An ode to the examination

Whether sitting in a poorly-ventilated school hall trying to differentiate algebraic equations or in the ornately-decorated Examination Schools at the University of Oxford dressed in sub fusc (the absurd variations of which continue to astound), the very mention of an examination can cause one to shudder. Aching hands; brain fog as the minutes tick away; or the fear that one may be writing claptrap amidst spiking cortisol levels all spring to mind. More recently, university examinations have faced unwarranted disruption from invasions of violent protestors seeking to obliterate the very idea of a university.

Yet today the thought of an examination provokes tremors not just amongst past, present, or soon-to-be university students. Many of those on the opposite side of the table have few positive thoughts about this pillar of student assessment. For them, examinations are old-fashioned, redundant, and should be confined to higher education’s history books. Instead, for them, the way forward should be pre-submitted coursework wherein a single two- or three-thousand-word termly essay will be enough to assess a student’s knowledge and understanding. 

These examination naysayers posit three arguments. Firstly, that in their post-graduation lives, university students will never be asked to complete tasks that resemble an examination. Committing ink to paper by way of three essays in three hours, so this argument goes, does little to prepare you for the real world. Secondly, faced with ongoing financial woes, universities lack the resources to hold examinations. Those that are not graced with examination venues must seek to hire sites large enough to host their examinees, which comes at a cost. Third is the view that examinations are time-consuming to mark. For many academics, the prospect of being confined to their offices on a summer’s day surrounded by piles of precipitously-written scripts is a burden of the highest order. Hieroglyphic handwriting is an assault on the eyes. Instead, why not skim-read typed coursework essays, make every student write only one per term to reduce said burden, and immediately award a Second Class degree? (For nobody is allowed to fail.)

Each of these arguments reeks of illiteracy. Put together, they form an even more bizarre cocktail of perversion. If handwritten examinations should be abolished on the grounds that students will never have to repeat such an experience in their post-university careers, then one might as well jettison school examinations for GCSE and A-Level qualifications, too. Just for good measure, why not abandon the teaching of spelling and grammar, as many schools already seem to have done? After all, in the world of work, one can just ask everyone’s new best friend, Claude, to correct any errata. 

With respect to claims that resource constraints hinder the holding of examinations, one need not be a professor of logic to realise that this argument is a non-sequitur. Here, it is not a question of a lack of resources but a failure to use existing resources optimally. For instance, King’s College London has held examinations in the ExCeL Centre and Kensington Olympia, respectively. These venues are scarcely a stone’s throw away from the university’s campus at Somerset House. Yet, a decision to maintain in-person examinations highlights a university’s commitment to preserving its fundamental goal: to teach students how to think. After all, whence did such a sudden resource shortage arise? There was no such shortage a decade ago. 

The case for a return to handwritten, in-person examinations becomes stronger by the minute

As for the third argument, there is little to say apart from that sloth is a deadly sin. The thought that marking coursework assignments may take longer than marking examinations seems to have crossed few minds.

As artificial intelligence ravages the once-hallowed walls of universities, the case for a return to handwritten, in-person examinations becomes stronger by the minute. Whether in tutorials or seminars, students who choose to attend university should learn to think, read, and write coherently, and provide evidence — and not ideological anecdata — to justify their arguments. The examination is one of the best ways of doing so: one learns how to think; how to organise one’s thoughts; and how to respond to unfamiliar questions in a disciplined manner. Surely today’s employers have not abandoned the importance of these skills on the part of their soon-to-be employees? And to those who say that students can declare any usage or abusage of artificial intelligence on coursework cover sheets, I encourage you to entertain the possibility that human beings do not always tell the truth. 

In a recent podcast on BBC Radio Four, I was accurately described as an advocate for a “retro” approach to examinations. Universities that rely exclusively on coursework and pre-submitted assignments in this AI age do not stand a chance of accurately assessing student performance. Any hope of testing a student’s knowledge and understanding, be it of Homeric hymns or East Asian politics, can be discarded. When my retro view — that in-person examinations form the principal, even if not sole, form of assessment — was put to the test, even I was somewhat surprised at the result. One university student deemed the idea to be “brilliant”; a second said that it would be a “fair test of our learning”. What is more, in a world plagued by the unholy trifecta of equality, diversity, and inclusion, my proposition embodied equality in its true sense, “because”, as a third student said, “everyone’s on the same playing field”. 

Universities need to wake up and smell the coffee. Of course, the issue of student assessment is one of a myriad of problems by which they are afflicted. Whether the threat of insolvency; a lowering of standards to increase undergraduate and postgraduate numbers and, in turn, revenue; or the long march of DEI warriors through the institutions as syllabi become “decolonised” and replaced by — to quote the late Professor David Abulafia — “arrant nonsense”, this litany of issues only looks to get longer. Amidst these challenges, the least a university can do is to uphold high academic standards by maintaining in-person examinations.

It is fitting that the final word goes to the late Ann Widdecombe, whose tragic death, under even more tragic circumstances, continues to shock us all. Addressing the Oxford Union in 2019, the Philosophy, Politics, and Economics graduate from Lady Margaret Hall, Oxford, asserted how “you succeed by defeating your opponent not by wishing him away” but through evidence-based argument.  

It is these skills that one learns from a university examination — skills that are invaluable for life.