Ah, headphones. What a wild ride they’ve had over the years. From the bulky, clunky earmuffs with enough wire to tie down a small animal to the sleek, wireless earbuds that disappear into people’s ears like some modern sorcery. And don’t even get me started on noise-cancelling headphones—those things block out more drama than a glass of red on a Friday night. Honestly, the whole headphone journey has been… an adjustment.
In the 80s, when I was a kid, headphones were a clear signal: “Don’t talk to me.” It was as subtle as putting up a neon sign that said, “I’m listening to music, and you’re not important right now.” Simple, right? No one took offence. You weren’t being rude—you were just busy with your Walkman, recording your mixtapes off the radio, fingers crossed that the DJ wouldn’t talk over the intro to your favourite song. There was an etiquette to it. A mutual understanding.
Fast forward to today, and it’s a whole different ball game. People are walking around with headphones everywhere, all the time. They’ve shrunk to the point where you can’t even tell if someone’s wearing them. So you end up having a full-blown conversation with someone who’s actually knee-deep in a true crime podcast. And let me tell you, everyone’s got a different take on whether wearing headphones 24/7 is a brilliant idea or the slow death of human interaction as we know it.
For my parents’ generation, public headphone use is practically a sign of the apocalypse. They’ll see someone strolling through the supermarket, oblivious to the world, and I can hear their inner monologue: “What’s wrong with people these days?”
My parents grew up in an era where conversations happened face-to-face, whether you liked it or not. How are you meant to start a conversation with someone who is blocking out the world with music or a podcast? Unthinkable! They see it as rude, plain and simple. It’s hard for them to grasp that sometimes it’s not about avoiding conversation but survival. The world’s noisy, and frankly, if I have to hear one more stranger’s phone call on speaker, I’m going to start wearing my own noise-cancelling headphones everywhere.
At home, though, noise-cancelling headphones are a whole different story. Family members and neighbours alike have been saved from my terrible piano playing or my husband reminiscing as he blasts music from the 80s. They are a lifesaver for our 22-year-old daughter who lives with us, headphones practically glued to her head due to her sensory disorder (or is it her embarrassment of her parents? I am never quite sure). However, the moment we pop them on—poof—the world vanishes. Suddenly, a family member is lost in a podcast, album, or online class, and whilst most of the time this isn’t an issue, there are those moments when I’m waving my arms like an air traffic controller, trying to get their attention.
Our daughter is the worst. I’m not expecting her to be on high alert for me 24/7. Still, when I’m practically doing interpretive dance in the hallway, trying to ask her if she’s done her laundry, it’s hard not to get a bit salty. Sometimes, I wonder if she’s really engrossed in whatever she’s listening to or just pretending to avoid answering my questions. Smart kid. Didn’t we all try to ignore our parents? We just didn’t have Bluetooth to help us. We had to perfect the art of fake listening.
So, here is what’s putting a crackle in my audio: Why can’t people take their headphones off? If only for the five minutes they are being spoken to? Or when they’re ordering a coffee or paying at the grocery store?
The other day, I watched some headphone-wearer at the checkout, staring blankly as the poor cashier repeated, “That’ll be $12.50,” like a broken record. They had no idea they were holding up a queue of increasingly angry shoppers. I marvelled at the sheer audacity of it all. Are they being rude? In their own little bubble, tuning into their personal soundtrack and tuning out the rest of us unworthy humans? Or were they in survival mode due to the stresses of end-of-year sales? Maybe a little of both?
Nowadays, we assume that anyone wearing headphones must have some disorder. It’s easier to think they’re struggling with the noise of life and give them some space rather than risk getting it wrong when you demand they stop being rude. But here’s the kicker. According to some websites, only about 20% of Brisbane’s population has a sensory disorder. So, to those of you who feel lonely and insist on wearing headphones everywhere to keep yourself company—take them off! Give yourself a chance to be approachable. You might actually meet someone new!
Now, I’m not suggesting you need to strike up a deep and meaningful chat with every random person in the café. Still, if you’ve reached a point where no one’s making eye contact with you anymore, your headphones could be the culprit. Just a thought.
So, where does that leave me in this whole headphone debate? Are they rude? A little bit. Are they a lifesaver? Absolutely. They’re both. My parents’ generation will always think headphones are the downfall of society. Future generations will never leave home without them. And me? I’m somewhere in the middle – glad I don’t have to listen to everyone’s personal music choice at the gym but unimpressed when I am standing like an idiot waving my arms, trying to get someone’s attention.