University Admissions, Meritocracy, and Individualism

In the U.S., university admission largely prioritizes ‘holistic’ review, considering the ‘whole person’ of the applicant. This is why most universities require letters of recommendations, personal essays, or descriptions of leadership roles and extracurricular involvement. Further, the U.S. admissions system seeks to contextualize the applicant, understanding their achievements with regards to their background— for example, a student who comes from hardship but performs far above expected might be favored over a student who comes from privilege who, while high-achieving, performs as expected from someone in their position. Of course, this is the ideal—college admissions still privilege white, upper-class students—but the opportunity for students to contextualize their application suggests that universities care about something more than pure academic achievement. 

In Spain, conversely, admission is determined purely based on academic achievement. For many in the U.S., specifically opponents of movements like affirmative action, this might seem like a fairer system. And indeed, in conversations with my students, they’ve heavily pushed back against the idea of holistic admissions. In their view, universities are primarily an academic institution, so the criteria for admission should be purely academic. Their debates about fairness in college admissions usually center around assessment not being standardized enough. For example, many complain that students in the province of Andalucia, in the south, have it easier in college admissions because their regional PAU exam is allegedly easier, and since they don’t have a regional language as a mandatory subject, they can ostensibly devote more time to their other subjects, earning higher grades and thus receiving better chances at college admissions. Further, private schools are seen as “pay to pass,” meaning students attend private schools to get good grades to gain admission to university. However, their ideal solutions to these problems don’t require holistic admissions, they require making education and assessment more standardized across the country. 

 

I think this difference in holistic vs. standardized approach to college admissions stems from different cultural and institutional factors that differ between the U.S. and Spain. In other words, I think those Americans who would view the Spanish system as more meritocratic and thus more just are missing major factors that make the Spanish system unfit for the U.S., and the U.S. system unfit for Spain.

 

First, by and large, the quality of education in Spanish public schools does not differ between regions as it does in the U.S. Of course, as I just stated, the debate that certain regions have it ‘easier’ because they have one less core subject is salient, but the actual quality of education doesn’t differ so much. In my opinion, this is because in Spain, educational funding is distributed equally by the national government, meaning, the quality of education will not differ in a poor region vs. a rich region just because of the region’s wealth. In the U.S., this does happen. Schools are often funded by local property taxes, so quality of education can vary based on the wealth of one’s neighborhood, not just their city or state. So, in Spain, perhaps it might be more true that a standardized test is representative of a student’s talents or abilities, irrespective of their background, while in the U.S. standardized tests often tend to reproduce differences in class or race. This is to say, the Spanish system of standardized college admissions, if it were implemented in the U.S., would exacerbate disadvantages based on class and race due to the broad variety in quality of education across different neighborhoods.

 

Secondly, in Spain, as discussed earlier, the standardized tests are prepared for in school. The content that will appear on the standardized test is what is studied at school. So ideally, a student must only attend class and study to prepare for the college admissions test. In the U.S., preparation for college admissions tests largely occurs outside of school. Of course, the test is meant to be an aptitude test that measures skills like reading comprehension and mathematical reasoning, but in reality, wealthy students can afford specialized tutoring that prepares them specifically for the test. This is why many universities are now de-emphasizing the SAT and ACT in admissions, because high-performance on these tests directly tracks socioeconomic status. So, college admissions based solely on grades and test scores would privilege wealthy students even more than it already does. Of course, in Spain, students that come from wealthy families can pay more for private academies and tutoring that help boost their grades and consequently their chances at admission, but the playing field begins a lot more even than it does in the U.S. 

 

Importantly, I think that the cultural role of universities also plays an important part in how admissions are structured——that in the U.S. universities are seen as cultural institutions in addition to academic ones, and that we have a far more robust hierarchy of college rankings than there is in Spain. The average university student in the U.S. is often more immersed in the community of the university than their Spanish counterpart: it’s often required to live in university housing, most join campus organizations, attend school sporting events, make their friend groups through the university, and of course usually have a sense of ‘school pride.’ Often, students can have a fully enriching social life based solely around the university. 

 

In Spain, I’ve been told that this experience is uniquely American—Spanish universities are chiefly a site of academic study. Many Spaniards live at home, commute to school, and maintain the friend groups they’ve made in instituto or as a kid. They don’t necessarily have ‘school pride’ in the same way we do in the U.S. or feel intense loyalty to the institution once they graduate. I think in the U.S. this warrants a more holistic review of applicants. Admission officers are, of course, worried about whether students can succeed academically at schools, but at the same time, they are also looking for students who will be involved in social life at the school and will become committed alumni once they graduate. They’re looking for bright students who are also athletes, artists, and community organizers—and people with diverse perspectives to make the community richer and livelier. These considerations are largely irrelevant to an institution that is almost purely academic. Whether or not a candidate for a medicine program at a Spanish university is also an athlete is just not important. 

 

The U.S. obsession with college rankings also plays into this distinction. Any Ivy League school could fill multiple freshman classes with academically qualified students with a near 4.0 GPA and perfect on the ACT. And a large portion of these high performing students will apply to these Ivy League schools. Meaning, the most selective schools in the U.S. cannot consider only academic qualifications—they have the privilege of considering what type of community member a student will be, from a pool of thousands of academically gifted students. This presents an interesting question though about who deserves a spot at these top schools. In Spain, the admissions system is primarily based on “who deserves a spot” because they have quantitative metrics to see who performed better (even if this comes down to a decimal point distinguishing students.) 

 

But in the U.S., any student with a 4.0 and a 36 on the ACT ostensibly ‘deserves’ a spot at Harvard because they’ve demonstrated the academic excellence befitting to the school. But of course, Harvard cannot admit all the ‘deserving’ students. They can choose to craft their class as they please, preferencing diverse perspectives, backgrounds, and talents. So, for example, a qualified student applying from a region like the Northeast in a pocket of other highly qualified students, perhaps they may be rejected so that the incoming freshman year class doesn’t overrepresent one specific region. It’s tough luck for the student, but that’s the privilege that Harvard has. Of course, this is complicated in the U.S. when we automatically associate attendance at a top college as evidence of superiority, when admission is often based on forces outside of one’s control. 

 

In Spain, there doesn’t exist this same obsession with school rankings. While some programs are more competitive or might carry social prestige, the air of superiority associated with these ‘top’ programs doesn’t rival that of the U.S. I find this interesting because ostensibly students in Spain have a greater claim to feelings of superiority-- their grades and hard work directly earned them a place in the program. In the U.S. at the most selective schools, you’re first being judged for your academic viability, but then your admission is determined by what diverse perspective you might bring to your incoming class based on your background or interests. Even so, in the U.S., admission into top universities often produces a feeling of superiority and a feeling that you earned your place there and therefore deserve it. But in fact, when we compare it with a different system like Spain, the idea that you deserve your place in a top university holds far less water in the U.S. than it does in Spain. 

 

I recently read a book called “The Tyranny of Merit,” by political theorist Michael Sandel, and he theorized that our obsession with university attendance along with the social prestige associated with it, and the idea that admission to these institutions are the product of hard work and talent, rather than luck or circumstance, create a sense of superiority in the ‘winners’ and resentment among the ‘losers.’ In Spain, however, I don’t think this same dynamic happens, even though they have a university admissions system that many would say is more ‘meritocratic’ than that of the USA. If a student is sufficiently academically high performing compared to their peers, then they deserve a spot in their desired program. But the ‘meritocratic hubris’ that Sandel describes, the feeling that one has earned their success based on their individual work ethic and talent, isn’t as strong as it is in the U.S., even though, I think, U.S. students have an even weaker claim to ‘deserving’ a place at a top university. 

 

I think this might boil down to a general cultural divide over individualism—in the U.S. we tend to mythologize the individual as fully self-sufficient and in control of its fate, disregarding the role of the community in shaping the individual and contributing to their success. Spain is a bit more community oriented and would be less permissive of an individuality that lets the individual see himself as fully responsible for his success. In other words, in the U.S. we’ve maintained the illusion that admission into these top colleges is purely the result of individual work, and is thus deserved, even though often it’s due to factors outside of one's control. 

 

Perhaps, then, it’s not a surprise that Spain and the U.S. have developed different standards of admission criteria. Holistic admissions promise to consider the ‘whole person’ of the student, who they are as a unique and special individual. Standardized admissions instead consider the academic qualities of the student rather than their whole self, and only considers them in relation to how their scores measure up against those of their peers. 

 

I think this could be part of the reason as to why we see that “meritocratic hubris” so strongly in the U.S. and not in Spain. The college admissions application of a student in the U.S. is meant to represent who they are as a person—they have extracurriculars to represent their varied and deep interests, recommendations to attest to their character, and a personal essay to share their values and distinctive ‘voice.’ So, often, admission can feel like a judgement or validation of an individual’s identity. Admission to a selective college can make one feel like they were not just a better student than their peers, but a more interesting, well-rounded, and more deserving person. And the inverse effect is that denial from these colleges can make one feel like they failed on a personal level. If we maintain the illusion that admission is purely meritocratic, and thus deserved, then it becomes possible to justify one’s admission or rejection to a university with the type of person someone is. Meaning, if a student gets into a top university, then they deserve it, not just for their academic achievement, but for who they are as a person. Psychologically, this creates a more profound effect on the ego than being judged solely on one’s academic prowess, as it is in Spain. Of course, this effect on the ego is enabled by our obsession with college rankings in the U.S.—the individual’s identity is inflated or deflated insofar as it’s a desirable or prestigious university that’s accepting or rejecting them. But I think that holistic criteria add another layer that can exacerbate the feelings of self-worth, in both directions, that are now inherent to the U.S. college admissions process.

 

In this post I’ve hoped to untangle some of the cultural forces behind the seemingly surface level difference between college admissions processes between the U.S. and Spain and connect it to broader themes such as individualism, meritocracy, and who deserves what. From Spain, the U.S. can learn perhaps that our system isn’t as meritocratic as we might want to believe, and that ‘what college you got into’ doesn’t have to be a statement about the worth of an individual.