Leo Beranek is one of the most outstanding acousticians of our time (an acoustician is one who gives professional advice to architects on the geometry and finishes of auditoriums, conference rooms, conference centres, lecture halls, and so on).

In 1962, he consulted to the design team on the geometry and finishes for the Philharmonic Hall, being part of the Lincoln Center for Performing Arts, in New York.

The advice he gave was much ignored or, in some cases, distorted to the taste of the interior designers. In many instances, his recommendations were rejected owing to a perceived high cost.

The result was an acoustic disaster, and Beranek’s reputation was damaged for years.But he was not, in fact, guilty – he was yet another victim of what acoustics professionals have come to recognise as the client/architect/quantity surveyor/interior designer syndrome.

I think that, barring architects (who have some idea ), in general, clients, quantity surveyors and interior designers have no idea about acoustics at all. Weighted decibels are not a thing they know about. RT60, %AlCons, STI-PA, STC and other acoustic parameters are not known to them. But the weird thing is that the whole bunch of them, even if they know sweet nothing about acoustics, act as if they do. In every project, they act as if they do.

Here is an example: an interior designer was asked to revamp the lounge of a golf club. She did this and decided, together with the quantity surveyor, that, to reduce costs, the ceiling (an acoustic tile ceiling) could be replaced with plasterboard. They decided that the weird oversize vases with funny dried flowers could be kept, however. When the lounge was full, conversation became impossible. It cost R250 000 to fix this, and the whole ceiling had to be replaced, with some inconvenience.

Another instance: in a university building, the acoustics engineer specified a certain type of folding door and windows for a room which had to be partitioned into two, if necessary. To save costs, the quantity surveyor decided that the door was too expensive, got a better price for a locally made door, changed the window glass and neatly rendered the room unusable – and it is like this to this day.

Yet another: a client was given (by the acoustics engineer) a specification for the underpurlin roof build-up for a large office complex. The roof build-up would greatly improve the acoustics and eliminate the rain noise on the roof. The client dispensed with the recommendation and is now in legal battle with the tenant, who cannot run his stockbroking operation when it rains.

Not all clients, architects, quantity surveyors or interior designers are like this. But a lot of them are. And I am writing this to appeal to them to think a bit: if you are constructing a building, then, at the end of the day, the structure can be soaring and beautiful, the finishes dazzling and wonderful, and it can be within budget, but, if you don’t get the acoustics right, then you may as well not have built the place. Get a good acoustics professional. (You can get the names of a number of good acoustics people from the Southern African Acoustics Institute website, http://saainst.xsi.co.za.)

Going back to the title of this column – what about the helicopter manual? Well, in my helicopter manual, nothing is given any undue emphasis. They don’t highlight certain items as being more important than others. So one paragraph reads: “A soft cloth may be used to clean mist off the interior of the cockpit canopy.” The other reads: ”Prolonged hovering out of ground effect may lead to vortex ring state, in which the aircraft settles in its own downwash, under full power. Increased collective application will aggravate the condition.”

What they mean is: "Don’t do that. Ever." And I dream of the day when clients, architects, quantity surveyors and interior designers realise that the recommendations from acoustics people are not just suggestions to be discarded. What they mean is: “Do this if you want the building to work." And 'No' means “don’t do that, ever".