About once a year, dear reader, I get to write a sentence that causes me to doubt the laws of the universe, nature, morality, science, and religion, yet I am compelled to write it anyway. Here it is:
Specifically, I agree with her views about a case which may not be troubling Gript readers very much, but should: The legal battle unfolding in Dublin between the Hoxton Hotel, a newly refurbished American-owned set of lodgings for those wanting comfort in the heart of Dublin’s cultural quarter (if such a thing exists), and Yamamori Izakaya, a sushi restaurant with a nightclub attached which is the hotel’s next door neighbour.
The owners of the Hotel, an American chain, have gone to court seeking an injunction which essentially tells the nightclub to turn down the volume, as the late-night unz-unz-unz style music means that 29 bedrooms in the hotel have become uninhabitable to those who want a good night’s sleep.
The Nightclub’s counter-argument, essentially, is well we were here first, and soundproofing your hotel is your job.
Instinctively, as a middle-class middle-aged man of a conservative disposition, I should be siding here with the hotel: I have arrived at that age where a good night’s sleep in clean sheets on a comfortable mattress sounds infinitely preferable to shouting into someone’s ear in a nightclub that “the music is very loud, isn’t it?” and having them shake their heads and mouth “I can’t hear you!” by way of reply. Loud music strikes me as inherently anti-social. Hotels strike me as inherently civilised. But that is the age and the social class and the privilege and so on talking.
If you share my prejudices – and the more open-minded of you will not, and be right not to – then imagine that the exact same problem arose except that instead of a night-club, the source of the noise was a classical music venue. Imagine that instead of the unz-unz-unz of “house music”, the offending noise was Beethoven’s rather violent fifth symphony. Would you still think a hotel should be able to open up next door and seek to compel the venue to reduce the noise?
The other thing here is that the hotel and the venue are not the only people whose rights must be balanced and adjudicated: People in Dublin who enjoy loud nightclubs have every right to attend such venues. Cities, by their very definition, are noisy places (which is one reason I live in the countryside). I would argue that when you book a hotel in the middle of a city – especially one in the middle of a city’s night-life district, you shouldn’t really have any expectation of a perfect and undisturbed night’s sleep. Don’t go there if you are sensitive to noise.
Anyway, to Una:
“It shouldn’t have had to come to this. An injunction is a costly measure for all parties, although, of course, some pockets are deeper than others. But it could be argued that the onus is on the new neighbour, not the existing one….
…The broader issue here is the pattern. All across the city, brilliant people working in promoting electronic music need more support and more spaces. One building’s allegedly noisy neighbour is another person’s great night out.”
She’s entirely correct: Every principle of natural justice dictates that the new neighbour is responsible for adapting to the neighbourhood, not the other way around. This applies to music venues, immigration, and house purchasing. If a new neighbour moved in next door and was annoyed by trees on my property obscuring his view, he would not have the natural or legal right to demand that I chop them down. By contrast, if somebody opened a mosque next door and started issuing the call to prayer four times daily, I could object under planning laws as they, not I, would be changing the character of the area.
Mullally is also right in her final point: You won’t have a vibrant capital city if hotels for tourists are prioritised over social venues. The past 20 years have seen an enormous contraction in the number of hotels, nightclubs, and pubs in Ireland, and a concomitant rise in things like online dating and self-reported loneliness. You won’t have a city, or a society, if you prioritise the wrong things.
Ultimately, soundproofing the hotel is a matter for the hotel: The nightclub has all the planning permissions it needs, and has a licence to operate. It has not done anything wrong. Its business operations should not be impacted by the decision of another party to operate a separate business next door. If the Hotel succeeds in its endeavour, it will set a bad precedent – not only for Dublin’s night-life, but for planning and development law in Ireland in general. So on this occasion, I’ll stand beside Una in the trenches. Viva la revolution.