In an age where we’re constantly being sonically assaulted by other people’s music choices, viral videos, and tinny loudspeaker conversations, a new haven of peace and serenity has emerged, like an oasis of calm in the desert. And this haven is… Wetherspoons.
No, you’re not hallucinating. Sir Tim Martin’s ubiquitous chain of intriguing carpeted pubs has just rolled out a new policy across all 792 of its venues, banning pubgoers from taking calls on loudspeaker mode or blaring music from their phones. Signs will be going up in its premises, warning customers to use their phones in silent mode or to use headphones.
A statement from a Wetherspoons spokesperson explained that the decision came as a result of “complaints from customers, who are being driven nuts by other people’s videos and amplified phone conversations”.
Sir Tim doubled down on this in his own proclamation. “In order to avoid customers being driven chicken jalfrezi by a cacophony of sound, we are kindly asking phone users to pipe down.”
OK, painting your local Spoons as some kind of silent retreat might stretch the limits of credulity to the very limit, but unlike some of the pub chain’s previous initiatives – remember when they rolled out those Brexit beer mats? – this is certainly a policy that many of us can get behind. Over the past few years, public spaces and public transport seem to have become a surround sound free-for-all, where being out and about means being barraged by a steady stream of tinny noises emanating from smartphones.
You could blame TikTok, with its interface that encourages us to scroll through an endless stream of random short videos, creating a truly nonsensical aural tapestry for anyone who hasn’t got the pleasure of seeing what’s on the screen (yes, the user could use headphones, but for the most part it seems like this is too much to ask).
You could point to the rise of voice notes, or video calls, which seems to have had a trickle-down effect, making yelling into your phone camera on a FaceTime call – and blasting out the other person’s responses for all to hear – more common and therefore somehow an act fit for public consumption. You could gesture uselessly towards a general erosion of civility. Or perhaps the death of self-awareness, with everyone moving through the world as if they are the main character.
Why are you, a grown adult, broadcasting the dross that you’re scrolling through on social media to the world?
There are plenty of potential factors that have played into this godawful noise landscape, but whatever the reasons, we can surely all agree that the end result is deeply, deeply irritating. I certainly don’t expect public spaces to be completely silent, or even particularly quiet. I’m not particularly fussed by people with loud voices, or jarring laughs. If you’re going out, you have to deal with a certain level of hustle and bustle. In fact, sometimes there’s a certain joy to be found in this kind of ambient noise; often I can concentrate much better in a café, soundtracked by the low-level chatter of others and the regular exclamations of the coffee machine, than I can in my quiet flat.
But there is absolutely nothing ambient about being audibly assaulted by someone else’s digital noise and five-second clips of whatever nonsensical audio snippet happens to be trending on TikTok right now. It’s so inane and thoughtless that it seems to have the power to activate a deeper level of annoyance; it suggests that you think your need to scroll in public is greater than everyone else’s right to a certain level of peace. It’s no wonder that earlier this year, a YouGov survey found that 62 per cent of people would support £1,000 fines for people who play their music and videos out loud on public transport (the Liberal Democrats have called for an outright ban on “headphone dodgers”).
And frankly, it’s also a very embarrassing habit. Why are you, a grown adult, broadcasting the dross that you’re scrolling through on social media to the world? Shouldn’t you have a little bit more shame than that? And if you’re in the pub, shouldn’t you actually be, you know, chatting to your friends and attempting to make some noise in the real world for an hour or two, rather than immediately defaulting to the infinite scroll?
As yet, it’s not clear just how Spoons will be enforcing their new rules. Will there be a “three strikes and you’re out” policy, or zero tolerance? Perhaps the former would be fairer, given that sometimes this behaviour is just a result of technological incompetence, rather than any malign intent (I was mortified the other day to realise that my Bluetooth headphones hadn’t correctly connected to my phone, and I’d been blasting my fellow bus passengers with inane stop-start audio from my Instagram feed).
However, it will work in practice; I’ll be raising a glass to anyone who takes a stand against this modern-day scourge – here’s hoping that others will follow their lead too.
