Imagine that at the height of the Gospel reading during mass, a child behind you is playing with his iPad on speaker. Or, while inside a plane, the young foreigner beside you plays a video game on his phone without earphones.
On both occasions, I had to make the extra effort to let them know of the nuisance. In the first incident, one look at the parents gave them the message. The iPad’s volume was turned down, then eventually to zero despite some whining from the child. In the second instance, I had to offer the plane passenger my earphones (my cheap, disposable ones, of course) for him to use. His smile turned into a frown, then he turned off his phone and shut his eyes, ignoring me throughout the one-hour flight.
There were many other instances, in a coffee shop, clinic waiting areas, buses, and massage places, where you hoped they’d be decent enough to put their devices on mute, without my having to say, “Saba!”
Public space is a shared space. Yet these days, someone will force you to listen to their teleserye, action movie, or mobile game with all its explosions. I call it an invasion of my air space. I did not choose the soundtrack or movie or game. It’s not background noise. It’s an intrusion.
Technology has made the private public. Your entertainment does not stay in your living room anymore. You bring it with you. With smartphones and cheap internet, your show becomes mine, whether I like it or not. Earphones exist, but they’re apparently optional to many people.
There already is a law that recognizes noise can be a nuisance. The Civil Code defines a nuisance as anything that “annoys or offends the senses,” while the Revised Penal Code penalizes “alarms and scandals” that disturb public peace. Local governments, too, have ordinances regulating loud music, karaoke hours, and even firecrackers. By that logic, playing a teleserye on speaker on a bus or blasting a mobile game in a waiting room isn’t simply impolite; it’s a nuisance. If we can legislate for smoke-free zones and quiet hours, can we also make the case for mute mode for phones in public spaces?
If we cannot legislate or regulate, then perhaps there can be a courtesy campaign as a better solution. Think of the “no smoking” signs or the reminders to clean as you go. A “mute your phone in public” reminder notice could work in malls, coffee shops, and terminals.
This is not about technology but about respect. Shared spaces demand awareness of others. Turning your volume down is a small gesture that acknowledges the presence of the people around you.
Silence is a courtesy; it’s the sound of respect. In a world where our air space is already crowded with traffic, pollution, and digital chatter, a little less noise would be most welcome.