The Digital Din (Part II): Technological Progress Will Not Allow Silence
The noise created by technology is worthy of critique.
The Digital Din (Part I) forms the introduction to this piece as a personal reflection on noise in today’s day and age.
To find issue in the level of noise of daily life is far from a novel observation. Throughout history, noise complaints have always existed, but it seems to be getting worse. For example, fire engine sirens have gone from 96 decibels from a distance of 11 feet (3.35 meters) in 1912, to 114 decibels at the same distance in 1974, to 123 decibels at 10 feet (3 meters) in 2019. Meanwhile, the European Environment Agency reported in 2024 that around 106 million people (over 20% of the EU population) were exposed to long-term unhealthy noise levels according to the Environmental Noise Directive thresholds – that number increases to 30% of the population if the stricter World Health Organization (WHO) thresholds are considered.
Hence, there is a serious question about noise and auditory health beginning to emerge which, in turn, can be explored from the lens of the relationship between sound and technology. From large-scale cryptocurrency mining operations that are described as emitting a “deep, mechanical howl” to notifications that fill the public as well as the private space at all hours of the day to the rise of ‘noise-cancelling’ products, sound is an increasingly prominent feature in the direction technology is taking. A complex interconnected framework seems to be emerging that, if addressed critically, questions the type of impact technological progress has not only on sound but on society as a whole. Noise is inherently political, especially when wielded by the hands of technological interests.
The Sounds of Technology
Technology does not have a uniform sound but rather operates across a range. It can be minute, and it can be deafening just as it can be present or absent. As many analyses of technology highlight, today’s new technological products have become so widespread and/or operate in such discreet manners that the moment where they are the most noticeable is at the point of failure. Sound reflects this observation on how incorrect performance attributes visibility to an otherwise invisible object. The broken fridge is noticed by the lack of hum while the failing engine is observed when sputtering replaces the purr. But when anchored into the notion of technological progress, and not just the product itself, a different range of examples can be brought to the forefront
i. Blatant Cacophonies
When considering the harm that technologically-caused sound may result in, it would be expected that most would immediately consider the instances where technology is loud. To think perhaps of construction workers who wear protective mufflers over their ears against the drill of the jackhammer, or aircraft marshalls who stand by as the planes’ engines roar to life. But there are a growing number of examples emerging in relation to the newest forms of technology, resulting from the products that are meant to signal progress and innovation. Technologies like cryptocurrency.
In spite of what early participants of the cryptocurrency community had imagined, and their desire for Bitcoin as an everyday currency, it has become a form of ‘digital gold’ wherein financial speculation dominates and a quasi-permanent technological arms race seems present between miners. This competition has subsequently shifted what the technologies of cryptocurrency look like, from the personal computer to elaborate homebrew mining rigs running in basements to complex professionalized facilities run by mining pools. As achieving crypto-profits can take years once a mining rig has been established, groups of cryptocurrency miners have emerged – mining pools – where mining rigs and resources are ‘pooled’ to increase the odds of mining new cryptocurrency blocks.
As these pooled resources have grown and developed, including a crucial shift from central processing units (CPUs) to graphics processing units (GPUs), it has led to the establishment of large-scale physical facilities that are filled with “row after row of industrial-grade fans” that serve to cool down the mining rigs. But while the subsequent “unrelenting roar” of the fans may not have been discussed as widely when most of these facilities were still based in China, the country’s 2021 crackdown on cryptocurrency miners has led them to relocate mainly into the United States and brought the noise pollution to the porch of small rural towns. As mining pools seek out cheap and easy power grid access to support the rigs and their cacophonous fans, inhabitants have been left to deal with a level of noise that they compare to “a highway, a jet engine on the runway, or a semi [truck] idling in their driveway”, with sources from different towns citing levels at 82 decibels, 95 decibels, or between 80 to 100 decibels. In comparison, the WHO recommends a range between 45 to 80 decibels during the day depending on the activity and environment, and no more than 45 decibels at night. To maintain prolonged exposure to unhealthy levels of noise has been subsequently linked to ill health, including negative cardiovascular and metabolic effects as well as disrupted sleep which in turn leads to further health issues including depression and chronic diseases like hypertension.
With other similar facilities, such as the data centres that uphold artificial intelligence, also facing this same challenge of perpetual humming at best and severe health disruption at worst, the aforementioned notion of incorrect performance re-emerges across several levels. The first and most obvious is an incorrect performance of these technologies in relation to the humans impacted by the noise they create, deviating from our streamlined visions that innovation is meant to be smooth, silent and beneficial to our health. Taking a step back to a broader perspective, the fact is that the fans and the mining rigs are working correctly per the interests of those who own these facilities, but are doing so at the detriment of communities as well as animals, and the natural rural environment that commonly surrounds these locations. In this sense, the mining facilities operate incorrectly in relation to communal responsibilities, merely highlighting further just how exploitative these new technologies are unto the natural resources around them. Beyond the physical harms that this negative auditory externality represents to the world of innovative technologies, it also represents a point of failure in terms of what we owe each other. These rigs are moneymaking machines, solving complex algorithms to literally create new money, providing a select group of individuals with access to significant amounts of wealth that the communities in which these coins are mined will never partake in. Leaving aside the fact that old factory towns like Granbury (Texas), Murphy (North Carolina), and Bono (Arkansas) appear as relative antitheses to the San Francisco-based companies that come set up shop there, there is no wealth redistribution or even recognition by those tech enthusiasts causing the harm onto those living there. Instead, any sense of compassion is drowned out so long as every second that the tonitruous fans slide through the air continues to satisfy techno-capitalistic greed.
ii. No, I Don’t Want To Hear Your TikToks
While the auditory harms of technological progress can be obvious, as with the above example, there are also growing signs that these are blending into the daily normal. Since the end of the pandemic, there has been an undeniable new auditory phenomenon: people in communal public spaces seem to increasingly be listening to content out loud. From music to full-volume phone calls to TikToks and Instagram reels that need to be viewed more than once to ensure that the grating 10-second sound is properly ingrained in the minds of everyone who might be within earshot, what are often meant to be private auditory experiences are increasingly becoming communal. The reasons given for this shift in behaviour are multiple and would benefit from significantly more research as the hypothesized factors include the rise of individualism, on-screen portrayals of phone usage (where characters watch videos on speaker) and even the erosion of social contracts. But the technology itself has also been cited as a factor, pointing to the Bluetooth headphone in particular.
The very first Bluetooth headphones hit the market in 2004, and began to become viable alternatives to their wired counterparts in the 2010s. Interestingly, pop culture representations of the time tended to use the Bluetooth headset as an indicator of negative character traits, notably self-centeredness and noisiness, as highlighted in examples such as Breaking Bad (2008) and its spin-off Better Call Saul (2015-2022).
Subsequently, if a turning point were to be identified in the history of the Bluetooth headset, it would likely be in 2016, when Apple announced the debut of the Airpod alongside the removal of the iPhone headphone jack. Interestingly, the memes that surrounded the launch of the product did still retain a sense of critique due to the high cost with some social media users noting “These iPhone 7 Airpods are more expensive than the phone I’m using right now” and mocking the behaviour of those who had the means to purchase them (e.g., “it sounds like broke in here”). Nonetheless, the Bluetooth headphone has fully integrated the modern tech ecosystem as the Airpods have become a significant source of revenue for Apple and all other companies seem to have switched to the wireless format, removing the headphone jack under the claim of achieving a ‘clean’ and smooth innovative design (all while forcing customers to buy yet another product).
As Bluetooth headphones have come to dominate the market, it has been central in defining today’s noise landscape with some pointing out how the high cost of Airpods, their ability to run out of battery, and the technological knowhow needed to used them, are all factors that can be associated to the intensification of noise. If the Airpods are lost, users have less of a desire and/or means to replace them but may still seek to maintain their usual consumption routines by listening to content out loud. The same logic applies if the Airpods lose battery. Meanwhile, for some users, connecting Bluetooth devices is foreign and complex but, since there is no longer an alternative for wired headphones, they become disincentivized from using any headphones at all. These arguments certainly have a leg to stand on when combined with the addicted manner in which online content is now consumed – one can even wonder whether the individuals who omit the use of headphones are conscious of how loud their content consumption is. But as mentioned, there remains a lack of proper research on this question, leaving only hypotheses and educated guesses.
Even if the Bluetooth experience is not to blame for this new onslaught of private experiences in communal spaces, technology remains at the core. Looking to the past, speakers, boomboxes, megaphones, and other various sound-amplifying items have all found their way into the public arena. But, whereas before it might have been one person or a group operating in a unified manner, nowadays these experiences of public noise have individualized and multiplied thanks to our phones and social media. It is no longer one person walking down the street with a boombox;[1] instead it is three different people in a waiting area who are all watching their own TikTok For You Page, it is people in train carriages who are have their video calls on speaker while acting shocked that the connection keeps dropping, it is individuals who are so enraptured in their tv shows that they forget they exist in a shared space. Things are reaching a point that even national parks are expressing concerns about how drones, smartphones, and speakers are ruining the peaceful natural sounds they are trying to protect.
In an era where permanent connectivity is at our fingertips, we have been convinced that we must not only act on that opportunity but that it is our right to do so at any given moment. Here, the incorrect performance arguably lies in individualized silence: to not be on your phone, to not have your headphones in, to not be listening to something, to not be talking is an undesired state of existence and an indicator that something has gone wrong. Silence has become unnatural. But for others, the incorrect performance is the tinny noise crackling through the built-in phone speaker, rendering visible the scale of dependence that is developing upon having our phones in permanent proximity, and on having constant access to content ready for consumption.
iii. Dings, Pings, and Rings
While Apple’s Airpods have been an excellent example in how hardware evolutions can influence the sound landscapes around us, the company also serves as a great example for the less tangible evolution of permanent connectivity and, more specifically, the ever-present notifications that come with it. Apple’s famed design culture extends beyond than just the look of its hardware and its software because buying an Apple product is also an auditory experience for the user, be it with a 1990s Mac or the latest Apple Watch. The product that had the strongest impact on noise, however, was arguably the smartphone as the iPhone brought not only new ringtones, including the renowned ‘Tritone’ and ‘Marimba’, but also a vast soundscape that included clicks when the user (un)locked their screen, a shutter sound when a photo was taken, and taps when typing on the keyboard.
Nowadays, all tech companies work on sound design, from Amazon’s Alexa to Facebook’s Messenger to Samsung’s phones and even to The New York Times podcasts, because sounds do more than convey a notification; they build association. How often has a message notification rung out during a movie night, resulting in picking up the phone only to realize that the recipient of said message is on-screen? Or heard someone else’s phone in public, leading you to check yours? There are large, loud, and obvious examples of the sounds of technology but they also operate in the mundane and the everyday, unnoticed but always in the back our mind.
These notifications are so invisibly present that it has led to the coining of Phantom Vibration/Ringing Syndrome (PVS/PRS) where individuals perceive that a mobile phone is vibrating or ringing when it is not, a condition that is increasingly being seen as prevalent amongst the general population. In 2012, 89% of a 290 undergraduate student sample had experienced PVS and, on average, experienced it once every two weeks. Various studies associate PVS to excessive mobile phone use, the brain coming to expect the phone to vibrate if it does so regularly, and technological-related anxieties as the greater dependence on phones leads to other anxieties being projected onto the device. We have come to exist in a constant state of anticipation, waiting for the next notification, the next email, the next item to call for our attention that is already spread too thin. The sounds and vibrations that are designed into every feature of today’s technology only deepen this behavioural trend that shows no signs of relenting as progress seems dead-set on pursuing a path of acceleration.
Deafening Silences
Yet as the external communal space has gotten louder, it feels like the personal space is attempting to grow quieter. Indeed, while technological progress is participating in a growing level of noise outside, it is also giving all of us increased access to individualized quiet through Active Noise Cancellation (ANC) products. As technological advancements have managed to essentially ‘cancel out’ the sounds occurring outside the headphone by detecting ambient noise and then producing a sound wave of the same size but with the opposing negative/positive pressure, noise-cancellation technology has grown in popularity as well as accessibility. But this progress is not necessarily a good thing. Beyond the fact that removing sound can lead to the brain overcompensating as it looks for sound, leading to potential tinnitus, it is also just another temporary solution that is outsourced to the technology companies that have often participated in upping the general noise level to begin with.
Similarly, smart city projects have begun latching onto the growing health risks of noise pollution and promoting technology as the way to monitor the issue. But many of the projects that discuss urban sound pollution seem to fall severely short of considering the role that human-technology interactions have been playing in creating noise. One project framed noise pollution as resulting from three sources: traffic, nightlife, and HVAC-units. While the nightlife factor will be discussed in the next section, the other two are purely product-based with no consideration of the vast range of reasons why they cause noise pollution, nor of the human behaviours behind them. In areas like the United States, monitoring traffic noise levels can only go so far without considering the country’s heavy reliance on cars due to urban design. Similarly, to monitor the catastrophic noise levels on the London Underground fails to address the fact that solving the actual issue requires discussions of public funding as well as the TfL’s organizational structures. Even returning to the examples discussed previously, how will noise monitoring technologies deal with issues that are inherently anchored in human behaviours like profit-seeking and individualism which are, in turn, being promoted as normal behaviours through other technologies?
Noise and Permission
The fact of the matter is that noise is inherently political. What is heard, what is not, what is silenced and what is communicated, are all based on political acts relating to sound and, understandably, noise complaints can open the door to less tasteful ideologies as highlighted by the very stereotypes about the people who complain. From racist middle-aged white women to conservative elderly men that wave their cane at ‘those darn kids’, the narratives that underlie how communities engage with noise can often politicized and racialized . As Aaron Zwintscher puts it, “Noise is legislated, primarily, along lines of power and influence, with an emphasis on convenience on the one hand and health on the other”, reflecting social developments that span from worker safety to the separation of wealthy elites from the masses.
As engaging as the politics of noise is, the focus of this essay is on the relationship between noise and modern technological progress where, wielded in the hands of corporations, it seems to be becoming a tool for control and oppression rather than community and societal benefit. Increasingly, to allow for excesses in noise is becoming an indication of technological excess. Going back to the very first example of cryptocurrency mining, the likelihood of the deafening spin of fans being regulated is low when considering how states like Arkansas have passed a ‘Right to Mine’ Bill, preventing discrimination (and regulation) against crypto-mining facilities. The noise that the inhabitants of these towns face is a direct consequence of a political act, of a conscious decision to prioritize tech interests over population health. Moreover, beyond noise being a blatant consequence of the encroaching of technology on every aspect of daily life, noise is also a permanent distraction. The presence of noise requires attention and energy, reducing the ability to concentrate, as is best demonstrated by turning the music down when driving on an unfamiliar road. So, if we are continuously being bombarded by the noise of technological gizmos and gadgets, stuck in never-ending loops of TikTok’s latest trending soundbite, how are we meant to focus on the things that matter? How are we meant to pay attention to things like the Right to Mine Bill, or other political decisions that allow for technological progress to plunge ahead without any of us noticing until it is too late? Now is not the time to be distracted and yet, it is becoming impossible to focus within the digital din.
On the flip side, technological progress has no interest in true silence. What profit or innovation can be obtained in the act of staying silent? Undeniably, companies will capitalize on the desire for silence but how many do so to merely sell further noise? Noise-cancelling headphones to better hear your music. Soundproof booths to better conduct your calls. It is never true silence that is obtained but rather a quiet that allows for continued productivity. The stillness and self-reflection of true silence does not fit into the objectives of progress.
Some might argue that there are select few companies out there that do seek to produce quiet with our health interests in mind and here, as promised, it is worth returning to the smart city projects aiming to reduce the sound of nightlife. When smart city projects praise their new products which provide “highly accurate and detailed data” to optimize, regulate, and enforce noise pollution, their seemingly genuine objective for silence should be taken with a grain of salt. While noise undeniably needs to be considered more seriously in a vast range of areas, urban planning being at the forefront, a city’s architecture has never been apolitical and neither has the sounds within it. Nightlife noise, especially, has been tied to a city’s topography and the communities that come to life in the evening, ranging from explicitly political spaces like queer bars to more implicit examples like Spain’s tomando al fresco (taking the cool air) tradition whereby elderly generations often sit on their porch to talk once the heat of day has faded. In many of these spaces, to monitor noise not only implements a limitation over communities that rely on sound to exist, but also feeds back into the digital surveillance state, adding to the growing data-based system of discrimination and bias.
Silence can be oppressive; its ability to do so is seen every single day as the voices of marginalized communities are left unheard. But the power of technology is just as much in its ability to create noise as in its capacity to stifle it and, with noise being used to silence, it feels like a fever-pitch is being reached. It feels as though everything is screaming, so perhaps now is the time to listen.
[1] That being said, I do not understand people who run around a park or a city with an entire speaker on their back – I’ve seen them, you’ve seen them and they remain a mystery in why they do what they do.