By Gio Arteaga
The SAT has long been a centerpiece of college admissions, presented as a key measure of academic readiness. The SAT has been treated as a golden ticket to college. Get a high score, and your dream school might just send that acceptance letter. But here’s the thing: the SAT isn’t as fair or meaningful as it’s often made out to be. In fact, it’s been raising eyebrows for years, and after COVID-19, its flaws are harder to ignore than ever.
Even before the pandemic, the SAT faced criticism for inequality with the economical integrity of the test. The costs associated with the test aren’t small—not just the registration fees but the extensive preparation materials and tutoring services often required to achieve competitive scores. For many families across the US, the price of private tutors and prep courses can reach hundreds or even thousands of dollars. This again creates an uneven playing field within the SAT system where students from wealthier backgrounds have resources that those from low-income families simply dont.
As a high school junior myself navigating and being introduced to the admissions process, I haven’t taken the SAT yet. But I’ve already noticed how challenging it is to feel prepared without spending hundreds of dollars on prep materials and tutoring, and the materials that are free are limited and aren’t accurate to the actual test content. The rising costs of these services make it difficult to secure the resources needed to feel confident about performing well. This financial barrier highlights a systemic issue and question: does the SAT measure academic potential in college? Or access to resources.
The pandemic amplified these concerns. As testing centers closed and school systems scrambled to adjust to online learning, many students couldn’t take the SAT at all. Those who could often faced additional challenges, including canceled test dates and inconsistent access to online preparation tools. In response, many colleges shifted to test-optional policies, choosing to evaluate applicants without requiring standardized test scores.
This shift revealed something significant: colleges could assess students more holistically without relying on the SAT. Admissions officers turned their attention to essays, recommendations, and extracurricular involvement to evaluate applicants, placing greater emphasis on a student’s overall character and achievements. At the same time, the pandemic underscored the inequities of standardized testing. While some students managed to access private tutoring and take the test multiple times, others lacked the resources to prepare or even register for a single sitting. This deepened the already significant divide between students with and without financial advantages.
As colleges continue to refine their admissions processes, it is worth considering whether the SAT still holds value in its current form. Or should the “aptitude test” be remodeled to adapt to the students’ specific intelligences?
