‘Speech-fasting’ and the art of going beyond navel gazing

In an age of unprecedented chatter, could silence have a moment? In an interview with The Guardian, the Scottish singer Lulu revealed that on performance days, she rests her “instrument” by not speaking — or even whispering — a word until noon. Following the buzz generated by her practice of “speech fasting”, the benefits of silence for mental health, inner peace and clarity of thought have been much discussed, with links drawn to ancient practices in cultures around the world. The irony of all this noise about silence is, of course, besides the point.

But is there such a thing as true silence? Consider what happened when the avant-garde composer John Cage premiered his most well-known — and widely misunderstood — piece. Informally titled 4’33”, after the duration of its performance, it featured the pianist David Tudor who came on to the stage, started a stopwatch, sat down before a piano and closed the lid. Not a note was played — on stage. From amongst the increasingly uncomfortable audience came the sounds of chairs scraping, throats clearing and feet shuffling which, for Cage, were the “composition” — as he wrote, later in life, “Until I die, there will be sounds and they will continue after my death.”

Of course, the point of the piece was to get people to listen and pay attention to things they usually don’t notice. Like how difficult it is to sit in “silence” or, more importantly, that there exists a universe beyond one’s own navel. Silence is not merely the sound of no speech — it is the discovery of other lives, other worlds. Not surprisingly, psychologists who study the impact of silence have found that one of the most important benefits of a “speech fast” may be better interpersonal relationships. That’s something worth staying quiet for.