The Search for Quiet II
Is the National Radio Quiet Zone in West Virginia something that might particularly interest introverts?
I’ve written before about introverts and the search for quiet. Because physiologically, introverts have a lower tolerance for external stimulation, many of us value quiet places as a refuge from the bustle and noise of modern life.
But what counts as quiet? I had occasion to ponder this after reading The Quiet Zone: Unraveling the Mystery of a Town Suspended in Silence by Stephen Kurczy. The book’s title and subtitle might lead you to expect a cloistered town where residents aren’t allowed to honk horns, whoop it up or speak above a whisper. Instead, its “quiet” refers to “radio quiet.” Within a 10-mile radius of the Green Bank Observatory in a sparsely settled nook of West Virginia, cellphone, wifi and microwave devices are legally forbidden. Astronomers there imposed a no-signal zone to maximize the listening capability of the observatory’s steerable radio telescope, the largest in the world.
However, the book gradually reveals that these strictures are widely ignored. Until 2011, the Green Bank quiet zone had an enforcement officer who would drive around with a electromagnetic sensor device to identify and discipline violators. But after that man’s retirement, administrators dialed back attempts to catch those surreptitiously polluting the local atmosphere with wifi, microwaves or other electromagnetic signals. It was a futile effort, like trying to hold back an ocean tide with a picket fence. When author Kurczy drove around the supposedly electronically silent zone with a Green Bank official in 2018 or so, the latter’s detector device encountered more than 200 unauthorized wifi signals within five miles of the observatory.
Most likely Kurczy felt more disappointed by the extent of the cheating than he explicitly expressed in the book, because he described himself as having been attracted to Green Bank by the idea of electronic and physical quiet. He hadn’t owned a cellphone in a decade. He rued the time he reached the summit of Mount Katahdin in Maine, the austere and remote terminus of the Appalachian Trail, and heard another hiker blabbing on their cellphone. He cherished the simplicity of life in Green Bank and how its relative quiet enhanced friendship, appreciation of nature and spiritual connection.
Interestingly, Kurczy seemed to have little patience or sympathy for a certain group of people also attracted by the radio-quiet premise of Green Bank: so-called “electrosensitives.” These were people who felt their bodies reacted badly to electromagnetic technology. They visited or moved to the area thinking that they would find a restful zone where their symptoms would abate. Throughout the book Kurczy presents their stories with sarcasm and distance. Even the book’s index casts scorn on their beliefs by putting the word “evidence” in quotes in the entry for electromagnetic hypersensitivity.
After finishing the book, I felt sad that Green Bank residents made choices that diminished the calm, restorative power of their electronically equipped community. But some of these choices seemed understandable. For example, although wired Internet was allowed, it was underpowered, propelling many for practical reasons to seek unallowed workarounds. On the other hand, landlines were also permitted, and as someone who rarely uses my smartphone except when traveling, I had a hard time sympathizing with the urge to be connected to the Internet and nearby or distant friends every single second.
For me, a takeaway from The Quiet Zone was that dialing back on technology for a slower-paced, less jangly lifestyle probably can’t be imposed from above. Unless it emerges as a considered choice from community members, it most likely will have limited cooperation. The Green Bank Observatory zone included kids and some adults who hadn’t chosen to settle in a place with its restrictions. After all, most families comprise a range of personalities, from extroverts who thrive on constant cellphone chitchat to introverts who blossom in quieter spaces.
Digital and physical quiet might therefore succeed best in an intentional community, like a monastery or a retreat center. Perhaps the electrosensitives need to band together and purchase an island where they can create a conducive lifestyle. In the meantime, introverts can gravitate to libraries and wilderness spots for some imperfect, if still restorative, peace and calm.