Scantron State of Mind: Are we measuring potential or missing it?

By Eliza Consuelo Bellones

This weekend, thousands of students will take their shot at what many consider the most prestigious university in the country, marking the start of entrance exam season in the Philippines. While I will not be one of them, many of my closest friends will be. I have watched them pore over review materials, spend hours in prep classes, and carry the weight of expectations that one exam could decide their future. I have nothing but admiration for their discipline, and for the system’s intent to create fairness through a single test. But having witnessed it firsthand, I cannot help but ask: Do standardized tests truly measure potential, or miss more than they capture?

Perhaps I speak from a slightly biased perspective; I have personally never been the best at standardized examinations. My strengths have always concentrated in written and verbal communication, a trait that has proven useful in my choice to undertake the International Baccalaureate Diploma Program. As I prepare to enter my final year in the program, I carry certain key takeaways: that learning should be holistic, that intelligence comes in many forms, and that education is about reflection, not recall. These beliefs do not make me opposed to entrance exams—in fact, I understand their purpose. But I do believe we need to examine the outsized role they play in defining opportunity.

When so much rides on one test, we risk mistaking performance for potential. We overlook those whose brilliance doesn’t translate into multiple-choice answers. And we send a message: that success in education must follow a narrow, testable path that may not serve the complexity of a student’s talents, nor the needs of our country’s future.

This isn’t to say that we should do away with entrance exams entirely. In a country with limited slots and resources, standardized testing offers one way to manage the overwhelming demand for quality higher education. But the danger lies in letting it be the only way. When test scores are treated as the ultimate marker of intelligence and worth, we flatten the many ways through which students can excel.

What would a better—yet realistic—system look like? It doesn’t have to be radical. In fact, some universities in the Philippines are already implementing blended approaches, considering interviews, high school performance, personal essays, and the like alongside test scores. These don’t eliminate the exam; they simply acknowledge that a single number cannot capture the full picture of a person’s potential.

Incorporating more holistic admissions measures won’t fix educational inequality overnight. Some students will still have greater access to prep courses, high-level extracurriculars, and polished applications. But broadening the criteria at least allows for multiple pathways to be seen and validated. It tells students that there are so many other ways to be “smart.”

It also sends an important message to the broader public—that education should be about more than jumping through hoops. It should be about growing as a thinker, a citizen, and a human being. In my Theory of Knowledge class, we are constantly asked this question: How do we know what we know? It’s a deceptively simple prompt that I return to almost every day. I’ve examined it through what feels like hundreds of lenses, and this is my takeaway: Knowledge is not the accumulation of facts. It is the ongoing process of examining our assumptions, challenging our perspectives, and staying open to complexity.

I’ve grown to be of the belief that standardized testing takes away from this richness. It rewards certainty over curiosity, speed over depth, and uniformity over creativity. This is not a fault of the students—or anyone, for that matter. It’s simply a reflection of the system. When success is reduced to a score, we risk narrowing not just what we learn, but how we value learning itself. We begin to see education as a competition, rather than a process of discovery. And in doing so, we may unintentionally leave behind the very thinkers, leaders, and problem-solvers we most need.

I say all this not as someone looking down on the current system, but as someone who cares deeply about it. I want to live in a country where students feel seen in all their different forms of brilliance, not reduced to a number or defined by a weekend in an exam hall. I want an education system that nurtures possibility, not pressure.

So, to everyone taking the tests this season: I wish you clarity, focus, and calm. But I also wish for a future where one’s fate isn’t tethered to a score—and where every student, test-taker or not, is given the chance to be seen in full.