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(How) Do Emotions Affect Learning?
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

When a conference speaker announces that “a student’s emotions matter for their learning,” few teachers rock back in surprise. OF COURSE emotions matter for learning. Who would have thought otherwise?

At the same time, we’re probably curious to know how emotions influence learning.

A young student with long dark hair stands pensively by a school hallway window, clutching a green notebook and wearing a blue scarf over her white uniform shirt. Her expression appears troubled or thoughtful as she gazes outside. In the background, other uniformed students interact in the corridor. The image captures a moment of isolation or contemplation within the busy school environment, suggesting themes of teenage emotional challenges in educational settings.

In fact, once we ask that question, some sense of surprise might start to creep in. After all, the word “learning” falls squarely in the realm of cognition. And the word “emotion” sounds much more like … well … emotion.

 

Aren’t cognition and emotion two different sets of mental processes? If they are, how does one affect the other?

Here’s where research can be really helpful, if we read it carefully.

One of the best known (and most misunderstood) insights in this field comes from LatB regular Mary Helen Immordino-Yang:

“It is literally neurobiologically impossible to think deeply about things that you don’t care about.”

Why? Because — in the words of a recent study led by Benjamin Hawthorne — “the brain mechanisms that give rise to conscious emotions are not fundamentally different from those that give rise to cognition.”

In other word: the parts of your brain that do the emotional work also do the thinking work. Yes, LOTS of the same neural networks operate in both processes. These two seemingly “different sets of mental processes” share very substantial plots of neural real estate. (I will, by the way, come back to the misunderstanding of Dr. Immordino-Yang’s quotation at the end of this post.)

So, STEP ONE in this multi-step argument: “students’ emotions influence their learning because — at the neurobiological level  — ’emotion’ and ‘cognition’ overlap.

Step Two

With this neuroscience understanding of the cognition/emotion relationship established, let’s turn to psychology. What mental processes might explain this relationship?

One potential answer: WORKING MEMORY (often abbreviated as WM)If emotions — positive or negative — have an effect on WM, then we can easily understand how those emotions affect learning.

This hypothesis is at the heart of that recent study, led by Dr. Hawthorne, that I quoted a few paragraphs ago.

Hawthorne’s team explored this question through the concept of “cognitive load theory.” The full theory is too complicated to review here, but the headlines are straightforward:

  • Students who can manage a WM task are facing an appropriate cognitive load.
  • When that cognitive load becomes excessive, then they experience WM overload.

Team Hawthorne hypothesized that:

  • negative emotions (or what the researchers call ‘painful’ emotions) might increase cognitive load, and thus result in WM overload. Result: less learning.
  • positive emotions might reduce cognitive load, and thus make WM overload less likely. Result: same (or more) learning.

Because they have this cognitive load theory framework (often abbreviated as CLT), they can rely on all the tools and surveys that CLT uses.

What Students Did; What Reseachers Learned

To pursue this line of inquiry, Hawthorne and his team followed a straightforward plan.

Roughly 350 students — 11 to 15 year olds in Australian schools — went through this process during their math class. In brief, they…

… watched videos teaching increasingly complicated algebra processes (that is: their cognitive load increased over time),

… rated their own experience of cognitive load for each problem,

… rated their positive and negative emotions, and

… took a final test, to see how well they learned the algebra processes.

When Team Hawthorne put all these data into the appropriate graphs and charts, they arrived at an interesting pair of results.

First:

Yes, negative emotions add to the students’ perceived cognitive load. Result: less learning.

Second:

But: positive emotions had no effect on their perceived cognitive load — although  happier students did learn more.

And so, third:

Hawthorne’s team speculates that positive emotions might help cognition via another mental process … such as motivation.

What’s a Teacher to Do?

Given these results, we might reasonably ask: “so what? What can we do with these findings?”

Good questions. I have tentative answers.

First: we now have good reasons from two distinct scientific disciplines — neuroscience and psychology — to argue that emotion and cognition aren’t different categories: they overlap a lot.

Second: we know that students experiencing more negative emotion ALSO experience more cognitive load. Potential result: less learning.

Third: because of ambiguity in the study’s language, we can’t say if the negative emotions led to the higher cognitive load, or if the higher load led to negative emotions. (Because the study measured students’ emotions only once, we can’t know if the answer is “both.”)

For that reason, I think we need a rough-n-ready, flexible set of classroom responses.

  • If I see my students are upset, I can predict their WM might be reduced; I’ll need to simplify instruction for a while.
  • If I see my students’ just can’t get their WM in gear right now, I might wonder if there’s some emotional complexity underlying the problem. So: I should check out that hunch.

Neither of these suggestions is revolutionary, but they do let me think through the two-way relationship between negative emotion and WM.

A Two-Way Street

A few hundred words ago, I wrote that Dr. Immordino-Yang’s well-know quotation is widely misunderstood. When she says:

“It is literally neurobiologically impossible to think deeply about things that you don’t care about.”

Many people hear:

“And therefore we have to start by getting students to CARE about things, because otherwise they won’t learn about them.

In other words: students’ EMOTIONS preceed their COGNITION.”

But that conclusion a) violates the research we’ve been looking at, and b) doesn’t follow logically from the original statement. Let’s try another example:

“It is literally biomechanically impossible to walk (normally) without using your ankle joints.”

We should not, I think, extend this statement to say:

“We have to start by getting walkers to focus on their ANKLES, because otherwise they can’t walk.”

The sentence really means: “ankles are an essential sub-component of the walking process. They are one of many body parts that we should be aware of as we’re teaching walkers.”

So too, I think, Dr. Immordino-Yang’s statement means: “emotion and cognition always work together. Rather than prioritize one over the other, we should be aware of their intricate interactions as we make moment-by-moment teaching decisions.”

In other words:

Yes, of course, my emotional state influences my ability to think effectively. If I’m stressed and unhappy, I might well struggle to figure out whatever academic problem faces me.

AND

Yes, of course, my ability to think effectively influences my emotional state. If I accomplish a difficult thinking task — like, say, learning a complex algebra process — I might well feel less bad and more good.

The title of this blog post asks: “how do emotions affect learning.”

I hope I’ve persuaded you that the answer is: “don’t rely on people who offer a simple answer to that question. Emotion and cognition overlap substantially, and we must keep that overlap in mind as we think our way through leading schools and classrooms.”

And also: “at a minimum, we have good reason to think that negative/painful emotions complicate working memory. No wonder they’re bad for learning!”


Hawthorne, B. S., Slemp, G. R., Vella-Brodrick, D. A., & Hattie, J. (2025). The relationship between positive and painful emotions and cognitive load during an algebra learning task. Learning and Individual Differences117, 102597.

Attention Must Be Paid
Guest Blogger
Guest Blogger

This guest review of Blake Harvard’s Do I Have Your Attention is written by Justin Cerenzia.


Having followed Blake Harvard’s “The Effortful Educator” blog from its very beginning, it feels especially fitting that his new book – Do I Have Your Attention? Understanding Memory Constraints and Maximizing Learning – poses a question many of us have enthusiastically answered “yes” to for nearly a decade.

Yet this book represents more than an extension of Harvard’s blog—it marks the culmination of his long-standing influence as a leading educator: one who connects cognitive science with classroom practice. Thoughtfully structured into two complementary sections, the book skillfully integrates theoretical perspectives on how memory functions with actionable classroom strategies, offering educators practical tools to foster meaningful and lasting learning.

Book Cover of "Do I Have Your Attention" by Blake Harvard

Harvard deftly navigates the complexities often inherent in cognitive science research. His writing style is both approachable and authoritative, resonating equally with newcomers and seasoned readers alike.

Much of Part I leverages Professor Stephen Chew’s An Advance Organizer for Student Learning: Choke Points and Pitfalls in Studying. Harvard uses this foundational framework to clarify key concepts and common misunderstandings about memory and learning. Crucially, Harvard’s position as a classroom teacher lends him credibility and authenticity, grounding his insights firmly in practical experience rather than mere theory.

It’s as though we’re invited into Blake’s classroom, watching him expertly guide us through Chew’s graphic.

And this is precisely how he frames the opening of Part II, writing:

“It can be quite overwhelming to know just what is the best bet for optimizing working memory without overloading it while also making the most of moving the content to long-term memory. Compound that with the fact we are tasked with educating, not one brain, but a classroom full of them. That’s a job that only a teacher can understand and appreciate” (65).

Harvard then succinctly-yet-thoroughly guides readers through seven carefully considered strategies to maximize learning. In each case, he showcases a diverse array of tactics that enrich any skilled teacher’s toolkit—all with the ultimate goal of positively influencing student outcomes.

Throughout, he pulls back the curtain even further, transparently revealing how specific shifts in his own teaching practice improved student learning. Clearly, each change has been guided by careful investigation and thoughtful application of research.

That Harvard’s insights—long influential in the educational blogosphere—are now available in book form represents a win for educators everywhere. Rich in research yet highly accessible, this text serves as both an inviting entry point and a resource for deeper exploration.

So too does it underscore the essential role teachers can and should play alongside the research community, brokering knowledge and further bridging the unnecessary divide that sometimes impedes meaningful change. In an era rife with educational theory, Harvard’s concrete examples of classroom success help ensure that even hesitant educators find meaningful, practical guidance.

If Blake Harvard didn’t already have your attention, you’d do well to give it to him now.


If you’d like to learn more, Blake’s webinar on attention and memory will be May 4.


Justin Cerenzia is the Buckley Executive Director of Episcopal Academy’s Center for  Teaching and Learning. A Philadelphia area native, Justin is a veteran of three independent schools over the last two decades, dedicating his career to advancing educational excellence and innovation. A history teacher by trade, Justin nonetheless considers the future of education to be a central focus of his work. At Episcopal Academy, he leads initiatives that blend cognitive science, human connection, and an experimenter’s mindset to enhance teaching and learning. With a passion for fostering curious enthusiasm and pragmatic optimism, Justin strives to make the Center a beacon of learning for educators both within and beyond the school.

“AHA!”: A Working Memory Story…
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

Teachers, students, people: we spend lots of our time figuring stuff out.

Sometimes, we do that figuring out by sorting through options, considering similar situations in the past, trying out logical possibilities, and so forth.

And other times, the figuring out just happens: “AHA!”

If we’re going to think about these different mental experiences in a scientific way, we need technical terminology; so, let’s go ahead and call that first process “analysis” and the second one “insight.”

Analysis (I’m paraphrasing from this study here)

  • involves searching long-term memory for potential algorithms, schemas, or factual knowledge,
  • feels effortful, and
  • happens consciously;

Insight, on the other hand,

  • happens more-or-less automatically,
  • feels effortless, and
  • happens unconsciously.

The two questions I’ll explore below are:

  1.  how does working memory load influence the Aha! experience? and
  2.  how does the answer to that question shape the way we plan teaching?

Brace yourself for a radical answer to question #2.

AHA + Working Memory

Obviously, analysis loads working memory. All that comparing options and combing through long-term memory takes up scarce working memory resources.

A drawing of a small bird being freed from a cage -- against a brigth orange and yellow background.

But what about insight? Do those Aha! moments require working memory?

To answer this question, a group of Dutch researchers asked 100+ college students to solve fun mental puzzles.

Here’s the game:

I’m going to list 3 words, and you’re going to tell me another word that “goes with” all three.

So, if I say “artist, hatch, route,” you might come up with the word “______.”

Perhaps you came up with a solution by working your way through various familiar phrases: “con artist? makeup artist?” That would be an analysis solution.

Or perhaps the answer — “escape” — just came to you without any deliberate thought process. That would be an insight solution.

These problems have a splendidly cumbersome name: “compound remote association tests.” Happily, they allow for a handy acronym: CRA.

In their study, the Dutch researchers had students solve CRA problems.

One group of students had no additional working memory load.

A second group had a small WM load; they had to remember a two-digit string while solving problems.

A third group had a larger WM load; they had to remember a 4 digit string.

So, here’s the research question: did the WM load have an effect on analysis solutions or insight solutions as students undertook CRA tests?

Answers, Plus

“Yes, and no.”

In other words:

“Yes”: as WM load increased, the number of correct analysis solutions decreased.

“No”: as WM load increased, the number of correct insight solutions stayed the same.

Now, the first half of that answer was easy to predict. When researchers increased the WM load, the students’ WM “headroom” decreased. Because analysis requires WM capacity, students’ reduced headroom made CRA solutions harder.

The second half of that answer is really interesting.

Students were equally good at insight solutions no matter the WM load. The logical implication: insight solutions do not require WM. (At least, not in a way that is detected in this research paradigm.)

Now that we know the answer to that question, what do we teachers do with that information? How does it help us plan our teaching?

Thinking Aloud

I should say at this moment that I’m switching from research to speculation. That is: the blog post up to know has been a summary of a research study. I’m now leaving that study to consider what we might do with this information.

First off, I suspect that a very large percentage of the school work students do requires analysis, not insight (as defined in this study).

That is: my students have to think their way through grammar solutions. They have to ponder the meaning of that symbol — or that sentence — right there.

They rarely say: “it just came to me — that’s a participle!”

If I’m right that MOST school work relies on analysis, then MOST of the time we teachers must focus on working memory load.

If we place too much stress on working memory, we will hamper our students’ ability to accomplish those analytical tasks.

But…drum roll please…I can imagine niche-y circumstances where we WANT students to prefer insight to analysis. In those circumstances, I hope my students say, “Aha!” rather than “let me think about that.”

For instance: improv theater.

When actors try improv, we want them to “get out of their heads” and let instincts take over. (For the record: I’m bad at improv my self, but I founded and coached an improv troupe at the high school where I taught.)

This thought process leads to an even more surprising idea…

There’s a First Time for Everything

I spend much of my professional life explaining working memory to teachers and coaching them to avoid working memory overload. After all: “no academic information gets into long-term memory except through working memory.”

If, however, WM load hampers analysis, it might thereby indirectly promote insight.

Perhaps then I should deliberately ramp up WM load during improv rehearsals. This approach would make analytical solutions less likely, and in that way make insight solutions more likely.

This improv-coaching idea leads to other, equally radical possibilities. Are there other times during a students’ academic career where we prefer insight to analysis? Should we, during those lesson plans, keep working memory demands unusually high?

I can hardly believe that I’m seriously talking about deliberately stressing working memory. My professional identity is wobbling.

TL;DR

A recent study by Dutch researchers suggests that analytical problem-solving requires WM, but insight problem solving doesn’t.

This finding has prompted me to wonder if we should — in rare circumstances — increase WM load to make students’ insight solutions likelier.

That possibility is entirely new to me — but quite fun to ponder. I hope that my WM friends — and my improv friends — will join the conversation.

 


Stuyck, H., Cleeremans, A., & Van den Bussche, E. (2022). Aha! under pressure: The Aha! experience is not constrained by cognitive load. Cognition219, 104946.

Overwhelmed Teachers: The Working-Memory Story
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

We spend A LOT of time working to prevent student working memory overload. In this post, our blogger asks about the dangers of TEACHER working memory overload.


If I could pick one topic from cognitive science for ALL TEACHERS to study, that topic would be working memory.

This small mental capacity allows us to select, hold, reorganize, and combine bits of information (and other things).

So, if you try to put the five days of the work week in alphabetical order, you’re using your working memory.

Alas, because working memory is so small, it gets easily overwhelmed.

Quick: try to put the twelve months of the year in alphabetical order.

Unless you’re writing words down, you almost certainly can’t do it.

Why does this cognitive insight matter?

Because our students have to select, hold, reorganize, and combine bits of information ALL THE TIME. We call that “learning.”

Stressed teacher sitting in front of a white board with comlex mathematical equations on it

And the situation gets even scarier: when working memory is all-too-easily overloaded, learning stops.

Do you know a scarier sentence than “learning stops”?

For these reasons, I spend much of my professional life talking with teachers about working memory.

Given that I’ve even written a book on the topic, you’d think I’d run out of things to say. But…

More Things To Say

One working memory topic that gets relatively little attention: the teacher’s working memory.

That is: as teachers, we also must – at every second – select, hold, reorganize, and combine bits of information:

The lesson plan

The correctness of this student’s answer

The brewing argument between those two over there

The possibility of an un-announced fire-drill

The page number of the example I want to include

The insightful point I want to bring up at the department meeting next period

Oh, wait! I need to get orange juice on the way home…

This list could easily go on for pages.

In other words: students face the potential for working memory overload all the time. And: TEACHERS DO TOO.

When students’ working memory is overloaded, “learning stops.” When teachers’ working memory is overloaded, our effective functioning also stops. Cognitively, we bonk.

What to Do?

To manange student working memory, I encourage teachers to try a 3-part approach:

Try to ANTICIPATE working-memory overload. (If a lesson plan has lots of instructions, I can predict students’ working memory will crash.)

Try to IDENTIFY overload. (That face the student is making — that’s a sign!)

Try to SOLVE overload. (Using, say, dual coding, or powerful knowledge, or stress reduction…)

If we can do these three things, we’re likely to help students stay within a working-memory comfort zone.

I think that these same three categories might be useful in managing our own working memory.

So: can I ANTICIPATE when my working memory will be threatened in class?

Honestly, that’s easy!

When I have especially important or stressful obligations outside outside of school (say, a trip to the hospital after work).

When I’m teaching a new/complex topic.

When I didn’t get much sleep, and/or am sick.

When I’m managing multiple school roles: teacher AND dean AND coach AND adviser AND…

When I’m trying out a new kind of technology. (Remember your first weeks of zoom teaching?)

Of course, your list will differ from mine — because you and I are two different people. But I suspect you can, fairly easily, come up with your own version of this checklist: “if THIS is happening today, my working memory might really struggle.”

Good news: if you can anticipate when your own working memory might buckle, you know when to start shoring it up…

Check Your Mirrors

Once we have anticipated the times when our own working memory might be overloaded, we should then learn to IDENTIFY the experience of overload.

In my own work, I’ve learned to rely on three key indicators.

First: word salad.

Because I talk about complex and technical topics, I often talk in complex sentences with lots of technical vocabulary.

When my working memory gets overloaded, I find that my sentences fall apart. The subordinate clauses fight with the appositives, and I can no longer remember the subject of my verb.

Instead of trying to “identify” working memory overload, I might tell teachers to “redentify” it. (I don’t think “redentify” is a word.)

When I experience this word chaos, I know my working memory is in trouble.

Secondthird of three

When I discuss working memory with teachers, they — of course! — ask questions.

I often say: “well, there are three answers to your question.”

But … you know where this is going … by the time I’m done with my second answer, I can’t even remember the question (much less the third part of the answer).

Yup: that’s working memory overload.

Thirdemotional barometer

My own cultural background isn’t big on emotions. (Growing up, I was allowed to have mildly positive feelings, but everything else was discouraged. Mildly.)

For that reason, I’m not great at monitoring my own emotional state.

But I have learned: when I start feeling penned in and frustrated — when my chest is a little tight and breathing, a bit of a chore — that feeling almost always results from working memory overload.

My body is saying: “I just can’t handle this mental load right now!”

When that happens, I know: it’s time to break out my working-memory solutions!

Here again, your list might not look like my list: you’ll discover your own ways to identify working memory stress. But, that list might be a useful place to start…

The Last Step

If I can anticipate that my working memory will be overloaded (because, say, I’m explaining the differences between direct objects and subject complements)…

…and I can recognize that my working memory IS overloaded (because, say, I can’t coherently answer my student’s question)…

…then it’s time to SOLVE my working memory problems?

How do I do that?

Well: I don’t want to overwhelm the reader’s working memory — so I’ll write about that in next week’s blog post.

Putting It All Together: Connecting “Motivation” with “Teaching Style”
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

Researchers tend to focus on particular topics in education.

Some folks study attention, while others look at motivation.

A research team here might look at working memory, while that team over there considers sleep.

And: let’s not forget about technology!

Of course, it’s useful to have specialists in each of these fields; each one is highly complicated.

At the same time, as teachers, we need to understand how all the pieces fit together.

College student smiling while taking notes on while studying

After all, if I’m successfully managing my students’ working memory load, but they’re not paying attention, then all my working-memory efforts have gone to waste.

For this reason, we’d like greater clarity about putting the pieces together.

For instance, you might wonder: what’s the relationship between cognitive load and motivation?

I’m so glad you asked…

Calling Austrialia

In a recently-published study, an international group of researchers asked almost 1300 Australian students in grades 7-10 to fill out surveys about their academic experience.

Some questions asked student to rate their teachers’ efforts to reduce the complexity of the material (that is, the “instructional load”):

On a scale of 1-7, they responded to statements like:

“When we learn new things in class, the teacher makes it easy at first.”

“As we work on tasks or activities in this class, the teacher gives good assistance.”

“In this class, the teacher makes sure we get enough practice before moving on to new tasks or activities.”

Other statements focused mental work the students were doing (that is, their “cognitive load”):

“The work in this class is very difficult for me.”

“The way information is presented in this class is too complex.”

Still others inquired about the teachers’ motivational strategies, and the students’ experience of motivation:

“The teacher communicates which learning goals he/she expects you to accomplish
by the end of the lesson;”

“The teacher doesn’t plan or organize too much. The lesson will just happen;”

“The teacher offers a very interesting, highly engaging lesson;”

“The teacher insists that you have to finish all your required work—no exceptions, no excuses”

As you can see right away, these researchers have an ENORMOUS amount of data to crunch as they calculate the relationships among all these variables.

By the way, we should note the researchers’ method here: they’re considering survey data. Some people — quite reasonably — worry that survey data can’t really capture classroom reality.

For instance, a student might perceive that “the teacher doesn’t plan or organize too much. The lesson will just happen.” But that perception might be entirely inaccurate.

With that caveat in mind, what did the researchers find?

The (Basic) Results: Reversing Assumptions

Given all the variables measured above, we can expect LOTS of findings — reported in graphs and equations and declarations.

What does it all boil down to?

The simple summary reverses a common belief.

Teachers often assume that “when my students feel motivated, they will learn more.”

These data suggest that “when my students learn more, they feel motivated.”

More precisely: according to the survey data, teachers who ensure that cognitive load remains managable help students learn more. That additional learning correlates with higher subsequent motivation.

This finding makes a rough-n-ready sense. For example: my students rarely clamor to learn grammar; they are, honestly, not super motivated to do so.

However, part of their demotivation results from the fact that grammar learning is notoriously difficult. (“Object complements,” anyone?) My students just feel bad when they keep failing at it.

If I teach well — that is, if I reduce the cognitive load of learning grammar — they are likelier to succeed at doing so. Result: they feel less demotivated. Heck, they might even feel motivated.

The (Advanced) Results: All That Lingo

Research ain’t research if it doesn’t include lots of niche-y terminology.

Unfortunately, as is often the case, the terminology here gets rather confusing.

Because the research team draws on two very different fields (working memory, motivation), and two different theories (cognitive load, self-determination), we can easily get bogged down in the terminological niceties.

For example, the researches consider a teacher’s motivational style along two axes: do the teachers support or thwart students’ needs; are they highly directive or not. The resulting four quadrants are broken down into further sub-categories, resulting in — I’m not joking here — EIGHT different teaching styles: “attuning,” “guiding,” “clarifying,” “demanding,” “domineering,” and so forth.

The word “autonomy” — quite an important word in self-determination theory — leads to particular puzzles.

We might reasonably think that “autonomy” means “the teacher encourages students by giving them relatively more freedom to explore and solve problems on their own.” However, in this terminological world:

“Autonomy support … directs attention towards activities that are necessary for learning, thus reducing the proportion of cognitive load that is extraneous.”

Which is to say, teachers support autonomy by “directing” students in specific ways. Lots of student freedom might sound “autonomous,” but that’s not what the word “autonomy” means in this context.

To Sum Up

I’ve focused on this terminology because I think the study’s results are easy to misunderstand.

Here is their conclusion, quoted from the abstract:

We conclude that by using load-reducing strategies and a motivating style characterized by structure and autonomy support, teachers can reduce students’ cognitive load and improve their self-regulated motivation, engagement, and achievement.

In that sentence, “autonomy support” does NOT mean “give students lots of freedom” or “be sure to emphasize voice and choice.” Instead, it means “students can think effectively and autonomously when teachers direct them towards specific and manageable cognitive work.”

That effective thinking, it turn, results in more learning, and higher levels of motivation.

The big picture: by putting together two distinct research fields — cognitive load theory and self determination theory — we can start to get a clearer picture of complex classroom realities.


 

 

A final note:

The title of this blog post includes the phrase “teaching style” because the researchers use it.

That phrase, however, does NOT mean that “learning styles” are a thing. They’re not.


Evans, P., Vansteenkiste, M., Parker, P., Kingsford-Smith, A., & Zhou, S. (2024). Cognitive Load Theory and Its Relationships with Motivation: a Self-Determination Theory Perspective. Educational Psychology Review36(1), 7.

Overwhelmed Teachers: The Working-Memory Story (Part II) [Updated with Link]
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

Last week, I offered an unusual take on working memory in the classroom.

Typically, I (and other writers) focus on the dangers of students’ working memory overload. Of course, we SHOULD focus on that problem — when students’ working memory is overloaded, they stop learning (temporarily).

Young teacher wearing sweater and glasses sitting on desk at kindergarten clueless and confused expression with arms and hands raised.

But last week, I focused on the dangers of a teacher’s working memory overload.

If I’m experiencing cognitive muddle, I won’t be able to explain concepts clearly, or answer questions coherently, or remember important school announcements. (Or, remember to buy the dog food on my drive home.)

So, I suggested teachers start by ANTICIPATING potential causes of working memory overload. (Say: teaching a complicated concept, or, unusual stresses at home.)

We should also be able to IDENTIFY working memory overload when it happens. (When my own working memory gets overloaded, I lose track of sentences and start garbling words.)

Next up:

Step #3: SOLVING — or mitigating, or reducing — working memory problems.

As always, the specific strategies that benefit me might not work for you. As my mantra goes: “don’t just do this thing; instead, think this way.”

The Power of Routines

By definition, routines live in long-term memory. Therefore, I don’t need to process them in working memory.

For that reason, classroom routines reduce my working memory load. (Important additional benefit: they also reduce working memory load for my students.)

So: I (almost) always begin class with a “do now” exercise. When students enter the classroom, they see that I’ve written questions on the board. They sit down and start writing their answers in their notebooks.

Once that routine has formed, I can use my working memory to process the answers that they’re writing, not to think about what I should be doing at this moment.

After we discuss their answers to my “do now” questions, I (almost) always review the previous night’s homework. I then remind them of their homework for the upcoming class. (This habit means that I don’t have to scramble and shout the assignment at them as they’re going out the door.)

Turn and talk? We have a routine.

Cold call? We have a routine.

Write your answers on the board? See previous answer.

By the way, Peps Mccrea wisely notes that creating routines takes time. That is: we initially spend class time on routine building, and therefore have less time for — say — learning.

But: once those routines are in place, we GAIN lots more time than we spent. And, because my working memory load has been reduced, I’ve got more working memory headroom to teach effectively.

Offload the Job

Of course, lots of the teaching work we do requires nimble and effective response to moment-by-moment events — responses that can’t be made into a routine.

In these cases, recruiting working memory allies can be an enormous boon.

During the 2021-22 school year, I had the great good forture of sharing a class with another teacher.

When I found myself getting verbally tangled — a clear sign of working memory overload — I would often hand off:

“Oh, wow, I can feel a mental traffic jam coming on. Mr. Kim, can you take over? What was I saying? Can you clarify the muddle I just made?”

He would then un-knot the explanatory thread I had tangled, and I’d have time to regain my mental bearings.

This strategy also helped out during hybrid teaching.

With most of my students seated in the classroom before me, I could quite easily forget all about the one or two “participating” from the iPad.

A wise colleague suggested creating a “buddy” system. The remote students picked an in-class buddy — and the buddy would check in to be sure they understood the discussion, heard their classmates’ comments, and had a chance to ask questions.

Because the buddy had that responsibility, I didn’t have to worry about it so much. Voila: working memory load reduced.

Offload, Part II

As I noted last week, working memory selects, holds, reorganizes, and combines bits of information.

So, the less information I have to “select and hold,” the lower the working memory load.

One easy way to offload the “select/hold” responsibilities: WRITE STUFF DOWN.

A few examples:

Following Ollie Lovell’s advice, I’ve started crafting “bullet-proof definitions” of important concepts. Because such a definition requires precision and nuance, it’s easy to get the words or the phrasing wrong.

For those reasons, I write down my bullet-proof definitions. I don’t have to use working memory to recall the nuances; I’ve got them on the page right in front of me.

Another strategy:

I write down the start/end times for each of my lesson-plan segments.

That is: my lesson plan might note that we’ll have a discussion about comic and tragic symbols in Act 3 Scene 4 of Macbeth — the famous “banquet scene.”

My notes will include the important line-numbers and passages to highlight.

And, I’ll also write down the times: the discussion begins at 10:12, and goes to 10:32.

This level of detail might sound silly. However, if I DON’T write those times, my working memory will be extra cluttered.

That is: part of my working memory will be processing our discussion (“Notice that Benjamin’s point contradicts Ana’s earlier argument. Can we resolve that disagreement?”).

But at least some of my working memory will be trying to calculate how much more time to spend (“If I let this part of the discussion go on to long, then we won’t have time Act 4 Scene 1. When should I stop?”)

That extra working-memory drag will slow down my processing ability for the scene discussion.

These simple steps to offload working memory demands help me focus on the teaching part of my job.

Your Turn

The strategies I’ve outlined above have helped me reduce the working-memory demands of my own teaching. In theory, anyway, they should help me teach more effectively. (You’ll have to ask my students how effective they’ve really been…)

Of course, these specific strategies might not help you.

The goal, therefore, is NOT that you do what I do. Instead, I hope you’ll think the way I thought: how to anticipate, identify, and reduce working-memory problems.

The more time you devote to these steps, the lower your working memory demands will be. The result: your students too will appreciate the clarity and focus of your classroom.


 

Update: 2/4/24

It seems I’m not the only one focusing on working memory overload for teachers.

Here’s a recent blog post from Doug Lemov — with videos!

Overwhelmed Teachers: The Working-Memory Story
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

If I could pick one topic from cognitive science for ALL TEACHERS to study, that topic would be working memory.

This small mental capacity allows us to select, hold, reorganize, and combine bits of information (and other things).

So, if you try to put the five days of the work week in alphabetical order, you’re using your working memory.

Alas, because working memory is so small, it gets easily overwhelmed.

Quick: try to put the twelve months of the year in alphabetical order.

Unless you’re writing words down, you almost certainly can’t do it.

Why does this cognitive insight matter?

Because our students have to select, hold, reorganize, and combine bits of information ALL THE TIME. We call that “learning.”

Stressed teacher sitting in front of a white board with comlex mathematical equations on it

And the situation gets even scarier: when working memory is all-too-easily overloaded, learning stops.

Do you know a scarier sentence than “learning stops”?

For these reasons, I spend much of my professional life talking with teachers about working memory.

Given that I’ve even written a book on the topic, you’d think I’d run out of things to say. But…

More Things To Say

One working memory topic that gets relatively little attention: the teacher’s working memory.

That is: as teachers, we also must – at every second – select, hold, reorganize, and combine bits of information:

The lesson plan

The correctness of this student’s answer

The brewing argument between those two over there

The possibility of an un-announced fire-drill

The page number of the example I want to include

The insightful point I want to bring up at the department meeting next period

Oh, wait! I need to get orange juice on the way home…

This list could easily go on for pages.

In other words: students face the potential for working memory overload all the time. And: TEACHERS DO TOO.

When students’ working memory is overloaded, “learning stops.” When teachers’ working memory is overloaded, our effective functioning also stops. Cognitively, we bonk.

What to Do?

To manange student working memory, I encourage teachers to try a 3-part approach:

Try to ANTICIPATE working-memory overload. (If a lesson plan has lots of instructions, I can predict students’ working memory will crash.)

Try to IDENTIFY overload. (That face the student is making — that’s a sign!)

Try to SOLVE overload. (Using, say, dual coding, or powerful knowledge, or stress reduction…)

If we can do these three things, we’re likely to help students stay within a working-memory comfort zone.

I think that these same three categories might be useful in managing our own working memory.

So: can I ANTICIPATE when my working memory will be threatened in class?

Honestly, that’s easy!

When I have especially important or stressful obligations outside outside of school (say, a trip to the hospital after work).

When I’m teaching a new/complex topic.

When I didn’t get much sleep, and/or am sick.

When I’m managing multiple school roles: teacher AND dean AND coach AND adviser AND…

When I’m trying out a new kind of technology. (Remember your first weeks of zoom teaching?)

Of course, your list will differ from mine — because you and I are two different people. But I suspect you can, fairly easily, come up with your own version of this checklist: “if THIS is happening today, my working memory might really struggle.”

Good news: if you can anticipate when your own working memory might buckle, you know when to start shoring it up…

Check Your Mirrors

Once we have anticipated the times when our own working memory might be overloaded, we should then learn to IDENTIFY the experience of overload.

In my own work, I’ve learned to rely on three key indicators.

First: word salad.

Because I talk about complex and technical topics, I often talk in complex sentences with lots of technical vocabulary.

When my working memory gets overloaded, I find that my sentences fall apart. The subordinate clauses fight with the appositives, and I can no longer remember the subject of my verb.

Instead of trying to “identify” working memory overload, I might tell teachers to “redentify” it. (I don’t think “redentify” is a word.)

When I experience this word chaos, I know my working memory is in trouble.

Secondthird of three

When I discuss working memory with teachers, they — of course! — ask questions.

I often say: “well, there are three answers to your question.”

But … you know where this is going … by the time I’m done with my second answer, I can’t even remember the question (much less the third part of the answer).

Yup: that’s working memory overload.

Thirdemotional barometer

My own cultural background isn’t big on emotions. (Growing up, I was allowed to have mildly positive feelings, but everything else was discouraged. Mildly.)

For that reason, I’m not great at monitoring my own emotional state.

But I have learned: when I start feeling penned in and frustrated — when my chest is a little tight and breathing, a bit of a chore — that feeling almost always results from working memory overload.

My body is saying: “I just can’t handle this mental load right now!”

When that happens, I know: it’s time to break out my working-memory solutions!

Here again, your list might not look like my list: you’ll discover your own ways to identify working memory stress. But, that list might be a useful place to start…

The Last Step

If I can anticipate that my working memory will be overloaded (because, say, I’m explaining the differences between direct objects and subject complements)…

…and I can recognize that my working memory IS overloaded (because, say, I can’t coherently answer my student’s question)…

…then it’s time to SOLVE my working memory problems?

How do I do that?

Well: I don’t want to overwhelm the reader’s working memory — so I’ll write about that in next week’s blog post.

Book Review: Teaching Secondary Science, by Adam Boxer
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

Let’s start by making this simple:

First: You should absolutely buy Adam Boxer’s Teaching Secondary Science: A Complete Guide. Sooner is better than later.

Second: You will probably not READ Boxer’s book so much as you will STUDY it. Have a pen handy; some sticky notes; your favorite memory app. Whatever system you use to keep track of big ideas and vital details — have it ready to work.

Now that I’ve been bossy, let me explain why.

Two Big Surprises

Surprise #1:Book Cover for Adam Boxer's Teaching Secondary Science: A copmlete guide.

I myself don’t teach high-school science. (I taught 10th and 12th grade English, and worked at a summer camp for 8-14 year olds.)

So, the title (Teaching Secondary Science) might suggest that the book isn’t for me.

Well, Boxer’s book (and the precision of his thinking) will absolutely make me a better English teacher; I suspect his approach will benefit almost any teacher.

Here’s why…

Surprise #2:

Longtime readers know my mantra: “don’t just do this thing; instead, think this way.”

That is: cognitive science research cannot provide us with a script (“do this thing”). Instead, that research CAN give us ways to think about memory and attention and motivation and stress. When we “think this way” about those topics, we’ll have better ideas about our teaching.

Well, Boxer’s book comes as close as any to effectively defying this mantra.

His book includes a GREAT MANY “do this thing” kind of instructions.

Phrase your question this way, not that way.

Present topics in this order, not that order.

Calculate cognitive load with this formula, not that formula.

You might think, given my mantra, I’d resist the specificity of his advice.

And yet, over and over, I found myself agreeing with his logic, and believing that I’ll do better classroom work if I understand and follow several of his scripts.

To my astonishment, I’m highly tempted to “do things Boxer’s way.” Why? Because he’s already done so much thinking for me.

Case in Point

I recently discussed Boxer’s book with a group of friends. All of us had highlighted this specific advice:

When introducing a concept, start with examples, not definitions.

Why?

Because definitions are necessarily abstract, and abstraction increases working memory load.

Examples, in contrast, live comfortably in the familiar, concrete world. This very  familiarity and concreteness reduce WM load, and thereby makes learning easier.

When my friends and I tried to apply this advice to our own teaching world, we immediately saw its usefulness.

The Spanish teacher said: don’t start with the abstract definition of the subjunctive; start with familiar examples in English.

The PD provider said: don’t start with abstract definitions of “declarative” and “procedural” memory; start with concrete classroom examples.

And so forth.

Two points merit notice here.

First: although Boxer writes about science instruction, his guidance applies widely across disciplines and age groups.

Second: although Boxer’s advice stems from (abstract) cognitive psychology, he frames it in (concrete) teaching suggestions.

That is: over and over, Boxer’s book practices what it preaches. His book does what he tells us teachers should do.

You perhaps have heard a conference speaker give passionate teaching advice (“never talk for more than ten minutes!”), only to defy this advice in his hour-long talk. Boxer carefully avoids such hypocricy.

The Big One

A few of my opinions in this interdisciplinary field approach heresy. Here’s one:

In my view, cognitive load theory helps experts talk with other experts about working memory load in the classroom.

Paradoxically, however, cognitive load theory almost certainly overwhelms the working memory of non-experts. It is, after all, complicated and jargony. (Quick: define “element interactivity” and “germane load.”)

For that reason, cognitive load theory probably isn’t useful as a framework for discussing working memory load with teachers. (Several people whom I admire are howling as they read these paragraphs.)

Boxer does not articulate this heretical claim directly. However, he enacts its conclusion quite directly.

That is: he translates the abstractions of cognitive load theory into a concrete formula — a proportionality formula using words anyone can understand.

Rather than reproduce the mathematical version of the formula here, I’ll summarize it this way:

Task complexity and abstraction increase working memory load.

The student’s background knowledge and the teacher’s support reduce working memory load.

Therefore, to optimize working memory load, we should look out for those four variables and manage them appropriately. (He’s got CHAPTERS on each of those topics.)

If you speak cognitive load theory, you see exactly how Boxer has translated its abstractions into this concrete formulation.

But — crucially — you don’t need to speak cognitive load theory to get its benefits.

Boxer, again, has taken his own advice. He has started with concrete examples rather than abstract definitions; he has thereby made it MUCH easier to learn from this book.

Always with the Limitations

Having raved for several hundred words, let me add a few quick notes of caution.

First: I don’t agree with absolutely everything Boxer writes. (I don’t agree with absolulety everything I write.) For instance: he emphatically champions mini white boards; I don’t think they’ll work in my context.

Second: Boxer’s examples draw on science teaching in high school in England. All three of those truths require some degree of translation as you apply his ideas to your work.

The English education system thrives of mysterious acronyms; you’ll just have to figure them out. When the SLT talks with the NQT about Supply, well, I can’t help you there.

Third: Full disclosure, I should point out that Boxer’s publisher is also my publisher — so I might have a conflict of interest in writing such an enthusiastic review. I certainly don’t think this connection has skewed my perspective, but you should have that information to make your own decisions.

These few points aside, I return to my initial hearty recommendation.

When you read and study Boxer’s Teaching Secondary Science, you’ll get specific and wise guidance for applying the abstractions of cognitive science to your classroom.

You’ll enjoy it, and your students will learn more.

When Prior Knowledge Bites Back: The Dangers of Knowing Too Much
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

In this blog, we typically highlight the benefits of prior knowledge.

For example: if a student knows a lot about baseball, she’ll be much more successful in understanding a reading passage about baseball.

Young rowan tree seedling grow from old stump in a sunlit forest.

That same student could struggle mightily with a passage about cricket. What’s an “over”? A “wicket”? A “badger”?

In the world of cognitive load theory, prior knowledge helps because it reduces working memory load.

An expert knows relevant definitions, concepts, procedures – and the relationships among them.

And because experts have all that knowledge in long-term memory, they don’t need to noodle it around as much in working memory.

The teaching implications of this insight:

First: find out how much prior knowledge students have on any given topic.

Second: ensure student have the prior knowledge they need before starting on any given topic. Don’t start it until they do.

NB: This second insight has important implications for many project pedagogies.

This conclusion is well settled in cognitive load theory. But: is it always true?

Is it possible that prior knowledge might increase working memory load? Could it make thinking and problem solving more difficult?

Thinking the Unthinkable

Here’s a question:

“To mitigate the effects of climate change, would it be a good idea to plant more Douglas fir, oak, and beech trees in the Black Forest?”

I know a bit about climate change, and a bit about trees, and I’m generally inclined to say “yes.” Because I’m a novice – that is, I don’t have lots of prior knowledge on these topics – the question strikes me as straightforward.

However, if I were an expert, I might draw on my prior knowledge to see additional complexities in the question.

For instance…

…those trees might be vulnerable to particular diseases or pests,

…they might harm the ecosystem in the Black Forest,

…they might – paradoxically – do some tree thing or another that would ultimately exacerbate climate change rather than mitigate it.

In this case, an expert’s prior knowledge could introduce complicating variables – and thereby increase working memory load.

A research team, made up of scholars from Germany and Australia*, tested this hypothesis.

As you would expect, they asked forestry experts and forestry non-experts to consider (roughly) the tree-planting question above.

The experts considered the question more complicated than the novices did. That is: that said that it required more thought, more simultaneous contemplation of variables, and more complex thinking..

And – here’s the kicker – their answers weren’t any better than the novice’s answers.

In Other Words

Putting all these pieces together…

Forestry experts’ higher level of prior knowledge increased their perception of the problem’s complexity;

It did so (probably) because they thought of additional variables not included in the question;

These additional variables increased working memory load;

Because of additional strain on working memory, these experts didn’t benefit from their prior knowledge – and didn’t answer the question more effectively than novices.

Wow.

The research team then went ahead and tested this same idea with 4th graders in Australia.

As often happens in research, the details get complicated. The headline is: when they tested a classroom analog of the same problem, they got somewhat similar results.

Students with higher levels of prior knowledge DID perceive the cognitive load to be higher.

However, when those students solved problems, they scored higher than when they did not have relevant prior knowledge. (Remember: for the forestry example, higher cognitive load eliminated the experts’ advantage in solving the problem.)

In other words: the potential dangers of prior knowledge do show up in the classroom, not just in abstract research exercises.

Teaching Implications, Take II

Above I wrote:

First: find out how much prior knowledge students have on any given topic.

Second: ensure student have the prior knowledge they need before starting on any given topic. Don’t start it until they do.

Based on this study, I think we should add another implication:

Third: stop and consider – how might a student’s expert prior knowledge interfere with their learning of this concept? What other concepts or procedures might they draw into a question in ways that unhelpfully complicate their thinking?

At this point, I don’t think we have enough research into the dangers of prior knowledge to have refined or thorough guidance in answer to those new questions.

I do think, however, we should get in the habit of asking them.

TL;DR

Typically, prior knowledge benefits students by reducing working memory load.

Therefore, typically, we should ensure they have relevant prior knowledge before starting a topic.

In some cases – according to this research – prior knowledge can complicate thinking when experts bring in too many ideas from their knowledge base.

In these cases, we should be sure to think through those potential dangers, and head them off as best we can.

And: we should follow this research pool. It’s an intriguing topic!


* One of the researchers here is none other than Ollie Lovell, who wrote an EXCELLENT book on Cognitive Load Theory for teachers. You can read my review here.


Endres, T., Lovell, O., Morkunas, D., Rieß, W., & Renkl, A. (2022). Can prior knowledge increase task complexity?–Cases in which higher prior knowledge leads to higher intrinsic cognitive load. British Journal of Educational Psychology.

Working Memory in Everyday Life
Andrew Watson
Andrew Watson

Imagine this scenario: you’re standing in the CVS toothpaste aisle, trying to decide.

You think you should be able to recognize something familiar, but honestly there are so many choices.

Which brand are you loyal to?

Do you want mint?

Fluoride? Foaming? Whitening?

A patented “sensitive teeth” formula? Bacon flavor?

I think I made up the bacon. But, given all those choices and all the combinations, you simply can’t decide.

The Roman Coloseum on a sunny day, with lots of people in view

If you’re like me, you feebly grab at something plausible and make a dash for the register.

If you’ve had a long day of grading, you might just give up entirely.

So: what on earth is going on in your head? Why is picking a box of toothpaste so exhausting?

Cognition Im/possible

When I meet with teachers, I regularly discuss the importance of working memory.

This vital cognitive capacity allows students to hold on to several bits of information, and to reorganize/combine them into new facts, processes, and mental models.

Oversimplifying a bit, you could say it’s where the learning starts happening in the mind.

This essential mental process, however, creates two important problems.

The first problem: our students just don’t have very much working memory.

If you see students forget the question they were about to ask, or give up on a shockingly simple task, or lose focus completely, you might just be looking at working-memory overload.

It happens all the time.

The second problem: most of the ideas that we want our students to learn already exist in our own long-term memory.

We really struggle to see the working-memory load included in their work, because we already know how to do it.

Why can’t they do this simple math problem?

Why do they struggle to use new vocabulary words into a sentence?

And, why isn’t the answer to a history question perfectly obvious?

In every case, the correct answer is in our long-term memory, but students must wrestle with it in their working-memory.

In other words, our own expertise obscures our students’ mental struggles from us.

But: when we go to the CVS toothpaste aisle, we know exactly what they’re going through. Too many mental variables – not enough headspace. Ugh.

When In Rome…

I’ve spent the last week in Rome for a conference, and – believe it or not – found myself thinking about all that toothpaste.

Why? Because: museums.

I visited several museums, and was repeatedly struck by my own working-memory overload.

For example, the room with all those coins:

What should I be learning from the hundreds (and hundreds!!) of doubloons and coppers and denarii?

Which are the most important examples?

Should I spot trends or cycles or dramatic shifts?

Of course, the museum folks know that I have those questions, so they provide answers:

Hundreds and hundreds of little cards with LOTS of information about the coins.

All that information includes specialized vocabulary.

And those vocabulary words get helpful definitions in parentheses.

All these answers – the information, the vocabulary, the definitions – benefit other experts in ancient coins.

But they leave me even more confused and overwhelmed.

In other words: like some teachers, museum experts did not recognize the cognitive overload experienced by many students/museum-goers.

I wanted to learn.

I wanted to understand.

Certainly I wanted to appreciate.

But I just didn’t know how to process SO MUCH STUFF. And, don’t get me started on  the rooms with helmets or wine-jugs…

Inherent Expertise

At the same time I noted my own experience of working-memory overload, I experienced several museum collections that did NOT overwhelm my brain.

For instance, the first room (more or less) in the Vatican Museum includes several hundred busts: matrons, soldiers, children, priests, emperors, even an enslaved person.

To my surprise, I didn’t feel overwhelmed; instead, I felt curious and enticed. I wanted to look at the faces and speculate about their identities and stories and personalities.

Why the different reaction? Here’s my hypothesis:

I have no expertise in coins (or wine jars), and so all those samples felt overwhelming.

However, I have LOTS of expertise with faces. I spend most of my days interacting with them and the personalities behind them.

My inherent expertise with faces meant that 1000 busts felt fun and interesting, whereas 1000 helmets filled me with boredom and dread.

Classroom Implications

I said above that our teacherly expertise makes it difficult for us to spot our students’ working memory struggles.

For that reason, I think we should always look out for the working-memory overload that we all experience.

Driving to a new location in a rental car? Wondering where the rear defrost button is, and when to turn left? Could be working memory overload…

Navigating a new cafeteria, trying to find the silverware and the beverages and the gluten-free options? The salad dressing is where again? Yup: working memory overload…

Too many options when you’re trying to choose a hotel on that website? Perhaps you’re furious about all those helpful pop-ups? You know the feeling…

In brief: the better we get at recognizing working-memory problems in our own lives, the better we may become at spotting the problems our students are likely to have.

Empathy may be the pathway to understanding.

And, that empathy just might help us teach better.