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When retired celebrity Melodie Rumpuss (not her real name) bought the old rectory in Spiffingham, little did she guess that having a church next door would shortly find her in Court. It turned out that she had only viewed the property on weekdays, and also not on Wednesday evenings when the village worthies foregather in the belfry for a practice. This fictitious example is typical of a multitude of real, ongoing cases where, as one venerable parish bellringer in Devon recently observed, one has to "remember the complainant has moved to be near the church, the church hasn't moved to them."
The church bells of Old England are reckoned by some to be a glory of the isle — tradition, and all that. Some even obey their Sunday calls to Eucharists and Evensongs, or, on a can't beat 'em, join 'em basis, become bell-ringers themselves. It is a very popular social pastime in many villages as, unlike the pub, there is no call to make conversation. The danger of going deaf is preferable to the danger of getting punched for voting the "wrong" way on Brexit.
Hell's Bells
Becky Clark, the Church of England's director of Churches and Cathedrals said "The Church Buildings Council supports the continued use of church buildings as places of worship, including proclaiming their presence through the ringing of bells." This notwithstanding the hundreds of complaints about church bells to Environmental Health departments nationwide every year, alleging statutory noise nuisance under the 1990 Environmental Protection Act. For such noise to qualify, it must, according to Defra, "do one of the following: unreasonably and substantially interfere with the use or enjoyment of a home or other premises; injure health or be likely to injure health". The C of E's 2008 General Synod took the view that:
"The Courts exercise judgment as to where noise comes on a continuum between the mildly irritating and the intolerable. There is a need for an element of give and take, live and let live. But the personal vulnerability of an individual complainant affected should be ignored in law. The Court will seek to balance the competing or conflicting interests of all parties affected. ... A person who chooses to live near a church cannot reasonably expect the same freedom from noise as he would expect in some other place."
In early 2019 the then SoS for Communities and Local Government, Sajid Javid, suggested there were moves afoot to create new planning rules which would stop people from forcing councils to silence church bells. He told the Daily Telegraph: "Churches have been part of British life in towns and villages for centuries. Their bells should not be silenced by new housing going up which is why planning policy will be strengthened to ensure it will be up to developers building new properties nearby to identify and tackle noise problems".
Ding Dang Dong
As every polyglot schoolchild knows, Frère Jacques was keen on church bells, as in "sonnez les matines". Not only in quasi-secular France, but in Catholic countries generally, the bells are partout. The Angelus rings out o'er valley and vineyard three times a day, each involving eighteen carillons. So, fifty-four bongs of the bell daily, not counting early Mass, ordinary Mass, Benediction, deaths and funerals, and that's just weekdays. (In Ireland, it's on the radio too.) Perhaps it's true that, as the poet Ezra Pound once said: "The act of bell-ringing is symbolic of all proselitysing religions. It implies the right to pointlessly interfere with the quiet of other people".
Secular Steeples
While the soundscape of bells may be absorbed into the experience of the landscape, in France as elsewhere a newer arrival on the noise front is causing grief: namely, the wind "farm". Turbines have sprung up everywhere, alternative church steeples, defying the Devil of Carbon. In a recent courtcase, a Belgian couple named Fockaert received 110,000 euros compensation for non-specific damage to their health caused by wind-turbines sited 700 metres from their home in the Tarn region of France. They claimed the noise — "blade swish" — was like "a washing-machine continually turning". The Guardian's comment:
"an Australian study found that sickness attributed to wind turbines is more likely to have been caused by people getting alarmed at the health warnings circulated by activists. Researchers said it was 'essentially a sociological phenomenon' and that giving it a name like 'wind turbine syndrome' and 'vibro-acoustic disease' was a key feature in its spread."
The case was won at appeal, citing a new WHO definition of health: "Health is a state of complete physical, mental and social well-being and not merely the absence of disease or infirmity." Such perfect well-being precludes ever feeling a bit ratty, then. A Canadian windfarm Enquiry concluded: "annoyance is not a pathological entity," but a "subjective response that varies among people to many types of sounds," such as a nearby train line or flight path, or indeed blade swish.
Simon Chapman, an Emeritus Professor of Public Health at the University of Sydney, compiled a list of all the diseases, symptoms, and generally bad things being blamed on wind turbines. Among the 247 things people have linked to "wind turbine syndrome" were ADHD, autism, anger issues, indigestion, cancer, shoulder pain, loose stools, painful urination, yawning, bee extinction, and confused echidnas.
Windbags and Wind-Ups
The Fockaerts have long since moved away. Not everyone can do that. In Britain, a Noise Working Group set up by the Government attempted to steer a middle course through a complex of interests, including the overarching demand for more renewable energy. Their 175-page report stated that they have "sought to protect both the internal and external amenity of the wind farm neighbour. Wind farms are usually sited in the more rural areas of the UK where enjoyment of the external environment can be as important as the environment within the home." You don't say. Along with much ho-humming about "variable modulations", they admit the impossibility of measuring turbine noise in high winds, because it's then too windy to do the measuring. It turns out perception of noise depends on the position of the observer, so just shift your house a bit to the left, OK? Sorted.
Belling the Cow?
In Switzerland, the prevalence of cow-bells is causing concern among the – er – concerned, who allege that cows are subjected to decibels beyond endurance. Scientists have now 'proven' that cowbells have an impact on cows' wellbeing. In a PhD study involving more than 100 cows on 25 farms, animals were fitted with 5.5 kilogram bells plus monitors to gauge the cows' movements, heart rate and eating habits. Some animals were fitted with bells that didn't ring, to see how they reacted to the weight. Both had a negative effect on their eating behaviour. The effect on milk production was not measured. The loudness was 100-113 decibels. The Swiss Accident Insurance Fund says if a human were exposed to 100 decibels for eight hours per day, it would make them ill.
In a recent court case against church bells in Devon, the bell-ringing practice went on, and on, for four hours. Were the campanologists all teetotallers? Did they not have homes to go to? In this case the complaint seems justified. And this suggests a compromise solution for such conflicts: bells can be muffled ("put a sock on it") and rung less often, for shorter times, to the same effect. As for those poor cows, a 5.5 kilo bell is ridiculous when a little tinkly one would do.
Traditional noises have their rights, no doubt, but what's to be done about more modern peace-polluters is anybody's guess. While bells are built to last, wind-turbines have a limited lifespan. Tidal power may one day replace them. Instead of blade swish, sea swoosh. Meanwhile, try silicone earplugs. They're the best.