The most valuable thing I’ve gained from stepping away from social media is this: We are constantly bombarded by noise. It clouds our thoughts, weakens our attention, and pushes us toward the average — the easiest opinions, the quickest reactions, the loudest takes. In that flux, clarity is rare, and poor decisions become routine.
Some contemporary composers, as well as cultural thinkers more broadly, suggest that noise can be embraced and even enjoyed. But that can only be true if there’s a cognitive pattern behind it — something that offers structure, something we can think with. Without that, there is no line of thought to follow. Noise, in this sense, is anything that resists contemplation.
Noise is the overflow of misinformation. It’s not just distortion — distraction, excess, and the dilution of meaning. It floods the mind with stimuli but offers no shape, direction, or pause for reflection.
Unless we train ourselves to listen through the noise, to filter and focus, we risk becoming passive receivers. We hear everything, yet absorb nothing. In a world saturated with sound and signal, the ability to truly listen may be the most essential discipline we can cultivate.