What Happens When All Subjects Assess for 40 Minutes in the Hall?
The Good Intentions Behind Standardised End-of-Year Exams
Secondary schools often require all subjects to conduct an end-of-year written exam, typically lasting 40 minutes so it can fit within a lesson (see Teacher Tapp data for the prevalence of this approach). The reasoning is straightforward: when every subject is assessed in the same way, it sends a signal that all subjects are equally important. It also encourages students to engage in revision, reinforcing learning across the curriculum. These are admirable goals.
However, as we discussed in our first post on the purpose of assessment, assessment does more than measure attainment—it also shapes what is valued in a subject. And here lies the problem: when the assessment format does not align with a subject’s core knowledge and skills, it can distort perceptions of what learning means in that subject.
What Happens When a Written Test Can't Measure What Matters?
In many subjects, a written exam simply cannot assess the full range of student ability:
In languages, speaking competency goes untested.
In design and technology, practical skills are ignored.
In music, neither composition nor performance can be observed.
In drama, acting is entirely absent.
In PE, physical ability is replaced by a pen-and-paper test.
The result? The exam forces a narrower definition of success in these subjects, one that fails to reflect what students actually need to learn. Assessment is always an act of compromise, as we’ve written about before, but this particular compromise is severe.
Why Do Schools Persist With This Model?
If this approach is so limiting, why do schools continue to enforce it? There are several reasons:
Practical constraints: Assessing practical competencies often requires one-on-one assessments, which are expensive and time-consuming.
Consistency across subjects: Some schools prioritise alignment across subjects over internal alignment within each subject.
The dominance of written subjects: Exams in the hall work reasonably well for the ‘big’ subjects with hierarchical knowledge structures like maths and science, meaning that leadership teams may see them as an acceptable default.
Efficiency: For the schools that go further, and ask all subjects to write a multiple-choice test, they are understandably motivated by keeping teacher workload down, even if they severely restrict what can be assessed in subjects like history and English (we’ll cover this in a later blog).
How Teachers Cope With the Constraints
For the most part, teachers adapt. Many simply ignore the assessment data from these tests, recognising that it does not reflect real attainment in their subject. Others find small ways to mitigate the mismatch.
One PE teacher we met saw an unexpected benefit: weaker physical performers, who often struggle in practical lessons, could experience success in the written test. But this raises an uncomfortable question—should PE assessment be designed to help students who excel at written tasks, rather than those for whom PE might be their only opportunity to feel successful? The conflict between assessment requirements and subject integrity is real, and teachers feel it acutely.
The Drama Teacher Who Outsmarted the System
Experienced teachers, however, often find ways to work around rigid assessment policies. Take the mature Head of Drama we met, who had already seen it all. When told his Year 8s must sit an end-of-year multiple-choice test, he remained unfazed. His solution? He wrote 30 multiple-choice questions with their answers, photocopied the sheet, and handed it out on the first day of term.
“This is your end-of-year exam,” he told his students. “We won’t cover it in class—just learn these answers at home in your own time.”
By doing so, he preserved what mattered: drama lessons that were focused on actual drama, rather than an ill-fitting written test. His story is a reminder that in complex systems like schools, teachers will often find ways to prioritise what truly matters for their students.
Final Thoughts
End-of-year assessments are meant to reinforce the meaning of attainment in each subject. However, when the assessment format is a poor fit, it can weaken rather than strengthen a subject’s integrity. All school assessment involves compromise, and while alignment is a useful starting point for policy, schools must consider whether enforcing consistency at the expense of meaningful subject progression could hinder student learning.
And if the assessment policy neglects the needs of certain subjects? Well, teachers will find their own ways to adapt.