theory went, “you want the same brain chemistry.”
For a long time afterward, I looked back on that kind of theorizing as pure rationalization, the undergraduate mind at its self-justifying finest. We had so many crackpot theories then, about dating and getting rich and studying, that I’d discarded the whole list. Still, millions of students have developed some version of the brain chemistry idea, and I think its enduring attraction is rooted in something deeper than wishful thinking. The theory fits in nicely with what we’ve been told about good study habits from Day 1—be consistent.
Consistency has been a hallmark of education manuals since the1900s, and the principle is built into our every assumption about good study habits. Develop a ritual, a daily schedule, a single place and time set aside for study and nothing else. Find a private corner of the house or the library, and a quiet niche of the day, early or late. These ideas go back at least to the Puritans and their ideal of study as devotion, but they have not changed a whit. “Choose an area that is quiet and free from distractions,” begins a studyguide from Baylor University, though it could be from any institution. It continues:
“Develop a study ritual to use each time you study.”
“Use earplugs or a headset to block out noise.”
“Say no to those who want to alter your study time.”
Et cetera. It is all about consistency.
And so is the “Study Aid” brain chemistry theory, if you think about it. Using the same “vitamin”—or, okay, mind-altering substance—to prepare and, later, to perform may not be particularly Puritan. But it’s nothing if not consistent.
It is also, within reason, correct.
Studying while seriously impaired is wasted time, in more ways than one, as millions of students have learned the hard way. Yet, generally speaking, we perform better on tests when in the same state of mind as when we studied—and, yes, that includes mild states of intoxication from alcohol or pot, as well as arousal from stimulants. Moods, preoccupations, and perceptions matter, too: how we feel while studying, where we are, what we see and hear. The scientific investigation into these influences—the inner mental context, so to speak, as well as the outer one—has revealed subtle dimensions of learning that we rarely, if ever, notice but can exploit to optimize our time. Along the way, paradoxically, this research has also demolished the consistency doctrine.
• • •
The story begins twenty feet underwater, just off the coast of Oban, Scotland.
Oban, on the Sound of Mull and facing the islands known as the Southern Hebrides, is apremier diving destination. It’s within easy range of the Rondo , an American steamer that sank here in 1934 and sits—jackknifed, nose-down—in 150 feet of water, a magnet for explorers in scuba gear. A half dozen other shipwrecks are also close—the Irish Thesis , lost in 1889; the Swedish Hispania , which went down in 1954—and the waters course with dogfish, octopus, cuttlefish, and the psychedelic sea slugs called nudibranchs.
It was here, in 1975, that a pair of psychologists from nearby Stirling University recruited a group of divers to participate inan unusual learning experiment.
The psychologists, D. R. Godden and A. D. Baddeley, wanted to test a hypothesis that many learning theorists favored: that people remember more of what they studied when they return to that same study environment. This is a variation on the detective novel line, “Now, Mrs. Higgins, let’s return to the night of the murder. Tell me exactly what you saw and heard.” Like the detective, psychologists hypothesized that features of the study location—the lighting, the wallpaper, the background music—provide the brain “cues” to shake free more information. The difference is that Mrs. Higgins is trying to revisit a dramatic scene, an autobiographical memory, and the researchers were applying the same
For a long time afterward, I looked back on that kind of theorizing as pure rationalization, the undergraduate mind at its self-justifying finest. We had so many crackpot theories then, about dating and getting rich and studying, that I’d discarded the whole list. Still, millions of students have developed some version of the brain chemistry idea, and I think its enduring attraction is rooted in something deeper than wishful thinking. The theory fits in nicely with what we’ve been told about good study habits from Day 1—be consistent.
Consistency has been a hallmark of education manuals since the1900s, and the principle is built into our every assumption about good study habits. Develop a ritual, a daily schedule, a single place and time set aside for study and nothing else. Find a private corner of the house or the library, and a quiet niche of the day, early or late. These ideas go back at least to the Puritans and their ideal of study as devotion, but they have not changed a whit. “Choose an area that is quiet and free from distractions,” begins a studyguide from Baylor University, though it could be from any institution. It continues:
“Develop a study ritual to use each time you study.”
“Use earplugs or a headset to block out noise.”
“Say no to those who want to alter your study time.”
Et cetera. It is all about consistency.
And so is the “Study Aid” brain chemistry theory, if you think about it. Using the same “vitamin”—or, okay, mind-altering substance—to prepare and, later, to perform may not be particularly Puritan. But it’s nothing if not consistent.
It is also, within reason, correct.
Studying while seriously impaired is wasted time, in more ways than one, as millions of students have learned the hard way. Yet, generally speaking, we perform better on tests when in the same state of mind as when we studied—and, yes, that includes mild states of intoxication from alcohol or pot, as well as arousal from stimulants. Moods, preoccupations, and perceptions matter, too: how we feel while studying, where we are, what we see and hear. The scientific investigation into these influences—the inner mental context, so to speak, as well as the outer one—has revealed subtle dimensions of learning that we rarely, if ever, notice but can exploit to optimize our time. Along the way, paradoxically, this research has also demolished the consistency doctrine.
• • •
The story begins twenty feet underwater, just off the coast of Oban, Scotland.
Oban, on the Sound of Mull and facing the islands known as the Southern Hebrides, is apremier diving destination. It’s within easy range of the Rondo , an American steamer that sank here in 1934 and sits—jackknifed, nose-down—in 150 feet of water, a magnet for explorers in scuba gear. A half dozen other shipwrecks are also close—the Irish Thesis , lost in 1889; the Swedish Hispania , which went down in 1954—and the waters course with dogfish, octopus, cuttlefish, and the psychedelic sea slugs called nudibranchs.
It was here, in 1975, that a pair of psychologists from nearby Stirling University recruited a group of divers to participate inan unusual learning experiment.
The psychologists, D. R. Godden and A. D. Baddeley, wanted to test a hypothesis that many learning theorists favored: that people remember more of what they studied when they return to that same study environment. This is a variation on the detective novel line, “Now, Mrs. Higgins, let’s return to the night of the murder. Tell me exactly what you saw and heard.” Like the detective, psychologists hypothesized that features of the study location—the lighting, the wallpaper, the background music—provide the brain “cues” to shake free more information. The difference is that Mrs. Higgins is trying to revisit a dramatic scene, an autobiographical memory, and the researchers were applying the same
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