Manifold | Furkan Keçeli

Acoustic Ecology and Noise

The Six Elements Air Is Made of: Rain
Acoustic Ecology and Noise

Scientists proclaim it loud and clear: sea levels are rising, glaciers melting and natural habitats being destroyed more and more by the day, while clean water resources are dwindling, apace with rainfall. As droughts become more and more frequent across vast geographic areas, so the yearning for rainfall surges. It appears as though the growing shortage of water suitable for human use itself confers value onto raindrops and snowflakes. On the other hand, the depletion of the world's underground water resources and the inconsistency of precipitation rates are not phenomenons that occur within the ecosystem in and of themselves, independently of everything else. The destabilisation/alteration in the balance of any given thing is likely to be affected, to a greater or lesser extent, by whatever that thing is related with; in other words, changes, transformations, deterioration, decrease or increase sustained by some of the elements related to the subject at hand inherently drive the other related elements to change as well. Just as drought must not be appraised as arising from out of nowhere on its own, but as intimately depending on an array of factors, and a downward tilt on one side of the scale must be accounted for by a rise on the other side(s), likewise, no ecological degradation or modification should be assessed as in isolation. Indeed, imputing drought solely and exclusively to the lack of rainfall and the depletion of groundwater reserves may amount to attributing the result to the result. And yet, when acoustic ecology and sound pollution are at stake, the opposite side of the scale is often ignored, and the relation map, the very thing that would allow to shed light on causes and effects, fails to be drawn at all. In this regard, the problems we encounter are, or tend to be, attributed to the deluge of sounds, that is, to the profusion, abundance and ill-assortment of sound(s) which rain(s) down upon us. At such a juncture, the concept of noise, coming in rather handy, is promptly put to good use. However, sound simply does not multiply and turn into noise all of a sudden, independently of other factors either; in fact, the real problem may not even be in the profusion of sound, but in the increase and proliferation of its sources, mirrored by the decline of its producers. As it happens, rather than a problem, many things we call noise actually evince a solution.

As a glance at the definitions being made of noise across various sources will tell us, the most widespread criterions retained are generally the amount of data and the context, in other words the milieu in-between that data. Most definitions grounded in the phenomenology of sound refer to the high quantity of information at stake on the one hand, and to the difficulty of identifying a context that this quantity would befit on the other. Yet definitions of another nature also turn their gaze to the perception of sound, and refer to the difficulty of grasping/perceiving sonicity, due to the factors mentioned in the above example. As far as definitions go, the frontier past which sound turns into noise may be likened to that which separates rain from cloudburst: the decisive criterion is the quantity of "downpour," so to say, which sound discharges in a given unit of time. Defining sound as noise on the basis of the quantity of data that it holds is analogous to determining whether or not a downpour deserves to be designated as a cloudburst on account of the number of raindrops it contains. On the other hand, designating sound as noise based on its perceptility is equivalent to deciding on the matter by focusing on its apprehension, that is, the impact it has on the "I" that sustains it, or yet, as per the rainfall analogy, judging whether a downpour qualifies as a cloudburst by looking at the impact it leaves/the damages it causes on earth. In that sense, what identifies sound as noise is most often either the obtention of a significant amount of data resulting from technical examination, or the identification of a relation between the experience of sound and the imprint it leaves on perception. One could rightfully consider that in both cases, noise is being defined, in one way or another, by virtue of the determination of either a human sensation or a surmised standardisation/average of sound. Lacking such a conjecture, no one could know how much, or according to what, data is a lot; in the absence of an average, there can be no such thing as a lot. Just as rainfall is called a heavy downpour when it exceeds 100.0 mm, a limit must be crossed for sound to be designated as noise. The problem when it comes to sound is that it remains a mystery where, and on what basis this boundary should be drawn because, for once, no one's sensory thresholds are the same as anyone else's; besides, neither do people incline their ear to the same thing, nor do they construe it in their minds the same way; lastly, the world cannot be considered as limited to humankind only. Just as no snowflakes are alike, neither can two ears be exactly the same.

Only an intention may determine whether the data contained in a sound is too much to form intelligible meaning, or too scarce to generate the slightest significance; briefly phrased, noise is subjective. Therefore, the erratic fragments which reach the ear and reverberate sound inside the mind do not signify the tumbling of an inharmonious and senseless sonority down in the cerebrum, but rather the linguistic designation of the incapacity of a person’s ear to pick up harmony in that sonority. Sound is considered too much when it forces itself onto someone’s ear; too much for that ear, that is. And the more one remains exposed to a chaotic sound stream while being unable to mentally assign order to it, the less choice one is left with but to come to terms with that "meaninglessness". Depending on the intensity and duration of that confrontation, scepticism as to the possibility for this chaos to acquire the least meaning is likely to increase, question marks regarding one’s ability to perceive sonic order to pop up, the significance of the "I" that fails to make out that order to be brought into question, and reservations to growingly emerge as to what is to become of that "I" by the end of that process; for that particular person, the meaninglessness of a sound seriously undermines the significance and faculties of the "I" at stake. Noise not only questions, but also causes one to question the position occupied by, and potency of normative values, which have once been erected, and left there as such afterwards. That is the very reason why noise is so disturbing.

Even in case such an opinion is reached that the amplitude of sound is backed by a profusion of data, in other words, even if intensity (lit. “violence” in Turkish, TN) is perceived in the sound with regards to the flow of kinetic energy, that perception remains directly contingent on the sensory thresholds of the person’s ear and besides, every sound contains at least a degree (either mild or intense) of violence – if only potentially, depending on how it is being defined. Yet it is utterly impossible to standardise the intensity – either meaning or sensory-wise – of sound, due to the impossibility of standardising the hearing entity itself. Sound itself does not imply a certain degree of violence existentially speaking; or otherwise phrased, once identified as possessing a similar structure for each creature, a sound is intrinsically violent, as it causes harm to a certain extent. Indeed, it is impossible for anyone to hear a sound without some molecules physically hitting that person’s nerves. If the impact of certain molecules on the nerve endings in the ear is to be defined as a form of violence, one has to admit that every sound contains at least some amount of violence, which may feel excessive for some and negligible for others. Which is why the hearing thresholds of the human ear gradually wilt over the years, as it is worn down if only ever so slightly every time it perceives a sound.

In any scenario wherein the ear is not assumed as the ultimate adjudicator, sound is not labelled as noise; instead, its meaning is sought and scanned for, and when it cannot be found, concepts which describe the self, rather than the sound, step in. Noise is a political concept hinged on power. As such, it is a very handy notion, which any entity that construes itself as a power may employ if it should wish to get rid of a sound – and the potential meanings the latter could give rise to. Such a demand for eradication on the part of power – or the entities and individuals who consider themselves as in an official capacity – consists in fact of a fascist, self-centred and crassly ignorant desire for everyone to be placed in the same position. And the procuration of a supply meeting this demand results in the discovery of endless modes of ignorance through the latter’s mass-production, a method which all forms of power resort to in order to protect and even increase the force they have arrogated. While the designation of a sound as noise by any hearing person, institution or entity indicates that the latter’s power is being threatened by it, when proclaimed by its "creator," such a characterisation implies that the sound at hand was created with the intended objective of undermining one, if not more powers. Noise can only be produced as intended against power; if there is no power, sound cannot be regarded as noise.

Although this concept may perhaps lend itself to many usage models, the main boundary which it traces is quite clear: from a sound-oriented perspective, noise establishes the frontier between what is power and what is not. When used as a means of self-expression, noise signifies either not being in power and/or being against power(s); conversely, when used in order to describe sounds and establish a hierarchical order between them, it betokens being in power. In the opening lines of his book Noise: The Political Economy of Music, Jacques Attali stresses how noise is both an instrument of power and a means of rebellion against it, roughly for the same reason as exposed in the above. Accordingly, whoever has anything to do with noise stands either against a monopolistic order, or on the side of monopolisation. Noise not only hinders, but is expected to hinder the monopolisation of meaning, which is precisely the reason why it is not considered sound but noise. From a ruling power’s perspective, if there is no voice to be silenced, there is (or can be) no noise either. On the contrary, if there is noise, it has long been understood that certain voices must be silenced while others deserve to be amplified. Essentially, simply by using the word noise, the ruling power raises the sounds it either has issued or wants to issue – or the meanings it seeks to generate through these sounds – closer up to the top while downplaying the other; in stamping the other out, it amplifies its own voice and as it does, engenders both a demand to hear that voice and a desire to produce it.

Any sound may be perceived as noise, even in the absence of an intention to produce some, that is, a conscious attempt to upset power centres on the part of the entity that emits it. In fact, the mere consideration, or potential thereof, of a sound as noise, regardless of the intention behind its production, itself indicates that a power centre faces the obligation to either lose, divide, or share its power. On the other hand, any kind of sonority emanating from a "self" that has been authenticated to some extent may easily be perceived as noise under certain conditions and situations. The fundamental otherness, ambiguity and vagueness (with regard to its meaning) of a voice that emanates from the deepest layers of the self, mean that this voice poses a threat to the existing order and power, precisely due to the intrinsic uncertainty of the potential it carries. Whereas, in a market economy, everything must be categorised and sold as such, failing which what may be sold to whom and how cannot be established. Under that light, the fact that sound eludes categories poses a real threat to power. It proves remarkably challenging to categorise a meaningless sound, and accordingly to prompt the desire thereof. Likewise, there can be no sale of noise in accordance with market standards. Noise is but a "useless" sound in the eyes of the economy; as such, it merely signifies a workload, as it presents the system with a piece of sound material that must either be sold or disposed of. As a result of these operations, in the event that this noise can be silenced, an upheaval of power may not be achieved of course, but at the very least the speed of the monopolisation process may have been hampered. However, there exists an even greater threat to power: in case a sound cannot be silenced on top of the inability to achieve an adequate method of sales, such a situation indicates that its creator reserves the right to sell it in a non-standard way. In such a case, the ruling power runs the risk of going bankrupt at any odd moment.

Contrary to common belief, noise does not refer to undesired sounds, but rather to those required in order for acoustic ecology to reach a healthy stage. A steady acoustic balance depends on our reconciliation with what we designate as noise today, on our capability to ascribe value to it, and on a social structure that allows value to be ascribed(1). Steady acoustic ecology depends on a day-to-day, inner discipline that enables noises to be turned into sounds at every moment. Depending on the solidity of that inner discipline, society may forgo producing sounds which others regard as noise, without giving up on making sound for that matter; thus, the individuals become capable of both noticing and producing harmony with every other they may come in contact with. This means such a system that may – mentally – produce harmony out of virtually every sound. By the same token, it might be added that balance cannot be achieved through coercive methods. The imposition of any equilibrium by a ruling power, and the enforcement, through the suppression of noise, of such control that all sounds are rendered manageable and uniform, constitutes one of the main sources of the violence which may be exerted on or around sound. A person whose voice has never been heard or made to be heard, who has been either muted or sealed off, hushed up or stomped upon, inspires fear precisely because of how that person hasn’t been able to make it to exist within society. For some reason, humans first perceive the unknown as a threat, which they then try and defend themselves against. That is precisely why violence is inflicted on disadvantaged groups, groups defined as "others," other communities and other living beings. As a first step, the voices of those who are seen as appertaining to minorities, those who uphold other values, differing from the values observed by the majority, are silenced, in other words submitted to cultural violence, by being portrayed as noisy. Only then can they be gradually physically disposed of or, after having been made ready for destruction, handed over to society as an unknown, an object of fear, and thus left to perish. Noise, and the acoustic balance – particularly hard to identify – pertaining to it, are neither only related to the art scene or to daily urban life, we ought to add. On the contrary, the violence that pervades each and every aspect of life unremittingly succeeds in relating to the concepts of noise and acoustic ecology in one way or another.

Looking at the question from a relatively more common, day-to-day perspective, should the meaning of the words uttered by a person, or the intensity or violence of their utterance, or yet the mysteriousness of their music, and sensorial intensity of the data they comprise, be what we consider noise, or could it rather be that the real problem of acoustic ecology consists in our listening, unable to speak, unable to take the floor, to the sounds uttered by one selfsame mouth every evening, in the vibrations propagated across the whole world through the electromagnetic webs it weaves while we sit there listening, vibrations which, despite our incapacity to hear them with our ears, still penetrate our every cell, or still in the sense of physical, cultural and social oppression inspired in all of us by these vibrations? Really, is it the vibrations released all across the space in order for the whole world to be able to watch the same TV shows at the same hour every evening that are more harmful(2), or the sound/noise that emanates from individual’s heads? Furthermore, let us ask the same question this way: if indeed a person’s head did make "noise," could make noise, endeavoured to make noise and could reflect on its own noise, would the same head experience such a need for this many electromagnetic waves and mechanical sounds to be produced? In that case, are we now disrupting the specific vibration(3) of the world by emitting sound, or rather because we have relinquished the very act of emitting sound over to networks, algorithms, and mechanical tools, because we are gradually giving up the entire act of emitting sound itself, and because we have irremediably stepped into an ecosystem that compels us to give up? This swapping of sound(s) for sound for the sake of an effortless life is truly fatal, both mentally and physically. It seems easier to us to hand over this act, without thinking, nor having to, about which sound we should make, to a power that is more than willing to exert it so as to take advantage of the full force of sound; easier to endure sound as it is emitted from within the network, with all its physical, cultural and social pollution. Because if we were but capable of ascribing a little more value to our own voice, and truly dared make noise(4), we would find out that this does not result in our swimming amid volumes of sound, pouring down over us as though to beat the band. No, the main source of sound pollution, and of the problem of acoustic ecology, is not our making noise, but our failure to establish an integrated relationship with sound as an object, our failure to make sound. For instance, how loudly can a writer obsessed with writing, who does not refrain from making noise, search for his own voice inside his or her home, and how much electromagnetic waves does such a writer need? Or, still, does the sound emitted by a theatre comedian in the context of a play cause as much pollution as the network which disseminates social media contents to millions of different places at once? Or, yet, can the sound emitted by a musician, deeply buried in his or her music, looking to find what the object of his or her quest is within sound, be considered to cause as much painful, and "noisy" damage to the whole of life as the bombs that currently fall every day somewhere on the surface of the earth?

I sometimes hear artists say: "Art should not be mysterious, it should be capable of relating easily to society." No! It should be put forward, that is, the artist should put it forward fearlessly, without worrying whether the sound that is being demanded, that which sparks curiosity, will be perceived as noise or not, so that the artist may forge his or her own specific authenticity and be different, while putting people under the obligation of relating to unwonted things, and to him or herself, and add harmony to society the way he or she intends, assuming the risk of being regarded as the source of noise. Only thus may each specific value within society realise that each noise constitutes yet another raindrop (even if it should prove incapable of identifying what the value of other raindrops is), wend its own way down until the ground without hitting any other, and learn to softly drizzle harmoniously together.(5)

1. Depending, as far as the exact degree is concerned, on its capacity and the systems it relies on, the voice of a ruling power is always and concretely louder, more violent and dirtier.

2. The following are merely a few examples: the sounds, and electromagnetic waves emitted by various models of telephones, television sets and computers, along with the internet modems that these devices, and the base stations that these modems are in turn potentially connected to.

3. In case you wish to learn more about this vibration and its effects, you might begin your research by inquiring into the Schumann resonance.

4. Of course, the same may also happen due to reasons that are beyond our control. For example, even though going to work every morning, at least at the same hour, is not a choice, it may become compulsory. In such a case, the individual may perfectly and involuntarily be compelled to become a cause for traffic, and for the production of horn blaring as well.

5. We believe we possess information, which is essentially incorrect, according to which raindrops do not hit one another. As it happens, we are already moving one step further away from truth at every passing moment. So, what is the worst that could happen? Let us keep on moving in that direction a little more, and try to get somewhere for once...