Despite concerns of efficacy and equity, standardized tests have been a key component in college applications for decades. However, with the post-COVID surge in holistic admissions policies, it’s becoming increasingly difficult for colleges to examine students through an objective lens. Instead of GPAs or test scores, qualitative factors such as essays and extracurriculars take precedence, opening the door for unethical practices.

If you’re active on Instagram or TikTok, you’ve likely encountered for-profit college counselors, charging a hefty fee for essay guidance and coveted ‘admissions secrets.’ Meanwhile, on the forum College Confidential, overbearing parents inquire about ways to maximize prospects for their children, often before they set foot in a high school classroom. Clearly, the college application system has transitioned from a contest of merit to a game of strategy. Some will do whatever it takes to get ahead.

Before the pandemic, terms like ‘demonstrated interest’ or ‘intellectual curiosity’ were not in the average student’s vocabulary. However, with the recent devaluation of standardized tests, students are increasingly assessed through subjective measures, and are compelled to portray themselves in an idealized light. While the ACT and SAT are not the most accurate benchmark of college-readiness, test-optional policies place an unnecessarily strong emphasis on personal qualities, encouraging dishonest behavior. Essays, which were once the gold standard for evaluating both ability and identity, are becoming obsolete due to rampant, undetectable AI use. Further, students have quickly realized that it’s easier to fabricate an award or extracurricular than a test score — and the holistic nature of college applications empowers them to do exactly that. Studies show that over 60% of college students submitted false information on their applications (American Enterprise Institute), entirely without consequence.

Moreover, I believe that the most devastating impact of holistic policies has been inflicted upon the minds of high schoolers. Students no longer view high school as a time of self-exploration, but instead as a proving ground, calculating every action for maximal utility and impact. Of course, there’s nothing wrong with crafting a resume — I’d be lying if I said that when I joined FBLA or Model UN, I didn’t at least consider how it would look on an application. However, when high school clubs are advertised as “resume builders” instead of learning opportunities, it’s evident that the ‘arms race’ of extracurriculars has gone too far. It’s easy to see why students fall into this mindset: with the overrepresentation of athletes and legacies at America’s top institutions, the unhooked applicant faces an uphill battle — and in many instances, a picture-perfect application is the only way to differentiate amongst a well-qualified group of applicants.

Clearly, this is an issue — but I only realized its magnitude when I experienced it firsthand. At FBLA Nationals, hundreds of representatives and ambassadors lined the Expo Hall, offering knick-knacks and souvenirs to anyone who would entertain their pitch. Out of curiosity (and a little boredom), I visited nearly every exhibition; shaking hands, scanning the occasional QR code, and repeating the process. These vapid encounters continued until my interest was piqued by a booth advertising something different — not a world-class education or lucrative career path, but a counseling service. Its rationale was clear: assist students in creating a passion-project that’s so good, Ivy League ad-coms will practically beg you to attend. 

I stood for a moment, pondering. The principle of manufacturing a passion project was antithetical to the name itself — and enough to leave me with a bitter taste in my mouth. That said, I don’t fault the CEO of the company, and I certainly don’t fault the intern manning the booth. Although highly disingenuous, a company that enables the exploitation of the holistic process is just a byproduct of the system that rewards such behavior.

In spite of this argument, I believe that many of the system’s flaws stem from us, the applicants. It’s human nature to pursue self interest, and when hundreds of thousands of students are fighting for a limited number of spots, unfair play is inevitable. It’s critical to stay true to yourself, even when the system rewards idealization, not individualism. So, as the application deadline approaches, I urge you to remember this: there’s nothing wrong with striving for perfection, so long as you don’t lose yourself in the process.