THERE is disquiet here at the Mahogany Ridge that the South African Police Service is buying "sound cannons" to combat looming violent service-delivery protests in the run up to the 2016 local government elections.
The US-made Long-Range Acoustic Device sends out painful sounds over longer distances than normal public address systems. Although they've been used against Somali pirates and Iraqi insurgents, the first stirrings of controversy came when American citizens were targeted at the G20 Summit in Pittsburgh in September 2009.
Online footage of the incident suggest that the LRAD was perhaps not deployed to maximum effect that day. Protestors milled about, fingers in their ears, as what sounded like a car alarm blared incessantly. As reactions to police actions go, this was a far cry from the pandemonium usually associated with local crowd control.
This is not to suggest that the LRAD isn't dangerous. According to The Economist, it's designed for use in short bursts and will incapacitate anyone inside 300 metres with an "instant headache". Longer bursts may result in permanent ear damage. At 100 metres, it is "extremely painful".
Human rights activists say there is a risk of "collateral damage". The LRAD emits sound in a 30 degree beam - think of a sonic blunderbuss - and the probability that innocent bystanders could be seriously injured is very high. Still, police agencies insist it's non-lethal. More bizarrely, its manufacturers claim it's not a weapon at all but a "directed sound communications system".
If that is the case, then there may be concern at what is communicated. In other words, with what messages do you load it? Car alarm sounds are hardly ideal. They're so common and so firmly rooted in our audio-social consciousness that we routinely ignore them. Even the jokes - "They're playing our song, darling!", "Hark, the Observatory loerie!" - have disappeared.