Leadership's Letter
Studies
Leadership's Letter
Studies
Since the establishment of exams in China in 605, they have cast quite a pall over those who have had to undertake them. And, worse still, they have pretty much been unavoidable - by the late 19th century, exams became de rigour across much of the western world. Even as you see the word exam, you may feel a little chill or, perhaps, a slight tightness in the shoulders. I know I do!
Be assured you are not alone in feeling this rising tension. Even those in high office feel an exam’s weight, an exam’s sternness, an exam’s exactitude. One such person is David Cameron, former British Prime Minister and scholar par excellence at Oxford University.
Cameron was often accused of living a privileged existence. Naysayers (of which there were many!) argued that the easy, bucolic existence of his youth prevented him from experiencing the vicissitudes that are part of the human experience for all of us. Cameron, wisely, never attempted to rebut this accusation. However, internally, he cited the completion of exams as an instrument to equip himself with the skills to manage problems and push through challenge. He argues that succeeding in exams is conquering unexceptional but meaningful adversity. Accordingly, he posits that successfully completing exams helps when real peril and difficultly is faced, as we must as we go about our lives.
This is a substantive point. To be clear, exams have dual function - they are both academic challenge but also a harbinger for future stresses and travails. If you succeed at them – get the very best out of yourself in preparation and performance – you are intellectually more robust but also strengthened in terms of character. Without wishing to state the obvious, these are enormous benefits in the pursuit of a meaningful life.
Cameron started to stress about his final university exams seven weeks out. He had five exams in total. All were worth 100%. He got straight to work. He set himself apotheotic expectations. He was ruthless with his time management. He timed how long he would spend on preparations each night. He started each block of study at the exact time he said he would and stropped at the exact time he said he would. He focused on output more than input. To provide example of this, output is completing a maths problem, writing down quotes from a text, writing a definition of economic theory. Output often starts with a blank page and ends up filled with knowledge – your knowledge. Input, the distinct poorer cousin, is reading notes or watching clips. It is passivity compared to assertiveness; pleather when compared with leather; fake work compared to real work. For Cameron, imbued by high expectations, an early start, time management and, crucially, a commitment to output, saw obtuse concepts became knowledge and skills solidified. What was previously thought as insurmountable was being scaled, one step at a time.
Cameron received a first (High Distinction in our parlance) in every subject and a first for his degree. Clearly, he was a formidable intellect but he was also very good at the mechanics of being a student.
I wish all students the very best in the upcoming examination period!
Chris Pye
Dean of Studies