maine has always leaned toward a “live and let live” ethic. Perhaps Mr. Reilley and his critic could sit down over a cup of coffee and work out their differences.