On loud music, public etiquette, and the small courtesies we owe each other

I ran into a post on social media recently. It said: "If you live in an apartment building, do not play music loud enough to be heard inside homes you do not pay rent for." Someone in the comment section said they would play music as loud as they wanted, and if anyone had a problem with that, they could train their ears to only hear things in their own houses. I am not a psychologist, but that comment—and several others like it—made me worry that many of us are not okay.

I found myself thinking about this post the other day while sitting in a queue. The lady who came and sat next to me looked elegant in her navy-blue skirt suit. I do not have a trained eye for suits, but whatever she was wearing looked expensive. And you know what they say about the burden of wearing suits? When you wear a suit, you must behave like someone who has sense.

No sooner had my mind shifted to other things than this suit-wearing neighbour started playing videos on her phone with the speaker on. She was on TikTok, scrolling through the app.

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Surely, with that suit, she could afford AirPods—or at least the good old earphones. Instead, I had to endure the discomfort of learning about her personal interests. From what her algorithm was serving up, I picked up a few possible private details about her. For example, she seemed to be in the process of shifting careers. I could also tell she was looking up content related to healing from a devastating heartbreak.

I take personal boundaries seriously, and I was angry with myself for this involuntary breach of hers.

Honestly, why would anyone insist on playing music or videos loudly for a disinterested audience? I have tried, 
but I cannot come up with any reason anyone would play music loudly enough to bother their neighbours when they are not hosting a party.

In my quest to understand, I have come up with some possible reasons—because, well, being empathetic is crucial.

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Firstly, maybe they have hearing problems. This means they can only hear if the music is loud enough to reach the neighbour's house. I sat with this theory for a few days, but quickly dismissed it because I know one or two people who play loud music yet seem to hear quite well when someone speaks to them at normal volume.

Secondly, maybe they have the same taste in music as their neighbours? But what if the country music you play loudly every Saturday morning reminds your neighbour of a father they loved but lost? What if they avoid that genre because it surfaces pain for them?

When I was an undergraduate, I went through a phase of listening to Judy Boucher. My phone ringtone was one of her songs. If you are in your twenties, you know that your phone likely rings every 30 minutes—that classmate who wants notes, your older sister who wants to know what time your class ends, your mother calling to check if you are well, the chairperson of the club you belong to reminding you about a scheduled meeting. My phone rang often. 

One day, my best friend at the time told me that her late mother had loved Boucher's music, and hearing the song so frequently—we spent a lot of time together—brought her mood down. I changed my ringtone.

I was going to say maybe such people mistake their houses for crusades, parties or clubs, but I would hope not, because there is quite a distinction. If you are reading this and you like your music really loud in your house, or you do not use headphones when listening to music on your phone in public, I am curious to hear why. In my case against loud music, I am inviting us to think compassionately about our neighbours. We know you can do what you want with a phone you bought with your own money, or with a sound system you imported from China, but your neighbours also have a right to calm.

The writer is the Research & Impact Editor, NMG, [email protected]