People don’t recognize them anymore. Bradley can see this in their minute facial reactions, the tic of “what’s that?” He alone can see it. He knows this because his eyes are protected, and theirs are not.
Some people outright dislike it. Peggy, for instance, has long silently rebuked his decision to wear them before turning the lights on in the morning and until he turns them out at night. He knows his eyes are worth it, though. Someday they’ll all be squinting fogeys, but he’ll be hawklike and keen; they’ll outlast everyone, Bradley and his Blue Blockers, two against the world.