Sound-Politics in São Paulo (Currents in Latin American and Iberian Music)

220 Pages·2019·8.764 MB·English

by  Leonardo Cardoso

The group of words, police, policy, polity, politics,
politic, political, politician is a good example of
delicate distinctions. (Maitland 1885, 105)
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INTRODUCTION s
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The Noise Multiple e
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This book is an ethnographic study of controversial sounds and noise control /c
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debates in Latin America’s most populous city. It discusses the politics of collective p
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living by following several threads linking sound-m aking practices to governance r/2
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issues. Rather than discussing sound within a self-e nclosed “cultural” field, I ex- 6
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amine it as a point of entry for analyzing the state. At the same time, rather than 13
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portraying the state as a self- enclosed “apparatus” with seemingly inexhaustible b
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homogeneous power, I describe it as a collection of unstable (and often contradic- e
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tory) sectors, personnel, strategies, discourses, documents, and agencies. C
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My goal is to approach sound as an analytical category that allows us to access lle
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citizenship issues. As I show, environmental noise in São Paulo has been entangled u
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in a wide range of debates, including public health, religious intolerance, crime r o
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control, urban planning, cultural rights, and economic growth. The book’s guiding 1
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question can be summarized as follows: how do sounds enter and leave the sphere No
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of state control? I answer this question by examining a multifaceted process I de- m
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fine as “sound- politics.” The term refers to sounds as objects that are susceptible er 2
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to state intervention through specific regulatory, disciplinary, and punishment 2
2
mechanisms. Both “sound” and “politics” in “sound- politics” are nouns, with the
hyphen serving as a bridge that expresses the instability that each concept inserts
into the other. By denoting coexistence with the hearing body, sound opens up the
Sound-Politics in São Paulo. Leonardo Cardoso, Oxford University Press (2019).
© Oxford University Press. DOI: 10.1093/oso/9780190660093.003.0001
2 Sound-Politics in São Paulo
politics of shared existence; as a matter of defining and performing the collective,
politics opens up the acoustics of human and nonhuman associations.
The book proposes a different way of studying sound. In following noise
controversies in a major metropolis through different institutional frameworks,
I show the relation between the ways residents experience certain sounds and
the ways certain groups (scientists, lawmakers, police officers, lawyers, judges,
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etc.) stabilize a definition of, and thus a “proper” way of hearing, those sounds w
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as noise. In describing various institutional validation registers (science, pol- loa
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itics, law, etc.) the book argues that noise is in fact multiple. I here draw on ed
Annemarie Mol’s book The Body Multiple. Mol argues that ontology “is not from
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given in the order of things, but that, instead, ontologies are brought into being, ttp
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sustained, or allowed to wither away in common, day- to- day, sociomaterial ://a
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practices” (Mol 2002, 6). This is different from perspectivism. We don’t have a
d
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different viewpoints of a given sound, but rather different versions of it. This m
ic
is also different from a type of relativism that takes each version of noise as .ou
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being as valid as any other. As Mol puts it, “while realities may clash at some .c
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points, elsewhere the various performances of an object may collaborate and /b
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even depend on one another” (Mol 1999, 83). As they become controversial, k
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sounds are constantly putting into test institutionalized validation registers 2
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(e.g., does this noise ordinance recognize this specific sound as noise?) and /c
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generating dissonance between these registers (e.g., does the predominance p
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of this noise mean the government places religion above law?). Throughout r/2
9
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the book, I show how homeowners, real estate and transportation groups, 6
9
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lawmakers, police officers, public officials, legal scholars, prosecutors, judges, 13
1
and teenagers all negotiate versions of a sonic event in order to establish a b
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reality and stabilize it as either licit or illicit. This is the book’s first central e
e
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claim: noise is ontologically multiple. C
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This ontological multiplicity relates to the question of why, what, how, and lle
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when one is expected to hear. For instance, as Brian Larkin argues in his study on u
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the religious use of loudspeakers in Nigeria, auditory practices in urban centers r o
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require the constant management of attention, a “quintessentially modern phe- 1
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nomenon defined as an activity of exclusion” (Larkin 2014, 996). In his sound- o
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scape research, Murray R. Schafer describes modern life as being permeated by m
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signals (foreground sounds such as sirens), soundmarks (unique community er 2
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sounds such as those of waterfalls and volcanoes), and keynote sounds (constant 2
2
background sounds such as the hum of an air conditioning unit). Against an ur-
banity permeated by loud and constant mechanical sounds and low- resolution
acoustic environments (i.e., invariant and homogeneous), the author defends
the preservation and documentation of meaningful, communal, natural sounds,
Introduction 3
and the more thoughtful composition of everyday soundscapes. For Schafer, the
misuse of sound technology has caused the proliferation of “audioanalgesia”1 and
“schizophonia”2 and drastically worsened our environments and the way we hear.
Sonic classifications are thus embedded in notions of attention, constancy, and
technological mediation. This relates, for instance, to the auditory practices that
come into play when one ignores aircraft or traffic noise but considers the “leisure
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noise” of bars unacceptable because the former relates to work ethics and eco- ow
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nomic growth and the latter to a bohemian culture of laziness and waste. lo
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Hearing thus requires the exercise of certain techniques of attention as forms ed
of civility. But distinguishing “subjective” (noise as an auditory attitude) and fro
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“objective” (noise as legal- technoscientific fact) assessments of sonic events is http
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far from straightforward. Hartmut Ising and Barbara Kruppa have suggested ://a
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that sound intensity, duration, and frequency range (the three most common a
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attributes for defining and measuring noise) cannot explain annoyance alone. m
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Instead, “nonacoustical variables, such as situational and individual moderators, .o
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exert a considerable influence on noise processing while remaining unchanged .c
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under noise exposures” (Ising and Kruppa 2004, 8–9 ). Along similar lines, Jian /b
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Kang argues that a combination of acoustical and non-a coustical elements directly k
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affect the perception of sound. These include the presence of tonal components 52
1
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and low frequencies, as well as the regularity and duration of quiet periods. Other /c
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aspects that influence the perception of sound as noise include fear associated p
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with the sound, the type of activity being conducted during exposure, and how the r/2
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neighborhood is perceived (Kang 2006). Karin Bijsterveld argues that European 6
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and North American legislation on noise has been entangled in a “paradox of con- 1
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trol”: lawmakers are deeply invested in measuring and controlling sounds that can b
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easily fall into the noise- as- waste category (such as aircraft noise), but evade the e
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more controversial community noise from neighbors, bars, and restaurants, and C
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so on. Consequently, she argues, “Citizens have [ . . . ] been made responsible for lle
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dealing with the most slippery forms of noise abatement and distanced from the u
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most tangible ones” (Bijsterveld 2008, 3– 4). r o
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Noise’s ontological multiplicity also relates to issues of territoriality, always pre- 1
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sent in the act of hearing. Noise, to echo Mary Douglas (1966), is matter out of N
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place. From preventing coppersmiths from working near intellectual activity in em
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ancient Rome (Bijsterveld 2008, 56) to prohibiting iron- wheeled horse carriages er 2
from entering cities at night in medieval Europe (Berglund et al. 1999, iii) to 02
2
regulating airport operating hours (Ashford et al. 2012), city governments have
1 “The use of sound as a painkiller, a distraction to dispel distractions” (Schafer 1994, 94).
2 “The splitting of sounds from their original contexts” (Ibid., 88).
4 Sound-Politics in São Paulo
tried to tackle noise problems by controlling space with mechanisms such as nui-
sance and zoning laws. But noise often disrupts these rules, permeating intricate
patchworks of private and public land and raising concerns about property use.
Citizens favoring individual rights demand that the state refrains from interfering
with their choices of enjoying property by, for instance, engaging in the cathartic
pleasures of loud music. Such a right is particularly important for nightclubs, bars,
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restaurants, sports organizations, and religious groups. Noise controversies as w
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diverging expectations about the use of space can resonate with class, racial, reli- loa
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gious, and ethnic differences.3 ed
Does sound- politics include any sound? In theory, yes. But things quickly change from
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on the ground. Why are certain sounds prohibited more quickly and forcefully than ttp
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others? What justifies the authorization of loud and harmful sounds, such as those ://a
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produced by airports or construction sites, next to residential neighborhoods and a
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disenfranchised communities? What exactly is “noise” in the urban space? In m
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Noise: The Political Economy of Music, Jacques Attali inverts the Marxist structure- .ou
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superstructure analysis of capitalism to claim that music (the superstructure) in .c
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fact anticipates broader socioeconomic (structural) developments. For the author, /b
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music is “a herald, for change is inscribed in noise faster than it transforms so- k
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ciety” (Attali 1985, 5), and “the noises of a society are in advance of its images 2
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and material conflicts” (Attali 1985, 11). As much as I recognize the importance /c
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of contributions by Schafer and Attali in showing new possibilities for studying p
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noise, Sound- Politics in São Paulo moves in microscopic detail in opposition to such r/2
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comprehensive and conjectural narratives about sound, power, and modernity. 6
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Unlike both authors, I am not interested in offering a speculative, prescriptive, 13
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or abstract conception of noise. Although this book attempts to theorize through b
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sound by examining noise within power relations, it does so following from eth- e
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nographic data, thus focusing on a well-d elimited geocultural milieu. By focusing C
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on an ethnography of sounds as fluid entities entangled in a variety of social lle
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assemblages, I make the explicit effort to break away from the pre- established u
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music- noise- silence framework on which both Attali and Schafer rely. However, as r o
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I hope it becomes clear throughout the book, more ethnographic detail does not 1
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mean less theoretical depth. o
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Sound- Politics in São Paulo dialogues with the explosion of interest in sound m
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across the humanities. In the last fifteen years, sound studies has built substan- er 2
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tial academic momentum, with the publication of edited volumes,4 special journal 2
2
3 See, for instance, Radovac (2011) on noise and class, Smith (2006) on noise and race, Weiner (2014) on
noise and religion, and Boutin (2015) on noise and ethnicity.
4 See Bull and Back (2003), Erlmann (2004b), Novak and Sakakeeny (2015), Bijsterveld and Pinch (2012),
Smith (2004), and Sterne (2012).
Introduction 5
issues,5 and the creation of a dedicated journal.6 Authors have shown special in-
terest in the materiality of sound (re)production, opening lines of inquiry at the
intersections of space, technology, and auditory practices. They have questioned,
for instance, the premise that music and speech are the exclusive routes for un-
derstanding culture.7 They also have challenged vision- centric narratives,8 which
often fall into sensory determinisms (e.g., hearing as more “developed” than touch
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but “inferior” to vision).9 However, in the emerging literature of sound studies, ow
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analyses of the administrative and legal- scientific seizure of the acoustic register lo
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outside Europe and North America remain scarce.10 On the one hand, as Jonathan ed
Sterne stated recently, “the West is still the epistemic center for much work in fro
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sound studies, and a truly transnational, translational, or global sound studies http
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will need to recover or produce a proliferating set of natures and histories to work ://a
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with” (Sterne 2015, 73). On the other hand, anthropologists equipped with an “eth- a
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nographic ear”11 have rarely entered modern institutions to examine how the state m
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mediates listening. This book thus represents an attempt to put into use the eth- .o
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nographic ear to produce a history outside but deeply connected to the West. .c
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The book also proposes a different way of studying the state. Noise provides /b
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a unique opportunity for examining issues of governance because it permeates k
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a wide range of institutions. Not only does noise enter the state in ambiguous 52
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ways (due to its ontological multiplicity, noted previously), but it does so— and /c
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this is crucial— at larger volumes than the state can cope with. With limited re- p
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sources and often navigating within turbulent political and economic tides, public r/2
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officials tend to regulate sounds that they 1) can easily specify and identify; 2) hear 6
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as imbued with negative ramifications (for health, for the economy, for political 1
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stability, for safety, for morals, etc.), especially when these public officials have the b
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support of the citizenry; and 3) can combat under the auspices of scientific quan- e
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tifiable facts. This is not an easy task, however, as all three variables are constantly C
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shifting. lle
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In a liberal democracy like Brazil, where the state has some level of account- u
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ability, the ubiquitous environmental noise has generated enough complaints r o
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5 See Bijsterveld and Pinch (2004), Jouili and Moors (2014), and Keeling and Kun (2011). e
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6 The Sound Studies Journal was launched in 2015 and is co- edited by Michel Bull and Veit Erlmann. b
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7 Samuels et al. (2010a, 2010b). r 2
8 See Erlmann (2010) and Sterne (2003). 02
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9 As Jonathan Sterne notes, the theological premise that “hearing leads a soul to spirit, sight leads a soul
to the letter” (Sterne 2003, 16) stretches from Plato to Walter Ong.
10 But see Ochoa Gautier (2014).
11 This expression was used en passant by James Clifford (1986, 12) to attack Western visualism. It was
later revisited by Veit Erlmann (2004b) to critique the anthropological reduction of the senses as “texts”
to be read.
6 Sound-Politics in São Paulo
to saturate the state’s input channels, despite the indifference of some officials.
Perhaps the police officer and the judge would rather deal with more urgent
offenses. Perhaps the municipal councilor and the mayor would prefer not to en-
rage the city’s powerful Evangelical caucus by going after church noise. Perhaps,
aware of the country’s reliance on the car and oil industries, politicians would
like to believe vehicles move as silently as they appear to do when these same
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officials glance at the city’s traffic jams from their office windows. Perhaps the w
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urban planner would think she can dismiss noise impact assessment in pla- loa
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nning the city’s new monorail line.12 The political scientist, the sociologist, and ed
the economist will claim there are more pressing issues about the future of the from
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city worth investigating— say, voting behavior, homicide, and property values. ttp
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But time and time again, residents bring noise to the equation. Unlike any ://a
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other nuisance or pollution, noise is fluid, ephemeral, recurrent, and capable a
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of entering even the most fortified upscale enclaves (Caldeira 2000). Michel m
ic
Serres was right: noise is the ultimate parasite (Serres 1982, 4). This is the .ou
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book’s second central claim: contrary to what public officials may think, noise is .c
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pervasive, pulsating, and parasitic. It debilitates citizen, state, and the relationship /b
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between both. k
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Debates on environmental noise can help us understand how the techno- 2
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scientific ideals of European urbanity continue to inform notions of civility in a /c
h
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global region marked by relatively high rates of violent crime, economic inequality, p
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corruption, clientelism (i.e., patronage-d ependent relations), environmental deg- r/2
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radation, and conflicts over land ownership.13 Compared to major urban centers 6
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in Latin America, European cities are densely populated but relatively smaller. 13
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They went through slower urbanization pace and engaged early on in debates on b
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sustainability and environmentalism, which explains the more representative e
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presence of acousticians and anti-n oise technological infrastructure. As a result, C
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European cities have created more robust mechanisms for tackling noise pollu- lle
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tion. Still, the World Health Organization has alerted that one in three Europeans u
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is annoyed during the daytime, and one in five has their sleep disturbed at night r o
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because of traffic noise (WHO 2011); although similar inquiry has not been 1
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conducted in Latin America, one can be sure the situation is worse in the region. In o
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2002, a European directive on the management of environmental noise required m
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the largest cities to produce noise maps and develop noise abatement strategies. er 2
0
2
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12 See “Monorail, a New Alternative to the Subway Transportation,” http:// www.metro.sp.gov.br/
relatoriodesustentabilidade- 2011/ en/ chapter- 05/ monorail- alternative.aspx.
13 For instance, see Weyland (1998) on corruption, Helmke and Levitsky (2006) on clientelism, Liverman
and Vilas (2006) on environmental degradation, and Mangin (1967) and Ortega (2004) on conflicts over
land ownership.
Introduction 7
Most of the anti- noise technology that circulates in Brazil (sound level meters and
data processing software) comes from Europe. For the Brazilian acousticians I met
during fieldwork, the technology that does not make it to Brazil— architectural
procedures, soundproofing materials, traffic noise barriers, and so on—a re
reminders of the country’s underdevelopment and of the ignorance and apathy of
its authorities.
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Also scarce are studies linking citizenship to noise in Latin America. Citizenship ow
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scholars do not discuss the problems of environmental noise as often as they do lo
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the problems of housing, crime, land ownership, voting, and public transportation. ed
I expand on Bijsterveld’s idea of the “paradox of control” and show that the hetero- fro
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geneity of “noise” as an umbrella concept (which contains music, cars, church bells, http
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airplanes, factories, street vendors, and more), the complexity of measuring it scien- ://a
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tifically, and the unsteadiness of its legal encoding all make this a particularly difficult a
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problem for the state to address. By examining how noise control plays a part in spa- m
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tial arrangements, the mobilization of public institutions, and the establishment of .o
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auditory parameters, the book shows that citizenship issues involve multiple forms .c
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of belonging to, and becoming in, the Latin American city. /b
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Citizenship scholars have noted that the gradual provision of rights in Latin k
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America evolved differently than in the Global North. In Brazil, social rights (edu- 52
1
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cation, housing, fair wages, etc.) have been historically used to obfuscate political /c
h
a
and civil rights. The centralization of power around authoritarian figures and the p
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prominence of the executive branch in the country were sustained with a “ruling by r/2
9
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decree” doctrine: the provision of social rights by the administration as a strategy 6
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to legitimize power and keep political opponents in check (Carvalho 2001). Roberto 1
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DaMatta argues that Brazil differs from the United States because it frames individu- b
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alism in negative terms, as something that threatens the totality—a totality marked e
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by heterogeneous and relational citizenship. For DaMatta, two powerful structures C
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of social interaction mediate citizenship in Brazil: one based on democratic discourse lle
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that valorizes anonymity, the public sphere, individuality, and deference to the law; u
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the other centered on personal relations, quid pro quo, friendship, and patronage, r o
n
where laws and rights are modified or circumvented according to personal interests 1
7
(DaMatta 1991). As James Holston notes, although this “differentiated citizenship” N
o
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(where social groups use social qualifications to regulate the distribution of power) em
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is blatant in Brazil, DaMatta’s clear- cut distinction between the two structures risks er 2
conceiving of law and lawmaking as somewhat unbiased. For Holston, Brazilian law, 02
2
on the contrary, “is already personalized, developing since colonial times with per-
sonalization. No special pleading is required. The individual is the seat of rights that
are distributed to him or her because s/h e is a certain kind of social person” (Holston
2008, 20).
8 Sound-Politics in São Paulo
The dissemination of French post- structuralism14 and its reading of urban space
as socially produced (and thereby open to political negotiation), together with in-
tense urban migration and gentrification, stimulated a shift of focus in citizen-
ship studies from the nation- state to the city. Stimulated by Henri Lefebvre’s
ideas on the right to the city, scholars have suggested that issues taking place at
the city level, including public housing, transportation, and security, were crucial
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for understanding broader discussions about citizenship and collective rights.15 ow
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Drawing on his study on spatial segregation and land rights in São Paulo,16 loa
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Holston defines as “insurgent citizenship” a new paradigm of social demands that ed
emerged in Brazil in the late 1970s, when the country was returning to representa- from
h
tive democracy after decades of military dictatorship. In this model of citizenship, ttp
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disenfranchised communities disrupt the established norm of differentiated citi- ://a
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zenship by co- opting the democratic game and bargaining with politicians to im- a
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prove their living conditions. In the 1980s and 1990s, the inclusion of disfranchised m
ic
groups in decision- making spaces in Latin America through citizenship was linked .ou
p
to the sharp growth of nonprofit organizations and political activism at a mo- .c
o
m
ment of political instability and economic crisis. As Evelina Dagnino explains, /b
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in Latin America “the building of citizenship was seen at the same time as a ge- k
/3
5
neral struggle— for the broadening of democracy— which was able to incorporate 2
1
2
a plurality of demands, and as a set of specific struggles for substantive rights /c
h
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(housing, education, health, etc.) whose success would deepen democracy in so- p
te
ciety” (Dagnino 2005, 2). r/2
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Like most countries, Brazil’s legislature understands that environmental noise 6
9
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is, for the most part, a problem more properly addressed at the city level. São Paulo’s 13
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wealth, income inequality, and political history make it a fascinating field for b
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investigating how auditory differences become articulated as rights. Left- leaning e
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labor unions, neoliberal real- estate power brokers, conservative Evangelicals, C
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bohemian youth, and cosmopolitan intellectuals are all well represented in São lle
g
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Paulo, and audibly so. In the late nineteenth century, the presence of a massive u
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population of Italian immigrants with virtually no political rights who worked in r o
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factories under harsh conditions culminated in the country’s first strikes (Khoury 1
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N
1981; Biondi 2009). In the late 1970s, the massive population of factory workers o
v
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in São Paulo and neighboring cities was a crucial factor in the emergence of the m
b
Workers’ Party (Partido dos Trabalhadores, or PT), which was founded by labor er 2
0
union leaders, environmentalists, and social scientists (Kowarick 1985). In the 2
2
14 See, for instance, Lefebvre (1991, 1996).
15 See, for instance, Brenner et al. (2003, 2012), Harvey (1989), and Zukin (1995).
16 See also Holston (2001).
Introduction 9
1988 election, the first after twenty years of dictatorship, São Paulo was one of
the first capitals to elect a candidate from the PT. The party has elected two pres-
idents17 and several mayors, including the mayor of São Paulo from 2013 to 2016,
when most of my fieldwork was conducted.
In this densely packed city, it is not hard to observe how environmental noise
can place liberal individualism in conflict with democratic collectivism. Whereas
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democratic discourse treats all noise as potentially harmful to human health, ow
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using sound level meters to obtain reliable measurements in decibels, local actors lo
a
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have constantly drawn attention to the more subjective ear. For them, the “signal” ed
embedded in noise is made of “good,” “necessary,” “bad,” and “useless” decibels. fro
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Evangelical leaders and bar owners justify their loudness by highlighting either http
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the relevance of their holy message (as an inevitable byproduct necessary for ://a
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saving souls) or the economic importance of their activity in relation to its noise. a
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Unlike other public controversies, the concept of environmental noise emphasizes m
ic
potential “polluting” activities in everyday auditory experiences while bringing to- .o
u
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gether a range of sounds that exist for various reasons and affect different ears .c
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m
in different ways. Sound- Politics in São Paulo focuses on the tensions between de- /b
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mocracy and liberty, the former based on equality and popular sovereignty and k
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the latter on individual rights and the rule of law. That both are manifested in our 52
1
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current governmental frameworks does not mean they are smoothly integrated. /c
h
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On the contrary, I contend that the two are intrinsically irreconcilable. As Chantal p
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Mouffe puts it, “What cannot be contestable in a liberal democracy is the idea that r/2
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it is legitimate to establish limits to popular sovereignty in the name of liberty. 6
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Hence its paradoxical nature” (Mouffe 2000, 4). As it mediates individual rights, 1
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public interests, and attempts to demarcate who and what belongs to the acoustic b
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demos, the state is constantly trying to anchor sound-p olitics within its regula- e
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tory domain. In so doing, it vibrates enduring cracks in the “democratic paradox” C
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(Mouffe 2000). lle
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Drawing on Mouffe’s defense of a radical democracy that integrates irreconcil- u
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able differences in the very idea of a demos rather than emphasizing consensus, r o
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I am attentive to different ways of being political. Bruno Latour identifies five 1
7
usages for the word “political.” First, there is politics whenever new associations N
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between humans and nonhumans are established, such as sound level meters or em
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new instruments for observing the impact of noise on the inner ear. Second, poli- er 2
tics emerge whenever an issue becomes a public problem; for example, campaigns 02
2
against noise pollution. The third usage of politics comes into play “when the
17 The most popular PT leader, Luiz Inácio “Lula” da Silva, is an immigrant from the Northeast state of
Pernambuco and a former labor union leader in the Greater São Paulo area.
10 Sound-Politics in São Paulo
machinery of government tries to turn the problem of the public into a clearly
articulated question of common good and general will” (Latour 2007, 816). An ex-
ample would be lawmaking and the administrative practices designed to control
noise, which rely on the ethical values of collective life.
Another possible meaning of politics refers to the process through which
well- behaved citizens discuss and deliberate possible outcomes in the public
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sphere. In São Paulo, an example of this is the revision of the Master Plan, w
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a piece of legislation that regulates urban growth and requires several public loa
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hearings to stimulate dialogue between state and civil society. This level of ed
politics entails participants articulating their decisions based on “rational from
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choice”— a notion dear to economists and political scientists. The final possible ttp
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facet of politics is the stage upon which issues are black- boxed and thereby no ://a
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longer seen as “political.” We can include in this category the relationship be- a
d
e
tween sound exposure, decibels, and hearing loss, which is virtually apolitical m
ic
nowadays, with thousands of scientific studies confirming these relationships .ou
p
as stabilized facts. .c
o
m
In approaching sound-p olitics as an unstable series of associations mediated by /b
o
o
the state, I draw heavily on actor- network theory (ANT). According to Latour, “ANT k
/3
5
claims that it is possible to trace more sturdy relations and discover more revealing 2
1
2
patterns by finding a way to register the links between unstable and shifting frames /c
h
a
of reference rather than by trying to keep one frame stable” (Latour 2005, 24). In p
te
the last three decades, ANT has stimulated nuanced approaches to science (Latour r/2
9
9
1987; Mol 2002), law (Latour 2010), markets (Callon 1998, 2017), and modernity 6
9
8
(Latour 1993, 2013; Law 1986, 1991). For ANT, society is not a pre-e stablished cat- 13
1
egory with an explicative force, but a localized set of heterogeneous and tempo- b
y
R
rary associations. ANT- inclined scholars retrace social assemblages by following e
e
d
associations between actors, which can be “anything that does modify a state of af- C
o
fairs by making a difference” (Latour 2005, 71). In so doing, these scholars describe lle
g
e
a multifaceted network, which is never described as a pre- existing entity, but as a u
s
e
“series of associations revealed thanks to a trial— consisting in the surprises of the r o
n
ethnographic investigation— that makes it possible to understand through what 1
7
N
series of small discontinuities it is appropriate to pass in order to obtain a certain o
v
e
continuity of action” (Latour 2013, 33). m
b
In that sense, whatever we understand as “noise” or “state,” “sound” or “politics,” er 2
0
entails a wide range of human and nonhuman actors, disciplinary techniques, in- 2
2
stitutional trajectories, and bureaucratic modi operandi, some of which I propose to
detail in this book. For instance, the set of associations necessary for generating
a noise ordinance includes not only the goodwill and expertise of engineers and
lawmakers, but also a large number of actors such as documents, political parties,