A Rough Guide To Merit

Placed prominently within President Trump’s controversial “compact” for higher education was a call to center merit in admissions. The president’s offer to universities, which followed more than a decade of battles over what factors to consider in admissions, has sparked new debates about the meaning and value of merit.

In particular, some college-admissions officials have pushed back on the idea that merit exists or have said that they have more meritorious individuals than spots. The second claim is partially true, but the first is not. Many selective colleges offer even more selective merit-based scholarships, which shows that they have at least some understanding of the term. And if they have a way of selecting individuals for those, surely it could be used for the rest of the class.

Some college-admissions officials have pushed back on the idea that merit exists. For admissions purposes, academic merit should mean the capacity to learn and grow through independent thought, sustained effort, and readiness—or the demonstrated ability to become ready—for rigorous study. For colleges seeking to measure such things, I think that three factors, relative grades, tests, and essays, are great metrics, though the choice of grade or test should vary by school. These may not be perfect gauges for merit, but, when navigating unfamiliar territory, a map you trust (and acknowledge is a map) is better than nothing.

Before diving into why that is, it is worth acknowledging why colleges sometimes consider non-merit factors and why merit should still matter despite these reasons. Colleges want student bodies they feel will enrich the university, which at least theoretically requires students with a wide variety of backgrounds. They also often want to admit legacies or the children of celebrities. In both cases, these individuals may not be as meritorious as the people they’re competing with, but colleges have reasons to admit them and accept the tradeoff as one made in the service of their institutional interests. But these are departures from merit, not redefinitions of what merit means.

A successful society is one that rewards effort and ability, not aristocratic notions of birth and blood. Merit still matters. A successful society is one with pathways to success that reward effort and ability, not aristocratic notions of birth and blood. Indeed, this is what made the fledgling United States distinct from Europe. Merit helps people rise and fall based on who they are, not who they know. Colleges seeking to cultivate the next generation of leaders and scholars need to identify individuals with some level of merit. After all, these individuals are more likely to become the type of alumni a college wants.

Why relative grades in most cases and tests only in some? Much of the current thinking seems to support grades over tests, and though a recent contradictory study deserves consideration, it focused on the Ivy League. For the majority of colleges, GPAs seem to be the better predictor of success and are less related to income. Additionally, there is a case to be made that encouraging people to focus on improving their test scores distracts from other, more meaningful forms of learning. Relative grades, how a student performs in the context of his or her environment, prevents individual schools from tinkering with requirements and can help kids who are at incredibly competitive (or incredibly bad) schools better stand out. For more selective schools, test scores may indeed be the better metric, as they seem to outperform grades in those environments.

Whichever metric one privileges, a question remains: If grades and tests are so good, why not use them only? There are two reasons. First, the number of people with good grades far exceeds the spots at many universities. Beyond a certain point, debating over a 3.95 or a 3.97 seems excessive, as there are many factors at play in explaining small variations. Second, there is a good case to be made that, while effective, grades can filter out some particularly exceptional individuals. Such is the tyranny of metrics, which, while helpful, are only imperfect measures for what they seek to capture.

The admissions essay allows people to display their ability to write, think, and communicate. Of course, it is unfortunately much more susceptible to wealth-related inequities than are grades, as the wealthy can and do pay for expensive college consultants to help them shape their prose. But essays also offer people a chance to showcase the merit that may not have shown up in their grades. Furthermore, it is arguably less susceptible to financial pressures than are clubs and other extracurriculars.

Merit is controversial, but it is real and is central to the functioning of our society. While there is no perfect way for colleges to measure it, let’s not pretend that they shouldn’t try.

Zev van Zanten is an economics and mathematics student at Duke University.