Ciúnas: the silent poets in the Hugh Lane Gallery in Dublin yesterday

Tired of the noise, the ceaseless analysis, the looming questions which are flogged to death? Are you sick of all these talking heads asking how did we get here and where are we going? Have you had enough? Come hither and let's beat a new path through the thicket.

Yesterday, in the Hugh Lane Gallery in Dublin, 12 poets, good and true, made a stand. They stayed schtum for the day. They sat there and said nothing, luxuriating in the silence. OK, they broke for lunch at 1pm – everybody's got to open their mouths sometime. But for the most part, they took it handy, just sitting there, observing the silence. Pure gold.

This "intervention", as it is classified, is the brainchild of artist Chris Doris. He's a great man for saying nothing. Other interventions he has hosted include 40 days and 40 nights in Croagh Patrick, and a "30-day investigative experiment in the medium of silence". A few years ago he had a cut at silence in the Dáil in an intervention entitled Whatshappening? (Not much in there, brother). That little experiment was scheduled for only an hour because if it persisted any longer the silent one might be suspected of engaging in terrorism.

The man is onto something. We live in a time of relentless noise and chatter from when we rise all the way until the sun goes down on our day. It's high time something was done about it.

Yesterday's intervention was presented in a contextual framework. "The participants observe 'self' as process, conditioned responsiveness and emergent stillness. "Awareness moves to phenomena arising in the local and non-local relational fields and switches to and from self-process…

"The work is neither performance nor spectacle of endurance – it is an invitation to a subtle and formative mode of observation and communication. Public participation is invited at the venue and non-locally, by remote attention."

Are you still with us? OK, in the name of silence, this column respectfully instructs you, the reader, to at this point eliminate all sound from your reading. Turn off the radio and TV. Lock noisy children in the nearest cupboard. Shoot the pets. Take whatever drastic action that may be necessary to obtain the medium of silence.

Prepare to observe self. As process. Locally or non-locally.

If silence is to succeed, it will be necessary for a few choice heads to put a sock in it.

First up to add value to the sound of silence must be economists working for financial institutions. When the bubble was blowing they demanded silence from anybody who questioned their ludicrous assessments. Now they are telling us we're already in recovery mode. Fooled us once, and now they're intent on fooling us again.

Ideally, the next intervention should be Ten Economists, reposing in silence in a public space. This would give them the opportunity to observe 'self'. They could be brought bread and water daily and allowed one hour of natter among themselves each week. The exercise would undoubtedly produce conditioned responsiveness and we would all be grateful for the emergent stillness on the airwaves.

Silencing others would also enhance this new mode of subtle and formative observation. Brian Cowen would most likely leap at the opportunity of a little peace and quiet. He could react to all accusations and hostile queries with a shrug of his shoulders, and draw an index finger across his lips, invoking his vow of silence, undertaken for the greater good.

Enda Kenny couldn't go wrong if he kept his mouth shut. It would in all likelihood greatly enhance his popularity. He has a winning smile and a fine head of hair. Voters couldn't ask for much more.

Eamon Gilmore might not be as enthused by the sound of silence. How can you properly convey that you are all things to all men and women, to all creatures great and small, if you can't keep banging on about it?

Think of the soaring numbers that would tune into Oireachtas Report if the sound of silence was transmitted. Viewers would be presented with the opportunity to commune with their elected representatives through a new medium. All the hot air that usually emanates from the chamber would be cushioned by levitating rational fields, if you get my drift.

The sight of Jackie Healy-Rae comporting himself through transcendental meditation on behalf of the plain people of Ireland would certainly do wonders for the Iseq. And what benefits might accrue if the likes of Pat Rabbitte and Dermot Ahern could hurl barbs in wordless dialogue across the floor of the house? Peace would reign, constructive criticism transmitted through raised eyebrows and knowing nods. Ireland would not know itself.

Protests could be conducted in a non-local mode, requiring protestors to stay at home and protest in silence. There would also appear to be scope for a new radio station to accommodate the new departure. This columnist would make himself available for the strenuous task of hosting a show. I have the perfect voice for silence.

Staying quiet will not suit everybody, but the greater good will reap the benefits. The new regime shall dawn at a date in the near future. Simon and Garfunkel will introduce the sound of silence. "Hello darkness, my old friend, I've come to talk with you again…" And after that, all sound shall dissipate into the ether.

This is the way forward. No more noise. No more talking heads. No more talking rubbish. Silence is golden. Shhh.