If ‘silence is golden,’ why do we squander it so foolishly? If you try finding ‘peace and quiet’ in contemporary life, you will be gob-smacked to encounter it.

We praise the sounds of nature: babbling brooks, whispering leaves, bird song. And granted, there are buzzing mosquitos and growling bears, but it has been shown that humans need the restorative powers of the outdoors. When nature takes a destructive turn, we anthropomorphize its “nasty: weather, “raging” floods or describe (the sound of) tornadoes as a fast approaching freight train.

Which brings us to the notion that the sound pollution which affects us is man-made. There is little need for a litany of these sounds or bludgeon the reader with examples. Suffice it to say they are from mechanical contraptions (transportation and manufacturing,) and from the electronic: televisions, radios, computer devices. For every dream there is a car and a road. On every mountain there is a cell tower.

Even trail hikers, miles from ‘civilization,’ hear passenger jets or helicopters overhead.  There is literally no escape from man-made intrusions on silence, not in office elevators, car dealership waiting rooms, bank lobbies, doctor’s offices, restaurants and, of all places, gasoline pumps, much less personal spaces with every phone and appliance incessantly beeping, pinging, or talking to you.

The consequence of all this cacophony gives permission for people to raise their voices even when there is little background noise competing with them. As decibels rise, so too belligerence.

As man-made noise increases those enjoyable sounds of nature are being lost. Though there may be a myriad of causes, the sounds of nature seem to be disappearing. A simplistic statement, perhaps, but, though I live in a rural setting, I have not heard the whip-poor-will of my childhood in decades. I hear instead, pick-ups varooming up the highway, radios so booming as to rattle my windows, while logging trucks come farting down the hill to the stop sign.

Like light pollution that erases the starry sky for most Americans, sound pollution has decreased our hearing abilities. Many younger folks are experiencing tinnitus and partial hearing loss. Literally. (According to the World Health Organization, “an estimated 17% of teenagers and 19% of people in their 20s have signs of noise-induced hearing loss.”) But the overload of information, the “noise” of news has also isolated us from each other.  We don’t (or can’t) listen to each other as is evident in many areas of our society. Humanity tends to destroy the things it purports to love. So, what is the value of silence? It is so rare that it must have some worth. I fear that it is like fool’s gold.

Though not synonymous, silence and solitude seem to go together, especially when considering mental health. The dictionary definition of the latter is ‘the quality or state of being alone or remote from society.” It may be the last part of this definition that is most relevant here. Solitude is NOT the same as the intimated isolation, alienation mentioned above. When there is a barrage of sounds constantly bombarding us, it is hard to feel in a state of personal control. Thoreau stated (in Walden, “Solitude”) “I never found a companion that was so companionable as solitude.” Young people do not know solitude except as an ‘ancient’ concept. Don’t confuse solitude for the isolation and alienation our young people feel as they face their dystopian future.

Seeking (practicing) solitude is an ancient concept, used primarily as a tool for mental/spiritual ends: whether by the Desert Fathers, discovering scientists, Chinese mystics, creative artists, or contemporary Buddhist bikkhus in upstate New York.  Google (that worst offender) books on solitude and you will find a respectable number. One purports to explain “the science and power of Being Alone.” There is a fad for everything.  Purely by the number of these self-help guides, it is obvious that people are afraid of silence and for that matter, solitude.

Yet not so common now-a-days, silence and solitude have become a prized solace for some. To enjoy solitude is to be intimate with one’s thoughts, to be comfortably alone in one’s own mind, to be concentratedly aware, mindful. To be undistracted.

Will silence and solitude become extinct? Probably not. Will artificial intelligence ‘know’ silence? solitude? the peace of mind for which we strive.

Frederick Wilbur received his BA from the University of Virginia and an MA from the University of Vermont. He has authored three books on architectural and decorative woodcarving. His two poetry collections are As Pus Floats the Splinter Out and Conjugation of Perhaps. His work has appeared in many print and on-line reviews including Shenandoah, The Atlanta Review, The Comstock Review, The Dalhousie Review, Rise Up Review, and Mojave River Review. He was awarded the Stephen Meats Award by Midwest Quarterly (2017).