As my youngest son sits his GCSE’s, with an apathy and indifference I never would have expected, I find myself reflecting on the validity, wisdom, and purpose of the current exam system in the UK.
The internet, technology, and smartphones are widely available. We have open access to information and a more advanced understanding of the teenage brain. Nevertheless, “intelligence” is still tested in a way that feels oddly stuck in the past. In fact, almost nothing has changed in the last one hundred years or so. Students still get an exam booklet. A lined answer booklet. A two-hour countdown. A one-size-fits-all paper. A ticking clock and no Google.
Where are the quills and ink?
You’d think as a former history teacher I would be happy. I am not.
What Are We Really Testing?
Exams do not test intelligence nor emotional ability and security.
They test memory, retention, timing, and the ability to stay calm under pressure. They reward students who can write quickly, read fast, and — truth be told- those who play the exam game. But what about those that can’t play or don’t want to! Our current exam system rarely rewards creativity, collaboration, communication, or emotional intelligence. These are the very skills we claim to value in the workplace and life beyond school.
Why is there so much pressure on our 16- and 18-year-olds? Is it wise to pin so much on how they perform in a two-hour slot on a Wednesday afternoon in June? Their qualifications, university offers, and job prospects depend on it.
The Cost of It All
The value of exams and their cost not just on students, teachers or indeed schools and their reputations, is huge. Financially it is wise to remember that exam boards are businesses. The cost of entries, invigilation, marking, appeals, re-marks — it’s enormous. Schools fork out thousands and I mean thousands every year. And for what? To receive a grade, currently numerical, that increasingly feels detached from actual ability or potential.
Are we investing in a fair system? Is there a level playing field does the the exam process reward not brilliance, but compliance.
Examiners will say the system is fair.
It is the same curriculum. The same paper. The same exam conditions. The same time. The same rules.
But what does equal actually look like in practice?
Because in schools, exam conditions can be anything but consistently equal. Even the room itself is important. Pity the students in a large hall with lots of others coughing and scraping chairs. Invigilators wander around, and there are sighs and sneezes, especially for those with hay fever. This is in contrast to the students who find themselves in a quieter, smaller classroom or exam base.
What about the children with extra time- equity after all not equality?
What about the students who have not had the curriculum delivered to them through no fault of their own?
And what about the rule breakers?
Take Destiny, for example — a clever, sharp-tongued student who successfully smuggled her mobile phone into her History paper, undetected. Until, of course, she tried the same trick in her English Lit paper. That time, she was caught. And her reaction? Shame – nope, remorse – nope, instead concern over how it would look for me and the school,
“Miss, imagine how bad this’ll make you look!” She was right to ask. I won’t lie. As the Head, I was worried about the implications of her actions for her and the school alike.
Still, I thought she was brave. I loved her spirit, audacity, and ingenuity and her challenge. Yet, I had to protect the sanctity of the exams. Thus, I dutifully reported said exam breach to the board. As a result, my school gained a new loyal fanbase. Exam inspectors visited regularly for the next two years. Destiny did not pass her History paper, but she made history with us. And I’ll never forget her.
But it’s not just the students who stumble.
Almost 20 years ago, as an eager Assistant Principal, I made the mistake of stepping into the Geography exam room to offer a few words of encouragement. I reminded the students that if they couldn’t recall a case study name, they could still describe it — a sensible, supportive clarification, I thought. The principal and invigilators were not happy and reported me to the exam board. They agreed I was in breach of exam guidance and thus banned from entering any exam hall for 12 months.
But these stories show this: the high-stakes nature of our current exam system can warp our sense of fairness, punish initiative, and leave both students and staff walking on eggshells during the most pressured time of the academic year
Is there a Better Way?
I’m not suggesting we throw out assessment altogether — of course we need to know what our students can do. But how we assess should show what we truly value.
What if we judged students on:
- A portfolio of work across the year?
- Group projects?
- Real-world problem solving?
- Presentations?
- Community impact?
- Kindness, empathy and manners?
We speak so often about preparing students for the “real world.” Yet, nothing is real about a silent exam hall. Writing 1,800 words in black ink just for electronic marking is unreal!
If you’re a student sitting exams this summer try not to worry it is just an exam. And as my mum used to say, “it will be alright in the end and if it is not alright then it is not the end.”
And if you’re a parent or teacher watching them navigate their way through this series of exams- speaking from experience- I offer the same words of advice!
The current system is not perfect. In fact, I’d argue it’s flawed, outdated, and unjust in many ways. But you are more than your grades This is true for our young people and for those teaching them.
No exam grade, whether it is a 9, 8, 7,6, 5, or a 1,2,3,4 can measure a young person’s character. It can’t measure their strength or their kindness. It also can’t gauge their resilience or empathy. Their resourcefulness and bravery are beyond the scope of grades. Most of all, their humour can’t be quantified by grades.
We should all remember that
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