Noise is everywhere. These days it feels impossible to find a corner of the world where you can hear yourself think without a notification chiming in the background, my neighbors’ footsteps as they come home from school all cheerful, doors slamming, construction workers shouting next door, the street coming alive…

We’re constantly surrounded by environments that stimulate us visually — and not only visually. Noise pollution is increasingly called out and studied; the city of Paris has even put measures in place to reduce it — I won’t go into the details here.

My point is simple: we’re surrounded by more and more noise, and it has serious consequences on how we live and how we think.

Noise kills.

Studies show that overexposure to noise increases the risk of cardiovascular disorders; it also affects our cognitive performance and the quality of our sleep (and I’m not talking about your neighbors celebrating their favorite football team’s victory midweek). According to the European Environment Agency (EEA), roughly 100 million people in Europe are exposed to sound levels considered harmful. In some urban areas, noise levels regularly exceed 65 decibels — the threshold the World Health Organization (WHO) considers damaging to health. Noise can therefore kill us, quite literally, or at the very least make life much more complicated. As you will have understood, it’s not just about hearing loss. There are countless articles on the subject — but this isn’t the point I want to make today, even if it was important to mention our collective health.

We live in a world where noise pollution is more present than ever, and it’s not exactly trending in the right direction. Even though we’re becoming more aware of the importance of silence and a flood of noise-reducing gadgets are taking over the market (in 2021, global sales of noise-cancelling earbuds topped 40 million units), the reality remains deafening — if you’ll pardon the pun.

As I was saying above, noise doesn’t just affect our health; it also affects our cognitive performance — and therefore our ability to focus and be productive. A Cornell University study found that exposure to noise can lead to a 66% drop in employee productivity in noisy workplaces. Noise undermines our concentration and, by extension, can handicap our creativity.

You can probably see where I’m going — the subtitle gave me away ages ago. Subtlety has left the chat.

Silence opens the door to reflection

Three years ago, I read The Diamond Cutter: The Buddha on Managing Your Business and Your Life, a book by Michael Roach that mixes Buddhist principles with business strategies and personal development. To be honest, I didn’t find it particularly easy to digest, but I did take away one lesson I consider essential for developing a project, a business, and a human being in a fulfilling way: the importance of silence and isolation.

So, let’s talk about “Forest Week.” Even if forests and cottages are all over the place now — we’ll come back to that — when the book was written (in 2000) that wasn’t really the case. Roach explains that it’s essential to regularly take one full week where you cut yourself off completely from the world — no computer, no phone, no internet if possible — and focus on yourself and one specific problem/project. Stepping away from our daily environment and the constant interruptions that cohabit with us allows us to fully engage with the goal of that week. That goal can be total rest, idleness, or reading; there’s no obligation to be “productive.” The idea is to cut the noise, literally and figuratively, to give your cognitive faculties some room to breathe.

Take Bill Gates, for example, known for his habit of regularly retreating to a completely isolated place with nothing but books and something to write on. During those periods, he dives deeply into reading and reflection. It’s a kind of “Forest Week.”

Our capacity to face silence and solitude is an asset we shouldn’t neglect. In a world where we’re available to everyone at any hour, where cities never sleep, where everything seems to accelerate without end, the privilege of a freeze-frame and a life in slow motion is something many see as inaccessible. And yet? Is it really such an unattainable luxury? I don’t think so.

We can all choose to stop sleeping with our phones by the bed, to turn on “do not disturb” when we work, to uninstall apps that trigger anxiety, to explain to collaborators and clients that no, we do not owe them an instant reply.

We’ve lost sight of the value of taking a beat before answering — my great-grandmother would tell us to turn our tongue seven times in our mouth before firing off replies to our emails, Slack, WhatsApp, Discord, and the rest. Silence and solitude with our thoughts open up a new, not-at-all-negligible space for reflection. So how do we gift ourselves a life that escapes the tyranny of cacophony?

Exile yourself to think better

Is the answer exile? Let’s not be drastic. Let’s also steer clear of the false image social networks keep selling us: “slow life” under the coconut trees or nothing. I’m talking about a healthier life, a salvific silence that lets you hear yourself again. And yes, that involves a change of environment.

I’m not reinventing the wheel when I say your environment (not just the number of decibels it throws at you) has a huge impact on your creativity, your productivity, and your general level of happiness. So it makes sense to talk about changing environment to remedy overexposure to noise — again, both literal and figurative.

I wanted to start with the example of Warren Buffett (sharing life with an analyst has consequences — here I am with investment-world examples straight from “value” land): he chose to live in Omaha, Nebraska despite his success. He talks about staying close to his roots and about the benefits, for his thinking and decision-making, of keeping his distance from big-city frenzy.

After two visits to Omaha, I can confirm: you are far from the noise! Landing by plane makes it obvious — you touch down in the middle of endless cornfields. Believe it or not, but the adopted Parisian in me gets a little heartache every time I leave Omaha; don’t get me started on the slap in the face when you step onto the RER coming back from the airport…

I’ll double this with Guy Spier, investor and author, who also explains that he very intentionally chose where to settle — for work, and to give his family the best possible environment. He highlights the calm that helps him stay even-keeled when financial markets get agitated.

Sound familiar? Social networks, online presence, the injunctions and frenzy that come with them are sometimes — often — toxic and not strictly necessary for success (go take a look at Warren’s website; I’ll grant you it’s not the core of his job… but still).

Taking distance — virtual, and real — encourages thinking for yourself, taking a step back, and consuming information more sanely and responsibly. I think distance reconnects us to our need for depth, both as individuals and as a society.

The practice of solitary retreat — spiritual or philosophical — goes back ages and cuts across cultures and religions. Hermits appear throughout history and are often vehicles of wisdom.

In a way, Warren Buffett and Guy Spier are modern hermits. They’re not fully reclusive or cut off from the world, but they keep a reasonable distance that allows them to live healthily and perform at their best in their field of expertise.

Even though spiritual retreats are booming and New Age is more fashionable than ever, achieving a form of sustainable, reasonable retreat — one that gives us access to a gentler life — seems to be a dream for many. It’s clear that plenty of my peers (millennials and the gens that follow) are quitting jobs one after another, seeking meaning, questioning the future of work and the deeper meaning of their existence, and looking for that delicate balance they want to build between personal and professional fulfillment. Which brings me to my final observation.

Why do we all want to be catapulted into The Holiday?

The one and only Rosehill Cottage where Cameron Diaz spends Christmas.

’Tis the season, you’ll say — add the prospect of Jude Law knocking at your door unannounced, and you’re sold. It’s also a symptom of a yearning for rural life and a quieter, calmer way of living. In an era of noise, speed, and “more, more, more,” the dream of a cottage tucked away in the Highlands or the English countryside seems to seduce more and more people.

Whether it’s the trends I follow religiously on Pinterest, the decor newsletters I subscribe to, the copywriters’ newsletters, on Spotify, and obviously all over my Instagram recommendations (despite my voracious consumption of Beyoncé and Taylor Swift content — if it ain’t broke…), cottagecore is everywhere! I’m perfectly aware my recommendations are biased by what I consume — and yes, I have very much joined Team Hermit: under throw blankets, mainlining herbal tea (my closest friends will confirm that I drink “night-time” blends the minute I wake up; I have no intelligent explanation for this behavior).

Still, I find it interesting that today two versions of “slow life” seem to face off.

• On one side, the influencers/solopreneurs living their best life on Indonesia’s beaches, dangling a four-hour workday that will make you a millionaire. Their stories have inspired loads of people to quit everything in the hope of getting there one day, with the post-Covid economic context making full remote more accessible. As you’ve guessed, I’m not especially convinced by Camp One.
• Opposite them, a rather heteroclite bunch of bookworms, nature lovers, people into British inspirations, fans of kitsch and vintage trends, and more. The ones who always preferred autumn and the calm of solitude to the brouhaha of popularity seem to be entering their revenge era (I’m indulging clichés a bit). For them, slow life is a return to a rural lifestyle (or small-town/village life — the hype around Gilmore Girls and its revival on Netflix a few years back says it all): simple, warm-hearted, scented like Christmas movies — and a very real marketing trend that plenty of pieces have decoded in detail, including this one (recommended by Chloé in one of her newsletters — which I also recommend).

I don’t intend to analyze the marketing considerations behind cottagecore in detail. What interests me is how perfectly it embodies an ideal of life we can easily project ourselves into — by contrast with our existence where we’re constantly solicited. Beyond rooms full of books and trinkets, fireplaces, sheds and winter gardens, cottagecore is an ideal of calm and serenity. What’s interesting is that it primarily appeals to millennials and Gen Z, generations that constantly express a quest for meaning in everything they do. No surprise, then, that an ideal where having geese in your garden ranks right up there with the dream of affording a three-room flat in the capital would find traction.

I have to admit my friends are leaving Paris for greener pastures — not by constraint but out of a desire for a calmer, simpler, slower life. This ideal of slowness and self-care that cottagecore embodies is, to me, a key to sustainable success and quality work — for founders and for employees.

I believe that taking distance, seeking silence, and stepping back are the keys to carrying out a project that will have a real long-term impact. I also believe that’s what keeps you from losing yourself in your work, from losing your priorities or your identity by trying to satisfy an algorithm.

So I wish you a stable entry into winter — and that you offer yourself a setting that cuts you off from the brouhaha as effectively as the latest pair of headphones. So you can hear the sound of your thoughts more clearly — and the voices of the people who truly matter.