Becoming an adversity whisperer: Is it rude to (not) be loud in America?
The underbelly of the American culture might have more to do with volume than we realized. Here is a deconstruction of loudness and quietness in the US.
“I can’t hear you. Speak up.”
Hard-working baristas who have a lot to do say this. And rightly so.
But how did we end up getting yelled at in a coffee shop?
Yes, sometimes people get our coffee orders wrong. And sometimes we just weren’t clear when we ordered.
Either way, I find myself getting yelled at in the US, whenever I am too quiet.
Professors say this in class, too. Especially to non-US students who grew up accepting to show quiet reverence to authorities.
In Indonesia, my teachers would write on white boards. If even a peep came from the back of the classroom, they’d turn their heads. And a single glare was enough to silence the whole thing.
“Sit and listen,” was the message.
But the first semester I was in the US, I saw the reality in my US history class:
50% of the final grade comes from what they call, “Participation”.
Back home, I was never told to “speak up.” Not once.
When you’re loud, you could hear people whisper. That’s when you know you’re too loud.
So when I came to the US in high school, getting told by everyone in America to be louder—was strange. It felt like I was doing something wrong and I didn’t know what it was. So …
To ‘make it’ in America, do you have to be loud?
Recently, I traveled back to Indonesia to visit my mother’s home in the rain forest island of Sumatra—home of the near-extinct Sumatran tigers and the Sumatran black coffee.
Then, I was already fully aware that even how we order our coffee, is slightly different from how people do it in the US.
We went in a big group. And most of us were Americans. Now that I’ve lived in the US for many years, admittedly, I love that we’re loud. It’s liberating to feel safe enough in what we have to say.
But during this trip to Sumatra, I was suddenly reminded of how loud we are. The local airplane that we took were occupied by mostly local natives who are going back home to their hometowns on the volcanic island.
Unlike most flights I took around the US, this flight was different. On this flight, I could only hear our voices. It felt as if we were the only ones speaking in the cabin. But a quick head pop up from my seat told me something different.
The locals were leaning into each other in their seats.
They were speaking.
They just weren’t loud about it.
It was an odd sensation. When I came to the US years ago, I felt like I had to hide who I was. It’s almost a bad thing to be quiet. So I started raising my voice. It felt like I was hiding something for a while.
This time around, coming from the US, I felt the need to hide that very volume I had fought so hard to find.
But my mother’s people in Sumatra wasn’t even known to be the quietest group in Indonesia. They are known as the cattle warrior-herders clan who traversed mountains. And while they shepherded their livestock, they adopted a love of singing. Loudly. Even their local dialect, the Batak Script, is emphatic. It calls upon the speaker to be louder.
I can also tell you from many memories of family gatherings—that the Sumatran Batak people are usually NOT that quiet. My late uncle whose comedy, swag, and 80s haircut resemble that of rock and roll’s Bon Jovi himself, came to mind.
But I still had questions.
Is it better to be loud in America?
If it is, would it then be rude (not) to be loud in America?
And what is the reason behind all this?
One theory is that the US, having one of the most sizable land masses in the world—is just big. Big enough to make resonating your voice from one house to the other, from one town to the other—necessary.
In Europe, you can take a train ride from one country to another in under 3 hours. In the US, a three hour flight only takes you to the neighboring two states. Out of fifty states! If you want to visit a relative, sister, parents, in-laws, expect long travels.
Even when TSA and airport security yells at you with:
TSA Officer: Ma’am? MA’AM! Please DO NOT step over that line!
Thalia: Oh, sorry I didn’t see it.
TSA Officer: It’s the yellow line right in front of you.
Thalia: OK. Got it.
TSA Officer: And you have to PUSH your bags into the X-ray machine. No one’s going to do that for you.
<awkward silence while I did what she said>
That’s modern US traveling.
But just imagine what it must have been when the pioneers had to travel on carriages. Parents carrying their babies across the unforgiving country, riding “Shotgun” (front passenger seat), and literally carrying a shotgun to protect the carriage from roadside thieves.
Perhaps raising your voice was first a function of necessity.
If you don’t raise your voice and warn your fellow travelers of the danger ahead—you could die. If you can’t command a split-second audible warning to your at-harm traveling party—one that can be heard over the bang of a shotgun—you could also die.
Perhaps it’s also that same bold frontier spirit that we see in coffee shops in the US.
Whether you like Starbucks or not, when it comes to expansion—of voice or of coffee—Starbucks knows what they’re doing. Fifteen thousand stores in the US is a rare expansion.
And perhaps that survival spirit is one that prompts all the yelling whenever a clueless non-US customer orders their cappuccino too quietly.
I get it, though.
Volume is often clear. Almost as clear as comfort.
We can sense this whenever we’re at a restaurant at 3 PM. or at 11 PM. And you’re the only one there eating. The people working behind the counter are staring at you. And there’s no one else around to help temper the volume of your conversation.
My immediate reaction is always, “This is SO uncomfortable.”
All the well-intentioned, cliches sayings to “Make yourself at home,” is pretty nearly impossible to fulfill.
No, I don’t feel at home.
Not when the stares are louder than the silence.
Silence can get SO uncomfortable, that the top 1% of the job market, employers, CEOs, and seasoned business owners—often use it as a non-verbal ace move … to end a negotiation and get what they want.
But …
Why do we like loud sounds?
Back when I advised Fortune 500 fast casual restaurants, there’s one word that every restaurant want:
“Activity.”
It signals buzz, liveliness, and comfort. Without it, restaurants and coffee shops could smell their impending death. A quiet restaurant means no one’s home. And in the food business, an empty house means empty pockets.
And perhaps our voice volume embodies this active spirit.
But I believe the active spirit is deeper than it is loud.
Take a look at an audio transcript of how Franklin Delano Roosevelt described “Americanism”.
Did you notice that?
Generosity and trust.
Before I came to the US, I had never heard these words associated with coming to the US. There is an assumption that Americans are individualistic. And to the extent that we don’t want people trashing our homes and destroying our personal property—that is correct.
But I will never forget a time when I was traveling solo on a road trip in the US. I had just finished inhaling a burger I got from a nearby gas stop.
That’s when I heard a POP!
In a panic, I hurried back to the gas stop and pulled up. My tire was flat. Then a guy just came out of nowhere.
Guy: Do you need help with that? I have a body shop not too far from here.
Thalia: I’d have to call the tow truck to get it to your shop if that’s the case.
Guy: Don’t bother. Do you have a spare in your trunk?
Thalia: Yes, I think so.
Guy: Hang on a sec. Let me just get a couple of things from my trunk and help you with that.
Thalia: Oh … That’d be great.
Just like that.
What exactly is American culture?
Americans may be loud at times, but that’s because generosity can only be expressed in trust. And being generous in volume represents that trust.
The good Samaritan who helped me wasn’t just generous. He made me feel safe in the middle of nowhere. He gave me comfort when the hope of it was slim.
Keeping someone from overcoming adversity, with the active omission or abuse of volume—IS ungenerous.
And the search for generosity, and the comfort it provides—is something Americans can do freely. Whether they do so by being quiet or loud, matters less.
That’s the underbelly of the American culture.
Now the question is:
How can one get what they want without having to be loud in the US?
Consider how California Roll was invented. If you don’t like sushi at all—chances are you would’ve still heard of it before. It became everywhere.
But how did this humble creation turn into a global success—exactly? I don’t remember an announcement for it. No one was being loud about it. Business Insider talked about with brilliant Japanese Canadian chef, Hidekazu Tojo.
“I came 1971 to Vancouver. That time, no sushi restaurant. Canadian people no eat raw fish. Sometimes they like to say, "I'd like to try same thing that Japanese people eat. OK, but I cannot eat the seaweed." They afraid. "No, no, no, no." OK, if you don't like the seaweed, that's fine. Then I did it inside out.”
Someone just came up with what then became a popular and often expensive product–
By turning a traditional item inside-out.
It’s almost like he just did it. But you and I know, things don’t just happen.
The key, of course, is in making time and room for good accidents to happen.
I’m curious to hear, what’s your opinion on the best way to get what you want in the US, without having to be loud?
For more on how to make this possible, try these references. In no particular order:
Build: An Unorthodox Guide to Making Things Worth Making by Tony Fadell
Resilient: How to Grow an Unshakable Core of Calm, Strength, and Happiness by Rick Hanson and Forrest Hanson.
Silence: In the Age of Noise by Erling Kagge
The Power of Talk: Who Gets Heard and Why by Deborah Tannen
Make Time: How to Focus on What Matters Every Day by Jake Knapp and John Zeratsky
Different Cultures See Deadlines Differently by Bhaskar Pant
7 Guidelines for College Student Professor Interactions by Sarah Wood
Sensitive: The Hidden Power of the Highly Sensitive Person in a Loud, Fast, Too-Much World by Andre Solo and Jenn Granneman
Walking in this World: The Practical Art of Creativity by Julia Cameron.
Extreme Ownership: How U.S. Navy SEALs Lead and Win by Jocko Willink
The First 90 Days: Proven Strategies for Getting Up to Speed Faster and Smarter by Michael D. Watkins
As someone who was nearly mute from severe social anxiety from the age of 11 to 15, I find it interesting that you seem to equate volume with confidence. As I overcame my anxiety, by switching into a school I felt comfortable with, my volume increased ...maybe a bit too much.
Ah the beautiful PNW. I’ve yet to visit. Any favorite trails/hikes, Joe?