Without noise, postmodern man falls into a dull, insistent uneasiness. He is accustomed to permanent background noise, which sickens yet reassures him.
Without noise, man is feverish, lost. Noise gives him security, like a drug on which he has become dependent. With its festive appearances, noise is a whirlwind that avoids facing itself. Agitation becomes a tranquilizer, a sedative, a morphine pump, a sort of reverie, an incoherent dream-world. But this noise is a dangerous, deceptive medicine, a diabolic lie that helps man avoid confronting himself in his interior emptiness. The awakening will necessarily be brutal.
The Power of Silence: Against the Dictatorship of Noise
Cardinal Robert Sarah