We would have gone for a quiet coffee, only it no longer exists. So we decided on an ear-splitting one instead. Our venue of choice was Carluccio's, a wooden-floored, concrete-walled, air-conditioned upmarket chain of café-restaurants, that my host, Julian Treasure, an “acoustician” who claims that he's at the forefront of the backlash against noise, had singled out as “a reverberant mess...and honestly unbearable at lunchtimes”.

Treasure is a Cambridge-educated economics graduate and part-time drummer who glimpsed the potential goldmine that is “auditory branding”. He's the kind of person who will endear himself to the people at the Noise Abatement Society by saying things like, “my personal bête noire is the food or drink chiller” or “when I grew up in the 1960s, British police cars had just moved from bells to a two-tone siren (always a minor third - I wonder why?)” but then make them worry about the future when he talks enthusiastically about research that proves supermarket customers spend on average 30 per cent more if expertly-chosen music is played in the aisles.

He believes that “we've only scratched the surface of the sonic logo,” and there's a chapter in his book Sound Business (what else?) in which he details new developments in sound technology that meant, for instance, that a beam of hypersonic sound was successfully used to ward off an attack by pirates off the Somali coast in November 2005. And yet, “I do not ever advocate using sound to manipulate people,” he says. “For many years, advertisers have been selling us time (microwaves, instant meals). Now we are on the brink of a major aural revolution. Business will come to learn that “peace is the new time”. Because his clients are big companies, including Marks & Spencer, BAA, Honda, Nokia and The Body Shop, one must assume that Treasure knows of what he speaks.

Where he parts company with traditional anti-noise campaigners is on silence. Have I ever been inside an anechoic chamber? “It's really quite intimidating, you can hear the workings of your entire body, your digestive tract, everything.” Society needs noise to function and feel comfortable, he argues, but what society is getting is the wrong kind of noise and at the wrong kind of volume, rising in urban areas by one decibel a year. Statistics that he's dug up, and that are backed up by the anti-noise lobbies, suggest that city life in 2008 is twice as loud as it was 20 years ago. Who's to blame? “Aside from noisy neighbours, the top noise nuisances - planes, trains, road traffic, construction and heavy industry - are predominantly generated by organisations, not by individuals. It seems clear that organisations are responsible for most of the noise invading our homes.”

And the way Treasure and others like him intend to turn this revelation into a money-spinner is to persuade businesses that they are losing millions of pounds by ignoring their auditory profiles and responsibilities. Last year, for example, Treasure designed a generative soundscape for BAA - the sound of pop music was replaced by the sound of birdsong and crashing waves that was alternated daily over a period of two months with silence. When the soundtrack was playing, profits in the terminal's shops rose by up to 10 per cent.

“There is a worldwide state of denial regarding auditory pollution,” he told me, rather loudly, over the clank and woosh of two espresso machines, the buzz of an overhead air-conditioning unit, the clattering of knives and forks and what may or may not have been the sound of Snow Patrol drowned out by the sound of a group of eight businessmen throwing numbers around over a power-breakfast: “We all put up with it. But the effects of noise almost always happen at a subconscious level.

“We've gone from a fairly quiet world to a hugely noisy world. If there is a pile of rubbish in the corner of the restaurant, if you could see it or smell it, nobody would put up with it. But with noise, people feel they are being antsy if they complain.” Treasure thinks that, as awareness and noise levels increase and the population ages, this will change. Urban areas, particularly, health researchers have found, are suffering from noise-induced cortisol and adrenal overdosing problems.

“We're in a very ocular culture, we pretend that noise isn't there. Music is being devalued because we've got it mindlessly smeared all over the world as a veneer. You have architects with seven years training, six weeks of which is dedicated to sound-proofing, and most of that is based on making sure you can't hear your neighbours having sex. They're in love with steel, wood, concrete, glass - anything hard.”

He paused, just as a barista on the other side of the room came to violent blows with a coffee-filter. “Can you imagine what this place is like at lunchtime? I mean, the food is great but it's typical that places like this are designed by people with no ears at all.” There's a killjoy element to Treasure that would like to consign espresso machines and smoothie-makers to the kitchen. Aren't they sort of atmospheric? “I think this is a really, really unpleasant soundscape. Most restaurants mistake noise for buzz. They think the two are the same. It's ghastly.” I think Treasure likes to see himself as a pioneering maverick at the frontier of an aural revolution, but there are others who have become similarly fascinated by the psychological impact of noise on human behaviour. The piped-music kings, Muzak, have repositioned themselves as brand consultants and have joined forces with a company called ScentAir, that does things like lace the children's clothing department of Bloomingdales with the smell of baby powder.

In academia, a whole industry has sprung up around the effects of noise. If you want to find out What You Should Know About Leaf Blowers, for example, or The Truth in Aviation, the leading expert in the field, Alice Suter, has written whole bibles on the subject. Adrian North, a psychologist at Herriot-Watt University and a brand consultant, whose book The Social and Applied Psychology of Music is published this week, told me his studies proved that playing traditional French music in supermarkets increases spending on French wine. Obvious, one would have thought, except somehow to businesses: “Allowing staff to choose what they play - that's a particularly strange policy. Can you imagine allowing staff to paint the walls or charge whatever they want? As far as what they play, I'd say the great majority are getting it wrong. Half have no effect, but I'd say 30 per cent get it overtly wrong. That's to say the customer leaves with subconsciously negative associations.” Businesses are listening. One of the great ironies of the explosion in the use of iPods is that, women especially, like them because they block out other noise and create a serene space.

In the non-corporate world, noise creeps steadily up the agenda. Amendments to EU legislation relating to noise in the workplace have come into effect over the past two years. Defra is dragging its feet over its ambient noise strategy but thinks it will be in a position to publish its noise maps of England within weeks.

A selection of random contributory facts: A typical house today is just over half the size of one built before 1920 but sound insulation standards have failed to take account of this. And the things in them - the televisions, the radios, the no-longer optional laminated floorboards are getting louder. Defra concludes that individual sources of noise (i.e, cars, aircraft) are becoming quieter but that there are more of them.

A report by the World Health Organisation published last August, which decreed that 3,000 people in Britain die from noise-related stress, is still angrily pored over in noise-related chat-rooms. Angriest of all is Peter Wakeham of the Noise Abatement Society, who fears it has reached the point where “you can buy a stereo that can vibrate your neighbour's china”. Wakeham detests laminated floors: “If you live under one it feels like a cannon has gone off.” He lists iPods, car stereos, wind chimes, announcements and gadgetry on public transport, train horns and teenagers as the chief annoyances: “The announcement is telling you that bus 54 is arriving. They tell us it's to help the disabled. If there's anybody there, they can ask people. People are kind. ‘Doors closing', ‘Second Floor', it's torture.”

And then there is Gary Glitter on the radio. “They were playing him in a restaurant and I asked the manager why he is playing music from a convicted paedophile at full blast, and he snubbed me. Noise is a forgotten pollutant and it is a pollutant that causes devastation. But it takes a lower priority than when a sewer bursts.”

Would the people of the NAS be any happier with the sound of breaking waves as a backdrop to their lives? Treasure thinks so, “I have installed enough birdsong to know from experience that people find it restful”.

But the future of sound gets more complicated. It is Treasure's view that “warning beeps are one of the evils of modern society”. In the future, he predicts, they will be replaced by a voice saying “excuse me”, a melodic or soft-toned horn noise, or even a recording of someone clearing their throat.

The hypersonic beams that were so successful in Somalia could be used to construct individual sound-pools in cars and in houses “making possible ‘his' and ‘hers' listening while sitting side by side. One person watches TV and the other listens to music”. Supermarkets will be peaceful places, armed with “a new generation of trolleys with plastic bodies and rubber wheels on silent bearings”. Work will be a place where managers finally get it through their heads that the productivity of workers is decreased by two-thirds when they work in open-plan offices. Elevators? Treasure seems unreasonably enamoured by the lifts in Chelsea and Westminster hospital, where “the automated female voice, though delivered through a poor quality system, is very positive, bursting with pleasure in announcing ‘this lift is going up'.” Can't she just say nothing? That might not please the blind lobby who have already argued in America against the introduction of quieter hybrid buses on safety grounds.

Treasure proposed a tour of the high street. We walked into HMV: “They're using PA speakers you get for gigs. They're not particularly high quality and you get a lot of middle.” Café Nero: “Listen to the racket that chilled drink dispenser is making!” Swarovski: “They've got the doors open for no reason. You can hear the noise of every passing bus.” Of the unidentifiable R&B track blurting forth, Treasure said: “This is one of the most inappropriate sound systems on earth!”

We walked into Boots. An electronic voice announced to a queue of one that cashier number three was now free. We speculated that sooner of later some poor sod of a shop assistant would sue for tinnitus, or possibly be driven to assasinating fellow staff-members, then get off on a legitimate plea of insanity. This, we decided was most likely to happen to employees of Topshop, Urban Outfitters, Miss Selfridge and Gap. If Julian Treasure had been in charge, we would have been listening to generative soundscapes that react to the number of shoppers inside: a faster tempo when the place is empty, slow and calming when it is full. And not necessarily music. Why not the sound of raindrops or the ocean?

The absolute high point of our tour came when we walked into a mobile phone shop and a bored shop assistant tuned into Kiss FM on a display issue stereo. “You just saw something absolutely classic here!” whispered Treasure. “The guy is changing the music! It's jungle. Do you think that accurately reflects their brand? I mean, what kind of message is that giving out.”

At lunchtime, I went back to Carluccio's, which was packed. It's conceivable that some people like not being able to hear what others are saying. It's conceivable that others feel less self-conscious or alone. When I called the general manager, he told me that, although some noise-absorbent material had been installed in a couple of branches, there were no similar plans for the branch in which we had breakfasted. Management did not consider noise levels there to be “beyond buzzy. I think most people like atmosphere in a place”.

So the question is, how can a man like Julian Treasure persuade a place like Carluccio's to quieten down? “I can't guarantee that turning down the volume would bring in more people but it would make it a more pleasant experience.” Pleasant is good, I think we can agree. But if pleasant is birdsong that makes human beings want to spend inordinate sums of money, perhaps in the future I will be staying at home.

THE WORST OFFENDERS

Obnoxiously noisy restaurants

Moro

The Wolseley

Strada

Shops

H&M

Gap

Topshop

Abercrombie & Fitch

For tannoy hell

Asda

First Great Western Trains at stations, either deafening or impossible to hear: “First Great Western apologises for the late arrival of this train and any disruption this MAY have caused to your day.” May?

For flat-screen hell

Heathrow Express

Tesco Express

Most pubs

For announcement overkill

Ryanair

The first 40 minutes of any Eurostar journey

Miscellaneous

Anywhere near a Routemaster bus

Loch Fyne Oyster Bar on the West Coast of Scotland

Brookesbus

Where the peace pleases

Inside the bar, restaurant or tea rooms of many traditional hotels

The Bodleian Library, Oxford

Gaia house retreat, Devon

Trader Vic's

The London Tube

Northumberland

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