Rule #5

This week’s rule is #5 of George Washington’s Rules of Civility:

If you cough, sneeze, sigh, or yawn, do it not loud but privately;

and speak not in your yawning, but put your handkerchief or hand

before your face and turn aside.

I have a slightly embarrassing confession before we begin…

I tried - truly tried - to dissent this rule the same way I did the first four. I sat down with my notebooks, my tea, and my delusions of scholarly grandeur, fully prepared to unearth some profound philosophical wisdom hidden between George’s commas, and underneath his words.

Surely, I thought, surely there must be a deeper metaphor here. A symbolic layer. A touching moral. A lesson about and for the soul.

But I couldn’t find one. So, I dare say my friends - Rule #5 is exactly what it looks like. It is literally saying: Don’t cough, sneeze, sigh, or yawn loudly. Turn away and cover your face.”

That’s it!

There is no political allegory.

No secret emotional resonance.

No deeper message about society or the human condition. 

It’s just: Please don’t blast your bodily noises at people.

And honestly? Once I got over my need to extract poetic meaning from everything, I realized something:

Sometimes courtesy is literal.

Sometimes a rule is blunt because… well… some people genuinely need blunt.

So with that very humbling realization, let’s jump into what is unquestionably the most straightforward rule in this entire list - and somehow still quite relevant.

This rule is essentially the 18th century version of: “Cover your mouth, Todd!”

And honestly? For all its old-timey phrasing, it is surprisingly timeless.

But because this is my blog and not a museum, I’d like to take you on a journey - a journey through the sights, sounds, and bodily noises that modern humans still unleash upon the innocent public, despite 300 years of reminders not to.

And we’ll laugh. We’ll cringe.

We’ll question the future of humanity!

But by the end? We just might become better people. Or at least quieter sneezers (I really need to work on that one).

The Sneeze Heard Round the World 

I can most certainly be accused of this - a thousand times over!

Yes, sneezing is a natural human function. We all do it. 

But some of us do it politely.

And then there are others… like me.

The ones whose sneeze sounds like a Boeing 747 attempting lift-off inside a library. These are the people who inhale for so long that everyone around them panics because they assume CPR is about to be required.

These are the people who sneeze with their entire body, launching themselves forward like a weaponized slingshot. You know who you are.

Washington wasn’t asking you not to sneeze. He was asking you not to sneeze like you’re trying to break the sound barrier.

And honestly, that’s fair.

Truth is - I started young, attempting to entertain others with my sneezes - being ridiculously loud and making funny noises throughout. It also helped that I always sneeze in sets of 3 or more. It additionally helped that my sneeze almost always did get a reaction. But I digress. I’m not that young anymore and it seems silly that I still do it. I’m certain there is a denomination of some religion out there that would require me to feel shame and admit as such now….

I’ll think about it.

The Cough That Might Be Tuberculosis

Modern etiquette challenge: The “I promise I’m not contagious” cougher.

They cough.

Everyone stiffens.

They cough again.

Everyone mentally reviews their will.

We have all been in the grocery store aisle with that person - the coughing, hacking, lung-rattling noise that screams, “”RUN! SAVE YOURSELVES!”

This rule? GW was basically saying: “If you must cough, maybe don’t audition for a Victorian death scene in public.”

Cover your mouth. Turn away. Cough at a volume that doesn’t cause birds to evacuate the nearby trees.

Seems simple.

The Yawner Who Seems to be Signaling Aliens

Yawns don’t need to be loud. They really don’t. We’ve all done it! Been in a meeting, or gawd forbid - a job interview, and felt a yawn come on. So we do everything in our capacity and power to hide it. We don’t allow the mouth to open, but force the yawn to remain at the back of the mouth while our lips remain closed. Then we make it look like we’re taking a deep breath, bring our hands to our face as though in deep thought (but really we’re hiding the visible expansion of our throat), spread them over and down our neck and then casually return to the start position. All the while, we’re either praying no one notices, or congratulating ourselves on successfully hiding the yawn.

See? It’s possible to be discreet.

Yet some people do this dramatic, slow, operatic yawn that echoes through a room like they’re calling their ancestors. Or maybe they’re simply attempting to speak Wookie.

You’ve seen it - the head tilts back 90 degrees. The jaw unhinges like a python. The sound starts quiet and becomes a full-body groan. And they stretch their arms like they’re preparing to ascend to the stars.

Washington didn’t want yawning gone - he just wanted it done privately. Preferably without theatrics.

The Overly Emotional Sigher

Sometimes a sigh is just a sigh. And sometimes, it is a performance piece.

There is the polite sigh, used when you’re tired. Then there is the “passive-aggressive roommate” sigh - a loud, exaggerated exhale performed specifically for an audience. If you have kids, you know what I’m talking about. Your teenager sighs because you ask them to pick up a sock. Your pre-teen sighs because you ask them (for the millionth time) to put their dishes in the dishwasher, not next to it. 

Washington’s rule? He was politely saying: “Handle your emotional climate quietly, please.”

Which, whether we like it or not, is absolutely still basic courtesy.

Why Was Washington so Obsessed with Bodily Noises?

Let’s be charitable: Washington lived in a time before modern medicine, before indoor plumbing, and before noise-cancelling headphones.

People didn’t have a lot of personal space.

People didn’t bathe daily so they were… fragrant.

And people didn’t wash their hands nearly enough.

The last thing anyone needed was someone sneezing openly in their face with 18-century germs. Trust me, you wouldn’t want it either.

Rule #5, at its core, is simple: “Keep your bodily functions to yourself when possible.”

But Also…He’s Right. It Is Common Courtesy

We are a modern society. We have evolved (at least, on paper).

Yet, people still sneeze into the open air like a sprinkler system. People cough without covering their mouths. People sigh loudly during lectures. People yawn mid-conversation without even looking away.

And an old favourite: People who burp in public (yes mom, you read that right).

This rule still exists because humans still absolutely need the reminder. 

Modern Offenses Washington Could Not Have Foreseen

If George Washington time-traveled to 2025, he would add an entire appendix. And here are some 21st Century bodily-noise-adjacent offenses I believe he would absolutely add to the rulebook: 

1. The Loud Chewer - if I can hear you chewing from another room…we have a problem. And further…If I can identify the food from the sound… we have a larger problem.

2. The Microphone Mouth-Breather (Zoom edition) - “PLEASE MUTE YOURSELF!” Every person on every online meeting since 2020.

3. Sniffling Instead of Blowing Your Nose - just blow it (again yes mom, you read that right). It’s okay to blow your nose, none of your brains will fall out, just the gross stuff. Just do it.

4. The “Phone on Speaker in Public” Person - I think Washington would lose his mind. I’m willing to bet he would write an entire book about this.

The Etiquette Behind the Comedy

Humour aside, Rule #5 is not about suppressing humanity.

It’s about remembering that we share space - a common theme in these rules thus far.

Bodily noise is not immoral. It is simply…disruptive.

Washington’s rule, broken down simply, is basically, yet again - be aware. Be considerate. Be mindful that your noises affect others. Which is timeless.

And painfully needed.

We Can Be Ourselves - Just Not at Full Volume

There was a time, it started far back but continued on so that it’s not too far in my memory, when I rolled my eyes at instructions like this rule. I thought, How rigid. How uptight. Let people be!

But the more I watch the world, the more I realize there is a point. Because I also hate trying to talk to someone who has an earbud in. I hate listening to a stranger hack up a lung at max volume (yes partially because I empathize with the possible illness, but also because it’s gross, and distracting). I hate trying to learn in a classroom full of fidgeting, tapping, whispering, and clicking. I hate when someone yawns dramatically mid-sentence as though I personally exhausted them.

As written previously for the preceding rules, it isn’t about shame. It’s about presence and mindfulness. It’s about the societal contract that says: I will try not to make life harder for the people around me.

Modernizing the Heart of the Rule

If your body is about to make a noise, aim it discreetly.

Not because you’re a bad person if you don’t, but because you’re signaling: You matter enough that I will be considerate.

One Final Thought

As I worked through this rule - and honestly, the ones before it - another question hit me.

Why haven’t we been listening?

Why have so many of us (myself included for sure) spent years ignoring, rejecting, or rolling our eyes at these basic courtesies?

And after some reflection, I don’t think the problem was the rules themselves - though I think many felt that way. I know I did. I think it was the delivery.

Most of us didn’t grow up hearing these guidelines framed as skills that help us build healthy relationships, respectful communities, or even self-respect.

Instead, we heard - “Don’t do that, it’s rude”, “People will think badly of you”, “You’ll embarrass yourself (or me)”, “You’ll never make friends if you act like that.”

In other words: we were taught shame, not value.

We were taught that etiquette was a threat to our social survival - not a tool for connection. We learned that a broken rule meant we were broken, or messy, or failing, or not measuring up.

So of course we rebelled.

Of course we pushed back.

Of course a generation eventually said. “Enough. I’m done bending myself into pretzels just to avoid disappointing strangers.”

We weren’t rejecting courtesy. We were rejecting the feeling that courtesy demanded self-erasure. But here’s what I’ve discovered while revisiting these rules as an adult.

When you strip away the shame-based framing… When you stop treating etiquette like a compliance test… When you look at these rules as reminders to be present, respectful, and mindful…

You realize they’re not about what others think of you. They’re about who you’re choosing to be, and what you think of yourself.

They’re about valuing yourself enough to show up with intention. They’re about valuing others enough to treat their comfort as worthy of your consideration. They’re about taking up space responsibly, not fearfully.

And that - to me - feels empowering instead of restrictive.

Grounding, instead of stressful.

Kind, instead of judgmental.

Would this reframing have changed anything for my younger self? I honestly don’t know, and can never know.

But I do know this:

It resonates now. Deeply.

And in a world where so many people are fighting to be seen, heard, and respected, maybe revisiting these old rules through a modern, humane lens is exactly the reset we need.

Ⓒ November 2025. Beki Lantos. All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, or transmitted in any form by any means without prior written permission of the author.