Michigan Thinks Grades Are the Problem

The University of Michigan plans to exclude first-semester letter grades from students’ transcripts to “curb the mental health crisis.” What would seem like a mundane university-level grading change has become a cultural touchpoint. Early-morning talk shows, national to local outlets—everyone seems to have a reaction.

The grading policy is expected to go into effect in fall 2027 in the College of Literature, Science, and the Arts, the largest school at the university. Freshmen will still know what grades they received internally, but those grades won’t count toward their overall GPA. Everyone will be required to receive pass/no credit because “covering an individual’s grades will inadvertently become equated with them not doing well in a class.”

Although covered grading appeals to a very real concern about the difficult transition year, it is a risky policy with an unremarkable track record. 

History of Covered Grading

Covered, or shadow, grading is when colleges share freshmen’s letter grades with students internally but exclude them from transcripts. The rationale for this kind of policy has historically been to ease the stress that high-achieving students place on themselves when attending unusually rigorous schools.

Michigan would join a small club of universities that have this unusual policy. Other prominent universities include MIT, Caltech, and Wellesley. Schools that adopted these policies mostly did so in the 1960s and 1970s, with Caltech and MIT as early adopters. Caltech faculty hoped that students would learn to “substitute more mature and substantial motives for work than the threat of a low GPA or the status of a high one.”

Does Covered Grading Work?

Covered grading may reduce stress and encourage students to try courses they otherwise would have avoided. Michigan has indicated that it would evaluate its initiative largely on these measures. But the question shouldn’t just be whether covered grading is liked by students or whether it reduces stress. A policy can achieve its immediate aims while creating more serious problems elsewhere.

That’s exactly what Johns Hopkins learned years earlier. JHU officially discontinued its policy in fall 2017, but the discussion was far from new. In 2008, John Bader, the associate dean of undergraduate education at the time, said the policy was “creating all kinds of collateral damage that was not really intended.” Faculty members found it “delay[ed] development of study skills and adaptation to college-level work,” “negatively impact[ed] students who perform well,” and was “not well-received by graduate schools and potential employers.” 

One student even described in great detail how she succumbed to her worst instincts under covered grading: “I probably put in no more than 30 to 40 hours of real work over the course of the first semester. In comparison, I drank 30 to 40 alcoholic beverages per week.”

Princeton, which was looking to address the freshmen adjustment problem, floated the idea of covered grading in a 2014 report. Learning from JHU’s experience, Princeton not only “foresaw several academic complications,” but it also concluded that a simple grading policy change likely wouldn’t solve the complex issue of the freshmen year transition.

LSA Dean Rosario Ceballo recently defended U-M’s policy in an Inside Higher Ed op-ed, arguing that grade covering encourages students to “engage in true intellectual exploration,” to “embrace the joy of learning,” and to tackle difficult subjects. Her piece relies on the purported benefits at Wellesley.

In the same survey cited by Ceballo, Wellesley students described covered grading in less idealistic terms:

“To me it seemed like instead of creating a less stressful environment where students focused a lot more on simply learning and improving [,] shadow grading basically functioned as a ‘cop-out.’”

“Though it helps students stay in challenging classes I also think it encourages students not to put in their best effort as they know whatever they obtain does not count hence they strive for mediocrity instead of excellence”

“Although I appreciate the lack of stress and freedom I had to discover other non-academic club activities I feel like I already developed some bad [h]abits in terms of work ethic”

Wellesley is also the subject of one of the rare causal studies evaluating covered grading. The paper found that grades declined by 23% of a standard deviation, tracing the decline to reduced student effort. Although students were more likely to take harder STEM courses under covered grading, students didn’t persist in those fields after the policy expired. 

A possible explanation is that students used the policy to get hard courses out of the way rather than pursuing them for the love of learning. Indeed, one university-administered survey of faculty members, who were primarily opposed to the policy, found that they believed students were “inclined to game course selection, shifting required STEM courses into the first semester.” 

The limited research along with student feedback shows the policy presents more harm than good. And even if the policy is popular among students (can we blame them?), it may just encourage students to engage in shortsighted preferences that are destructive to their well-being.

“But What About MIT?”

One reply against criticisms of covered grading has been to bring up MIT’s policy. If covered grades have worked with seemingly little drawbacks at MIT for decades, then why not U-M?

The durability of covered grading at MIT might say more about the school’s uniqueness rather than something generally applicable to the policy.

Many would consider Johns Hopkins a tough place. But even Bader recognized that Hopkins wasn’t some kind of “academic boot camp…We’re a lot more like University of Chicago or Stanford than we are like Cal Tech and MIT.” And the seemingly small differences in approach at top universities may make covered grading a delicate policy that requires a very specific academic culture, institutional mission, and student body.

Some students who are exceptionally talented still face undue pressure to perform and could benefit from an incentive to relax and embrace imperfections. But according to Dartmouth economist Paul Novosad on X, other kinds of students may see covered grading as a “signal that first year is 100% parties and drinking.”

Already, there are differences that emerge between MIT and U-M. When MIT adopted its policy in 1968, it required standardized tests in admissions. Michigan currently doesn’t. That certainly could affect the type of students that are admitted. At MIT, students may struggle because the institution is exceptionally demanding. But in the context of U-M’s relaxed admissions policies, some struggling students are likely unprepared for the demands of the institution.

Where Covered Grading Will Lead 

Covered grading did not start as an initiative to eliminate the role of grades altogether. But many supporters of the policy today view it as a vehicle for abolishing grades. To these people, the problems of grade inflation and stress around grades could be solved if grades stopped having stakes.

U-M’s policy is not all that different. Covered grading was proposed as part of a larger effort to radically rethink the role of grades in students’ first two years. And this wasn’t so much about relieving the stress of high performers as it was about accommodating low performers.

If universities are genuinely concerned that students are avoiding difficult courses to protect their GPAs, they should reward academic-risk taking. In my recent Manhattan Institute report, I propose universities add an “inflation-adjusted GPA” on transcripts. One of the nice side effects of this policy is that students who perform well in notoriously difficult classes will receive a boost.

It’s also imperative that universities have admissions practices that accurately identify college readiness among students. Students who meet the standards should not be excluded or short-changed from a quality education.

Covered grading offers an appealing short-cut. But it doesn’t prepare students for the next step. More importantly, it devalues the academic reputation of U-M, and all other universities that embrace it.

Neetu Arnold is a Paulson Policy Analyst at the Manhattan Institute. Follow her on X @neetu_arnold.