Examining My Indian Examinations

Written shortly after receiving my results (May 2019) with specific reference to my own experiences, but I think this could easily apply to not just the ISC (has a variable reputation of being better if anything), but also to CBSE and examinations, and 10th as much as 12th grade. However, it is restricted to a discussion of the humanities.

I recently received an abnormally high score in my ISC exam- 99.5%. That’s an average of 3 100s in Political Science, History and Economics and a 98 in English. Another friend managed to score that full 100 in English as well. Now this may seem great at first glance, but second thoughts lead me to why exactly this was possible.

I studied in a school which has brilliant teachers and an equally encouraging peer group, everyone there believes in an education that is much more than marks and that reflects in the way we do our work everyday. In Economics, we used to take detours to play some educational games or go off on a debate about the use of foreign exchange money. In Political Science, we spent about a week discussing the landmark Sec. 377 judgement while 1 class a week was dedicated to a politics quiz. In History, we would start much before the prescribed time period and spend time theorising about the motivations and purposes of individual leaders as well as understanding cultural history alongside the political. In English, we dealt with our own coursework in a fresh way by making presentations on individual pieces. These different experiences have given me an education far more than what I bargained for, and I couldn’t be more grateful for it. But as 11th grade ended and we entered into the 12th, but more so towards the end of the 12th grade, we spent longer on something completely different- exam strategy.

I was definitely learning a lot in school, but in order to tackle the exams and score high marks, I need to do much more than just learn my subject. I needed to be able to present very specific matter in a very specific way. In Economics, we spent days poring over the “Analysis of Pupil Performance” which contained the previous years’ marking schemes and learning what was expected as keywords. In a single question, on let’s say ordinal analysis of utility for example, we would have to look over exactly what is expected of us. In one year, there may be 1 mark allotted to listing the assumptions made in the model, and in another year, none. They may expect us to explain the properties of an indifference curve in detail or in brief. A separate diagram of a budget line may or may not carry a mark in that specific year. We were advised to stick to phrases used in the Frank Economics textbook because that was the de facto bible of ISC Economics. Straying from its keywords might lead to confusion.

Such specific guidelines we had to construct from past marking schemes and teacher’s recommendations meant that we were building answers tailored towards getting marks. In fact, for the purposes of the exam most students would prepare model answers for expected questions. This practice wouldn’t be inherently wrong if the model answers were a result of one’s individual understanding of the subject matter, but these model answers were based on the best answer to cater to a possible marking scheme.

In History, the marking schemes seemed to be slightly better as they allowed for flexibility and marks were awarded for any 6 or 12 points as per the question. But here too, there is a predetermined answer to every question. One question, for example, asked something along the lines of “to what extent were Gorbachaev’s economic policies responsible for the disintegration of the Soviet Union?” This is an easy question to interpret in its superficial sense, but the ISC has another expectation of us. If a student were to spend a paragraph talking about his economic policies and then proceed to compare the way this affected the Soviet Union to other factors, it’s unlikely that they will be given their due marks though they have fulfilled the question asked. Here too, a predetermined set of points are expected- originality and creativity is lost, as Krishna Kumar pointed out in the Times of India the day after the results were announced.

In Political Science, again there is doubt as to whether the examination truly tests for a full understanding of the subject as opposed to just a specific expectation of what is to be known. A question in this paper is the best example to serve another point. One question posed was similar to “Recommend 3 solutions to challenges facing Indian democracy”. Clearly this is meant to allow the student to choose solutions and argue for why they would be effective. To be fair, in this subject the answer scheme is far more liberal (not in the sense of lenient), allowing innovative, well-argued points to be accepted wherever possible. But is it acceptable to say that anyone could answer this question perfectly? If the solutions were all objective, then one could say that it’s a matter of implementation and democracy can be ‘solved’. Most teachers and professors would disagree. My own teacher in this subject refused to ever give a full mark in any question because “there is no correct answer in Political Science”. While we may have grumbled about it and urged him to change his mind, it was unquestionable that there is indeed no correct answer. So what is it that justifies a perfect mark?

I think, I should add here, retrospectively as I read this, that I am not taking fault with the question itself which raises the need to make a ‘cogent’ argument that can be subjectively evaluated- I am raising issue with the idea that any such question can be answered perfectly, something I recall Krishna Kumar brought up as well with the number of 100s awarded in the humanities. A ‘fun fact’: I owe a lot to Krishna Kumar for bolstering my history project that year to make it something more than a rant, hence why I read a fair bit about his reaction to these results.

The same definitely applies to English, where “perfection” cannot be achieved by anyone- even Shakespeare and Frost have their critics. To say that any one composition is deserving of a full 25 out of 25 would be farcical on the part of the examiner, for even though in their mind they may see it as the best possible work that could be produced in that exam, some other examiner may have received it and perceived it otherwise. This is because elements of English language examinations such as style, pacing, plot and theme are highly subjective, though there are techniques which can be implemented to develop it.

It is true that each examination in the humanities and social sciences has an objective part and a subjective part. The fact that anyone is achieving a full mark lays waste to the subjective nature of the humanities- the power of argument, the essential principle that opinion can be diverse and each one can be legitimate is completely lost. This leads to a situation wherein unless there’s a conscious effort opposed to it, schooling becomes more about preparing for an examination than about preparing for a future in the chosen subjects where examination is a metric of that preparation.

Year on year the marks awarded keep on increasing, and this is a natural consequence of the general importance we place on marks. So much importance that it leads parents to strip away their child’s social communication, it leads children to undergo long durations of stress, leading to sleeplessness, nutrition and exercise issues and panic attacks. Marks matter, but they are not the solitary marker of one’s talent or identity, and if we are able to equip everyone with the ability to move past a failure by not just “consoling” them but creating a system in which alternative methods are easily accessible and different merits are recognised in the mainstream, then we will truly have succeeded in creating a good education system. But as of now, it appears that to most people, it’s getting a high score that defines schooling.

I think I should also add, in retrospect once more, that there are valid systemic reasons for such examinations in India to continue as they have. The basic reason, I think, is that any ‘better’ system raises further issues of privilege. As I mentioned, I had a great deal of privilege in my education- my teachers were not just good, they were not overburdened with a large number of students, several had assistants who actively contributed to teaching activities in class, and we had guests come in for interactions that were invaluable. If we move to a system that requires skills like argumentation, higher degrees of comprehension, etc. that would doubtless give the privileged who have access to people who can impart those skills in a conducive atmosphere a much better chance. Granted, today’s system of examination is not a paradise of equality either, as I believe my own case clearly shows privilege still wins, but it is fair to say that a student can more easily excel in such a system with access to the correct set of textbooks and time, even if they lack access to the other resources that could provide them with the above mentioned skills. Indeed, the fact that we have to compromise our examination system in order to accommodate the pitiable state of our education system is a distinctly damning indictment on its own, but I must confess I have no solutions, being only a student with a narrow range of experiences. I can only urge that education reformists (like, once again Krishna Kumar) are paid heed to.