Someone in my life who shall rename nameless (you know exactly who you are) is a scream sneezer. It is the loudest sneeze you’ve ever heard, and he manages to make it sound like he’s screaming AH SH*T—although he swears he’s not cursing on purpose. It’s so loud that it has woken our deaf dog out of a deep sleep, made more than one baby cry and set off a car alarm. I am not kidding. At this point, I’m less concerned about his sinuses than I am about whether our homeowners insurance covers sonic weapons.
Thus far, I have not punched him, but every sneeze startles me so badly that I fear the day is coming. I don’t want to be the first person convicted of assaulting someone for having a functioning respiratory system, but I also can’t comfortably rule it out.
If you’ve never been around a scream sneezer, I envy your innocence. They are a small but disproportionately terrifying percentage of the population, and once you’ve encountered one, your nervous system is permanently changed. You will forever brace yourself whenever someone in the vicinity inhales a little too deeply because a perfectly ordinary sneeze becomes a potential jump scare.
So, yes, scream sneezing is certainly alarming. And frustrating. And annoying. And an affront to “use your indoor voice.” But is it actually rude? After all, my loved one—yes, I still love him—swears that he isn’t trying to be so loud. He claims that his sneezes simply emerge dramatically, like a firework going off in a library. He swears he is not deliberately trying to frighten small children or make the dog question its place in the universe. I am not so sure.
Let’s chat about this.
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Why scream sneezing feels rude
I am not the only person bothered by scream sneezes, and generally speaking, anything that makes a significant portion of the population want to throw a shoe at you deserves at least an etiquette investigation. So why does it feel so rude? Two factors: loudness and germs.
Scream sneezes aren’t just loud; they are loud loud. A study conducted by Noise Measurement Systems found that the average male sneeze is around 90 decibels when measured from 2 feet away. That’s roughly as loud as a blender running at full speed, except the blender has the decency to have a lid. The noise level does depend on the sneezer’s physiology—smaller lungs make quieter sneezes, for instance—so if the average is at 90 decibels, then scream sneezers could be entering jet-engine territory. So while I couldn’t find exact numbers for the volume of my loved one’s scream sneezes, I can report that he has made me question whether our windows are double-paned.
A sneeze is not merely a noise. It is a biological event involving a rapidly expelled mixture of droplets and particles and … other, potentially infectious, things. MIT researchers studying sneeze dynamics found that larger droplets can travel several feet, while smaller particles may travel up to 20 feet, depending on conditions. The exact distance depends on the sneeze and the surrounding environment, and we don’t know that a louder sneeze necessarily sends germs farther. Still, if someone is going to unleash a respiratory weather event in your direction, you would prefer they at least attempt to contain it.
A scream sneeze, then, combines two of the most universally disliked things in public life: an unnecessarily loud noise and the possibility of being involuntarily included in someone else’s germ-distribution system.
The case for scream sneezing being fine
My loved one claims that because sneezing is a natural bodily function, it is exempt from etiquette. This is an interesting legal defense. I look forward to hearing him explain it to the next person who crop-dusts an elevator. Natural bodily functions are not, in fact, exempt from etiquette. We have rules about all sorts of them.
- Farting: Releasing a silent but deadly cloud into a crowded room and then walking away is generally frowned upon. Whenever possible, take your business elsewhere.
- Burping: A burp may escape involuntarily, but you generally shouldn’t belch like a medieval king at a dinner party. If one gets away from you, a quick “Excuse me” is appropriate.
- Nose picking: Your nostrils are yours to manage, but the rest of us do not need a front-row seat to the maintenance.
- Nail clipping: Even if your nails have grown to the length of talons, public transit is not a mobile manicure salon.
Etiquette does not require us to pretend our bodies don’t do strange things. It asks us to manage those things with reasonable consideration for everyone else.
Of course, not all bodily functions are equally controllable. Sneezing is a reflex, and trying to forcibly suppress a sneeze can actually be harmful, potentially damaging your eardrums and even rupturing blood vessels in extreme cases, according to the Cleveland Clinic. We should not expect anyone to achieve perfect control over something their body does without permission. But the question isn’t whether or not sneezing is rude—as long as you cover your mouth, you’re fine—but the screaming aspect of it.
I couldn’t find any research about how much control people have over the volume of their sneezes. Researchers have apparently been too busy studying important things like the trajectory of airborne pathogens to settle the disputes that actually matter to society. And I’m willing to entertain the possibility that some people genuinely cannot reduce the volume much. We all have different bodies, reflexes and medical circumstances.
But I also suspect that some scream sneezers have simply never considered whether they could do anything differently. When you’ve spent your entire life sneezing like a car backfiring, it may not occur to you that other people find it startling.
So, no, you cannot reasonably be expected to control what you genuinely cannot control. But you also can be reasonably expected to care about the effect you have on other people—especially when that effect may result in a mini cardiac event or a shower of germs.
How to scream sneeze without being rude
My loved one scream sneezes straight into whatever or whoever is in front of him. He says the sneeze comes on so quickly that he can’t do anything about it. He also dislikes covering his mouth because then he gets snot on his hands. This is the part of his argument I find particularly compelling, in the sense that I find it compelling evidence that he has misunderstood the entire purpose of etiquette. He would rather distribute his mucus among innocent bystanders than briefly inconvenience himself.
A big part of scream sneezing is where it is happening and who is affected. For instance, if you’re at home by yourself, do whatever you like. But once others are around, especially if it’s in a crowded, public venue, that changes the noise calculus. It also matters who is around you. A scream sneeze is more consequential around sleeping babies, startled animals, people with sensory sensitivities or anyone who may be particularly vulnerable to respiratory infections.
Similar to the etiquette around telling someone you’re sick, the etiquette requirements here are not especially demanding.
- Warn. Some sneezes surprise everyone, including the sneezer themselves. But often you do have a bit of warning that one is coming. Use this time to warn people around you (“Sneeze incoming!”) and turn or move away to minimize the blast zone.
- Cover. You should always cover your sneeze. If you have time to grab a tissue, great. Otherwise, sneezing into your sleeve, the collar of your T-shirt or even your hands is better than just letting it fly through the air. Yes, you may get snot on yourself. This is a regrettable but manageable consequence of having a nose. (And please sanitize your hands afterward.)
- Muffle. At least try to do something to reduce the noise level of the sneeze, whether that’s quickly walking into another room or using something to muffle your scream, like a towel or thick coat to sneeze into. That said, nobody needs to contort themselves into a pretzel trying to silence a reflex. The goal is reasonable consideration, not sneeze perfection.
- Prevent. My loved one sneezes a lot due to allergies yet can’t remember to take the medication that would reduce all of his allergy symptoms, scream sneezing included. If allergies regularly turn you into a human confetti cannon, consider managing them with appropriate measures or discussing treatment options with a health-care professional. You don’t need to medicate yourself solely to make other people happy, but reducing symptoms may improve your own comfort as well as the comfort of those around you.
- Apologize. If you do happen to scream sneeze and startle and/or spray everyone, just offer a quick “I’m so sorry!” An apology is not an admission of guilt. It is simply a way of saying “I recognize that you were just minding your business when my face suddenly became a percussion instrument.”
- Clean. Just because you do it in public does not make it a community art installation. If you’ve sprayed mucus onto a table, counter or other shared surface, wipe it up appropriately and wash your hands.
What to do if you’re on the receiving end of a scream sneeze
I don’t know about you, but my first reaction when I’m startled is fear, anger and the desire to investigate whether I’m legally permitted to throw something. But punching the sneezer would definitely be rude—far ruder than the scream sneeze itself. It is also rude to shame someone, mock their medical circumstances or insist that they must be doing it on purpose. Even if you (and I) suspect that a person could control the volume at least somewhat, we cannot know what is happening inside their body. Offer grace … and perhaps a tissue.
If the behavior is genuinely affecting you, especially if the person repeatedly sneezes uncovered in your direction, it is reasonable to ask them to cover their mouth or turn away.
The verdict
Scream sneezing is not inherently rude, but refusing to do anything to mitigate it is. While sneezing is a reflex, involuntary does not equal consequence-free. My ruling? The sneeze itself is innocent; the mucus distribution strategy is where things get legally interesting. My loved one, for instance, may be acquitted of the noise charge due to insufficient evidence of intent. But the charge of sneezing directly onto other people because he doesn’t want to get snot on his own hands? That case is going to trial.
And I would like the record to show that the dog is available as a witness.
Have a social situation you can’t stop ruminating on? Email us at advice@tmbi.com, or message Charlotte on Instagram at @CharlotteHiltonAndersen.
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Sources:
- MIT: “Violent expiratory events: on coughing and sneezing”
- ABC News: “Can you control how loud you sneeze?”
- Cleveland Clinic: “Can Holding in a Sneeze Hurt You?”
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