Standardised, collective exams have no place in a university. They are a secondary-school habit that many higher education institutions in the Arab world still cling to, and they undermine learning, faculty and the mission of the university itself.
A borrowed practice
Research in the educational sciences shows that standardised, collective examinations at university are borrowed from assessment and curricular practices at secondary level. European universities used them until the late 1970s. Yet many university administrators across departments in the Arab world still import the testing practices of secondary schools, preparatory years and language centres into a university context. Because of the 'mass' or multiple-section syndrome, administration prefers to run exams collectively.
This practice is didactically and pedagogically unsound, even etymologically, and it leads to poor learning outcomes. Micro-learning is far preferable at this level of education. It leads to completion of the learning task, because students can follow the stream of thought around a concept, whether in literature or any other declarative knowledge, in the techniques and patterns of a translation, or in the application of concepts in applied or theoretical linguistics. When other instructors are brought in to standardise the exam, students cannot produce the same quality of outcome, because the close continuum of thought and reasoning is broken. Final exams are a different story.
Three disciplines, one exam
Take the English departments of the Arab region, or an entire faculty of languages. Each is inhabited by three mutually unintelligible disciplines, linguistics, translation and literature, plus, of course, the language institute or centre. Despite this, administration runs the exam the same way for all of them. Can you set questions in drama, research methods, technical or general translation, or interpreting techniques the same way you assess language or preparatory-year students? The knowledge frameworks, pedagogies and practices (professional practices in the case of translation and interpreting) are simply not the same. So why apply one model of assessment, usually the product of an industrial, factory-line model, to every class?
Students on a production line
Students are treated like a production line. They are placed in lanes and rows. We are not looking at their learning; we are waiting for them to reach the end of the line and hand in their paper, not to demonstrate their learning and performance in different ways, but to submit what they memorised by heart. The mere thought of the mass exam hall frightens a student into devouring the content, or not. It is not one hour that reveals the real student and the evidence of learning, but a series of formative and summative assessments over the entire semester. The mid-term, and even the final, should not always be unified. It depends on many variables, starting with the nature of the discipline.
Assessment is discipline-specific
What is lacking is knowledge and skill in designing university assessment. At university, assessment is discipline-specific. Translation and interpreting have a professional vocation, so assessment should target skills, knowledge, behaviour and values, not merely textbook content. We cannot evaluate students only on what is in their textbooks and then administer standard exams that annihilate whatever remains of their learning experience.
Education needs proper investment: the recruitment of competent faculty with pedagogical knowledge of their discipline (and, where possible, of the profession) who can take on the burden of designing sound assessment methods that lead to lasting, lifelong outcomes. Certainly not the mass, line and lane model.
Faculty colleagues need to do this work, at least for the first and second mid-terms and perhaps the final as well in translation and interpreting. If we claim that student translators will operate confidently in the profession upon graduation, then we must prepare activities, content and assessment methods that improve students' performance in knowledge, skills, behaviour and values. The standardised exam is not that kind of assessment, I am afraid.
Good practice versus poor practice
In good practice worldwide, especially in higher education, the hot topics are discipline-specific pedagogies, didactics and assessment methods. We cannot mix everything in one pot; these areas of knowledge are fundamentally different. In poor practice, as in some universities in the Arab context, we still believe that to teach at university, in an English department or elsewhere, all we need is:
- Textbook X
- Lecture up to chapters x, y and z, then run mid-term 1, mid-term 2 and the finals en masse, with coordinators collecting questions from faculty
- Call in the army of invigilators to police the 'villain' students
- Call every academic an 'instructor' during exam time, diminishing their status and professional standing, as if they were chess pieces to be moved wherever and whenever administration pleases. Full, associate and assistant professors are rushed out to do four or five invigilations in a miserable, stressful, unhealthy, unethical and non-pedagogical environment. There are universities where this happens.
What this does
Approaching exams in this way leads to two outcomes:
- It kills the mission of the university. Such assessment works against student success and against the lifelong, durable, social and interpersonal skills that the university's own mission statement and outcomes proclaim. Institutional inconsistency is unacceptable.
- It demeans faculty. Academics are reduced to 'guides', 'servants', teachers of textbooks and exam markers, the same model used in primary and secondary curricula. Administrators forget that faculty, especially those trained at good international institutions, gained academic freedom and the ability to produce knowledge through long doctoral training. Those powers are scrapped once unhealthy administrative and assessment practices are imposed unscrupulously. Faculty barely manage a decent empirical article a year under such conditions. They become mere textbook teachers, there to make life easier for administrators who prefer the factory, army and counter model of evaluation inherited from early twentieth-century curriculum practices in secondary, or perhaps primary, schools.
Takeaway: assessment at university must be designed by the discipline, for the discipline. The standardised mass exam is a relic, and it costs us students, faculty and the mission we claim to serve.