The Quiet Side of the Pandemic: How Lockdowns Unintentionally Protected Hearing

industrial scale photography, clean documentary style, infrastructure photography, muted industrial palette, systematic perspective, elevated vantage point, engineering photography, operational facilities, Vast field of interconnected acoustic dampening towers, made of weathered steel and perforated metal cones, arranged in precise geometric rows fading into the horizon, their once-vibrating plates now still and coated in dew, backlit by the dim orange glow of a dusk sky, atmosphere of eerie calm and suspended energy [Bria Fibo]
When the city fell silent, hearing loss rates declined—not from medical intervention, but from the absence of noise. Similar patterns emerged during the Blitz and after the 1918 pandemic: health improvements emerged from disruption, not design, and vanished as routines returned. The question is not whether silence was beneficial, but whether institutions noticed it at all.
In the early 1940s, during the Blitz in London, hospital records showed a surprising drop in cardiovascular events—despite stress and trauma, the collapse of daily commuting and industrial activity led to cleaner air and quieter streets, offering the body unexpected relief. Decades later, researchers uncovered a similar anomaly: hearing-related complaints dipped during wartime blackouts, not because of better ear health, but because the city went silent. Fast forward to 2020–2021, and history whispered again: when the world paused, our ears finally got a break. The pandemic, for all its devastation, became an uncontrolled experiment in auditory preservation—revealing that the greatest threat to hearing wasn't disease, but the relentless noise of modern life. And just like after the war, as sirens returned and offices reopened, the silence faded, leaving behind a question: will we remember what quiet felt like? [Citation: Liang et al., Annals medicus, 2026] —Sir Edward Pemberton