A new study published in Evolutionary Psychological Science has discovered that everyday sounds—such as coughing and sniffling—could significantly undermine one’s ability to learn, even when these noises are not perceived as especially distracting. This research highlights how the human brain is evolutionarily wired to detect potential signs of illness, potentially drawing attention away from important academic or professional tasks. Conducted among undergraduates in the United States, the findings are being discussed worldwide and may have profound implications for classrooms, offices, and other shared environments in Thailand, especially as the nation grapples with evolving public health awareness and the demands for effective learning environments (psypost.org).
The significance of this research for Thai readers goes beyond mere curiosity about sound and attention. Thais are no strangers to bustling classrooms and offices where ambient noise is inevitable. Culturally, classrooms across Thailand range from quiet, air-conditioned urban schools to rural settings where open-air designs let in the sounds of daily life. Yet, few realize the particular impact that bodily sounds, especially those associated with illness, may have on memory and learning. With Thailand’s strong emphasis on education, both academically and in national policy, these findings touch the heart of a debate about designing healthier, more effective learning spaces.
In the experiment, researchers recruited 89 university students—all new to statistics—who watched a brief instructional video on z-scores and frequency distributions. The students were divided into three groups: one experienced silence, another heard neutral sounds like jingling keys and zipping bags, while the final group was exposed to periodic coughs and sniffles—real recordings of a researcher with influenza B, played every 15 seconds at an average volume of 70 decibels. After the lecture, they completed a distractor task and then took a 20-question quiz covering factual recall and applied problems. Participants wore headphones and worked alone in quiet rooms to minimize outside interference.
The results were striking: Those who listened to coughing and sniffling answered, on average, only 10 of 20 questions correctly, a significant 17% drop compared to the silent group, who averaged nearly 14 correct responses. Those who heard neutral sounds scored about 12 right answers, a result not statistically different from the silent group, indicating that general background noise was not the culprit. The impairment was tied specifically to the sounds that signal illness, not to noise per se.
Expert perspectives help illuminate these findings further. The study’s lead author, an assistant professor of psychology at the State University of New York Oneonta, explained, “Participants did not perceive the pathogen-prevalent sounds as being louder or more distracting than the neutral sounds. This means that the participants were probably not consciously aware of the distracting effects that these sounds produced.” The same author added, “People pay greater attention to pathogen-prevalent details—probably as a means of keeping us safe and healthy—so this enhanced attention may come at the cost of decreased attention toward other things, resulting in lower quiz scores.”
The research draws on cognitive load theory—a well-established idea in psychology that states humans have limited mental resources. The brain is constantly balancing the demands of learning complex information and monitoring the environment for threats. Sounds that hint at disease inadvertently hijack our attention, pulling cognitive resources away from the task and resulting in poorer retention of new information. This effect is thought to be rooted in the behavioral immune system, an evolved set of psychological reactions that help detect and avoid potential sources of infection. While helpful in evolutionary history, these adaptations can have unintended consequences in today’s schools and workplaces.
For Thailand, the relevance is immediate. Both schools and offices are often shared by many people, especially during flu seasons or times of heightened concern, such as following the Covid-19 pandemic. In Thai classrooms, it is common for students to cough or sniffle when battling the seasonal flu or common cold. Unlike in some cultures where illness is met with strong avoidance, in Thai society there is both tolerance and community care, but also, at times, a lack of awareness about how ambient disease-related sounds might disrupt collective learning. The study suggests teachers and administrators should consider not just the noise level, but the quality and meaning of sounds in the learning environment.
The research suggests practical changes: Instructors might need to be more aware of the presence and impact of coughing or similar sounds in examination halls. Schools could encourage sick students to recover at home or create policies that minimize the presence of illness-related noises in classrooms. Additionally, the study offers insight to Thai family homes, where multi-generational living is the cultural norm; students studying at home may need quieter, illness-free spaces for optimal focus. This is especially relevant given Thailand’s recent trends towards hybrid and online learning models.
From a historical and cultural standpoint, sound in Thai learning has always been multifaceted. Traditional Buddhist temples, which double as informal learning centers for many rural Thai children, are filled with sounds of nature and community life, illustrating a generally high tolerance for environmental noise. However, the new research asks us to rethink which sounds are benign and which may hinder learning, especially in a modern context where academic achievement is highly prized.
While the data comes from a controlled lab environment, the lead researcher notes that effects could be even stronger in real classrooms, where students are more likely to notice others coughing or sneezing, potentially amplifying distraction or anxiety. It also raises further questions about other cues, such as visuals, which the research team plans to study next. This adds a new dimension to ongoing discussions in Thailand about classroom design, mental health, and the importance of fostering environments that maximize student potential.
Looking forward, there is a call for more research that directly studies Thai classrooms, where dynamics can differ from Western institutions. However, the existing evidence makes a strong case for educators to be vigilant about both the frequency and nature of background sounds. In the context of a competitive national exam system, every marginal gain in attention and retention can have long-term impacts on student outcomes and equity.
In conclusion, Thai students and families should consider both the level and the type of background noise during study and exam periods. Simple changes—such as avoiding shared study spaces when sick, using noise-cancelling headphones, or ensuring classrooms are well-ventilated and illness is minimized—can make a measurable difference in learning outcomes. Teachers and school policymakers are encouraged to reflect on not just physical health policies, but also on the subtler aspects of sound management, ensuring environments are conducive to focus and cognitive performance. As Thailand continues to emphasize education as a foundation for national progress, these insights offer both a challenge and an opportunity for the system—and for every learner striving to reach their full potential.
For more on this research, see the original article at PsyPost.