To anyone who has weathered squawking public-address announcements about gate changes or final boarding calls or picking up the nearest courtesy phone, to anyone who has cringed beneath a loudspeaker blaring Muzak or the narration of a CNN special on obesity in American pets, or to anyone who has been startled by a beeping cart bearing the disabled across a terminal, it will come as no surprise that the most welcoming feature of the airport lounge is the muted lighting and dampened sound that greet one in its reception vestibule. For beyond the free chips and fresh fruit, the complimentary soft drinks and house wines, and the selection of trade magazines offered for the guest’s reading enjoyment, travelers primarily purchase respite from the bustle of the terminal.

The layout of such lounges segregates silent work areas from carpeted bars and soundproofed playrooms for children. Even in their most convivial areas, where television screens display market news and sporting matches, a hushed decorum is maintained, with outbursts a rarity. Offered by airlines to first-class ticket holders and frequent fliers who have purchased annual club memberships, airport lounges make clear both in their promotional literature and their discreet entrances that segregation of noise from silence is an expression of segregation by class.

American Airlines, for instance, explicitly markets its “Admirals Club” as an expression of rank: “Treat an Admirals Club lounge as an oasis of peace—away from all of the airport hustle. Because we know a little space to yourself can add up to a feeling, well, really big.” The United Airlines Club promises that, for its $500 annual fee, you will be able to “Relax in a sophisticated environment when you wait for your flight.” Not surprisingly, many clubs have dress codes.

The association of silence with wealth is not a recent marketing strategy, of course, but the marriage of tranquility and privilege is, in fact, the very purpose of airline lounges.

This reverence that silence pays affluence is even more obvious once the traveler ascends to the heavens, for noise can be subdued not merely in the airport but on the airplane itself. First introduced in 1986 for the protection of the hearing of pilots, Bose noise-canceling headphones have been used on NASA’s space shuttle and on the International Space Station. Now available in consumer models starting at $300, these battery-powered headphones mute the roar of the massive jet engines just a few feet away. Having inherited a pair of these headphones from a deceased relative, I can attest personally to the extraordinary effect of this technology: One does arrive less exhausted from a cross-country flight when that journey occurs in near silence.

Of course, the Bose Corporation is well aware of how attractive silence will seem to fellow travelers during such a grueling flight. So each headphone case is equipped with a small sleeve stuffed with “Courtesy Cards” in French and in English to distribute to anyone asking how to get a pair.