We Take Our Silence With Us

Umberto Eco, one of the great intellectuals of the twentieth century, grew up in Fascist Italy and spent much of his life thinking about the rise of fascism in Europe, and the meaning of the anti-fascist resistance in Italy. This was a man who knew and had thought deeply about times of political significance!

In a 2011 essay, “Censorship and Silence,” Eco made a fascinating observation:

“As a result of noise, we have a deliberate censorship – this is what is happening in the world of television, in creating political scandals, and so forth – and we have an involuntary but fatal censorship whereby…an excess of information is transformed into noise. This has also created a psychology and morality of noise.”

He goes on to reflect that this culture of noise has become so pervasive, we have become so accustomed to it, that we become addicted to it. “There are people who cannot live away from the noise,” Eco writes. “This great need for noise is like a drug; it is a way to avoid focusing on what is really important.” He continues, “in losing the condition of silence, we lose the possibility of hearing what other people are saying…”

Dallas Willard described the spiritual practice of silence as “intentionally seeking the absence of manufactured noise, including our own talking.” In The Spirit of Our Politics, I put forward the spiritual practice of silence as an “essential discipline” that can “push back against some of the most destructive attitudes and impulses in our politics.”

Silence can appear to be anti-politics, and the claim that one “has been silent” about a topic is sometimes taken by itself to be a searing indictment. This kind of critique is most frequently lobbed at politicians and organizational leaders, but it is increasingly commonplace in our lives and daily experience, even but not only related to politics. As Eco points out, the creation of noise is now a reliable tactic for avoiding accountability and suspicion, whereas silence can seem to welcome it. Noise relieves us. We can welcome the distraction.

This dynamic is part of why I argue in The Spirit of our Politics that “Silence can be terrifying. We are comforted by noise. Different noises make us feel fun, productive, in control, alive. What do we hear in the silence? Who are we there?”

I have spent much of this year so far in meetings considering action steps and mobilizations, signing statements and protests, social media campaigns and communications strategies. I have spent much of my life in the thick of public life, and at CCPL, we believe in and promote civic engagement and political participation. We have a critique of Christian quietism just as we have a critique of Christian belligerence.

Every day, we are working to stare reality in the face, serve civic leaders, equip citizens, and build a healthier politics that benefits from positive Christian contribution.

Yet, I have also spent time this year in silent spaces, and what I have found is that out of silence can come great power. Noise is so often about the performance of activity, while silence can cultivate an integrity and clarity of purpose. It is in silence that we can discover that we have something worthwhile to say.

This month, CCPL held our first retreat with our 2025 Public Life Fellows. There was a lot of talking, laughing, strategizing, learning, encouraging and challenging over the course of those five powerful days. There was also silence and prayer and contemplation that provided necessary space for the learnings and reflection to take root. This month, we are also holding a series of silent retreats for members of our young professionals community. The people who take part in these retreats are not lacking urgency or purpose—indeed, they are some of the most effective, ambitious people I know.

We do not partake in silence in order to avoid or evade, but as an expression of our desire to go deeper, to gain perspective, to reject the noise, to listen and to hear from God. We take our silence with us.

There has been so much noise lately. It is by design. I believe that our response is deepened, not weakened, by silence. Umberto Eco, that titan of communication and resistor of fascism, closes the essay we have been discussing by arguing that “one of the ethical problems we face today is how to return to silence.”

Consider this my invitation to you. The actions we take in the days ahead will require the strength that comes from silence.

“What do you hear in the silence? Who are you there?”

A version of this brief essay was originally published in CCPL’s newsletter, which you can sign up for at www.ccpubliclife.org.