The Supreme Court banned affirmative action, and universities claimed standardized tests would expand equity—so why does it all feel like a lie?
It must be said plainly: Our nation's commitment to justice and equity is amiss. We talk a good game about fairness and opportunity, but when you look closer, the systems we defend often serve to lock the doors they claim to open. Nowhere is this hypocrisy more glaring than at our colleges and universities.
After last summer’s Supreme Court ruling striking down race-conscious admissions, the nation’s most elite universities began scrambling to figure out who belongs at their tables. With race officially off the list of considerations, many schools rushed to bring back standardized tests like the SAT and ACT, arguing that these exams are somehow the “fairer” way to decide who gets in. Schools like Johns Hopkins and Dartmouth even claimed these tests would “level the playing field,” as if decades of evidence haven’t already proven otherwise.
This revival of trust in standardized testing isn’t just misguided—it’s dangerous. It props up the lie that these exams are neutral, ignoring the glaring truth: they’re rigged for the wealthy. The kids who can afford private tutors, prep courses, and test-taking strategies will always come out ahead. At the same time, students from underfunded schools and vulnerable communities are left in the dust. By doubling down on tests, universities aren’t fixing inequities—they’re reinforcing them. And if we don’t call it out, we risk letting these institutions—the universities and the courts—rewrite the story of fairness to benefit only the privileged.
The Myth of Meritocracy
Claims of meritocracy don’t hold up against the evidence. If the tests were equitable, we would not see such strong racial and economic divides in scores. According to Sacks (2007), “Standardized exams have become one of the most efficient ways to sort students by their social class” (p. 24). Decades of data support this, with studies consistently finding that students from wealthier backgrounds tend to perform better on standardized tests than their lower-income peers (Reardon, 2018). We also know that race matters. It is not the factor but, too often, the missing one.
One striking example from the College Board (2016) data reveals that students from families earning over $200,000 per year score an average of 388 points higher on the SAT than those from families making under $20,000. These families were less likely to be families of color. This disparity twinned by race and SES reflects how questions of access and opportunity are less about “merit” than intersections of a person’s social makeup. That is, such scores reveal more about the test-taker’s background (all of them) than about their potential for college success. As former admissions dean William Hiss (2014) put it, “These exams have proven far better at measuring privilege than at predicting college success” (p. 67). If tests are poor indicators of who should get into college, why do we continue to rely on them as the cornerstone of our admissions processes?
The easy answer lies in the deep-seated belief in merit—that standardized tests provide a simple, quantifiable measure of ability, making them attractive to institutions seeking an efficient way to evaluate thousands of applicants. The less easy answer is bias itself—the deep-seated belief that some are more deserving than others, are inherently better than others, and that success is a zero-sum game where only a select few (the superior) are entitled to the spoils.
This bias, particularly unexamined, often operates beneath the surface, shaping decisions and policies in ways that uphold existing hierarchies while appearing neutral or objective. By clinging to standardized tests as a cornerstone of admissions, institutions may unconsciously reinforce the very inequalities they claim to dismantle, privileging students who already have access to the best resources, networks, and opportunities the world has to offer.
This belief system perpetuates a narrow definition of merit—one that equates worthiness with wealth and privilege rather than recognizing the diverse talents, perspectives, and resilience that students from different backgrounds bring to the table. It assumes that those who score higher on standardized tests are inherently more capable, disregarding the structural advantages that enabled their success and the systemic barriers that hinder others.
While some might ignore the equity argument, instead suggesting that testing is needed to determine merit, the argument that standardized tests are “meritocratic,” as I have maintained, is deeply flawed. The meritocracy myth holds that success in admissions is based purely on ability and hard work, but this ignores systemic inequalities. As sociologist Shamus Khan (2011) notes, “When we think of meritocracy, we have to remember that it’s not just a process of selection; it’s a process of production” (p. 34). Those with resources to pay for test prep, private tutoring, and enriching academic experiences are essentially “produced” to excel within a system that favors them.
Indeed, race is also produced or, as sociologists put it, constructed. Thus, the production of race operates alongside the production of merit to reinforce existing hierarchies of power and privilege. Within the context of standardized testing, race is constructed through the systemic allocation of resources and opportunities, which disproportionately advantage certain racial groups while disadvantaging others. For example, predominantly white and affluent school districts often have access to better-funded schools, more experienced teachers, and advanced placement courses, all contributing to higher test scores. Conversely, students from Black, Latinx, and Indigenous communities are more likely to attend underfunded schools, face larger class sizes, and encounter curricula that are less aligned with standardized tests, further perpetuating racial disparities.
This dual production of race and merit reveals the fallacy of the meritocratic ideal. Standardized tests do not measure innate ability or potential but the accumulation of advantage. The very tools that claim to level the playing field instead replicate and amplify inequities, ensuring that those already privileged remain at the top, while those marginalized by race, class, and geography struggle to gain access to higher education.
Recent research has also contradicted the assumption that testing provides an objective metric for college readiness. A comprehensive study by Geiser and Santelices (2007) from the University of California demonstrated that high school GPA, rather than SAT scores, is a stronger predictor of college success, especially for underrepresented students. Yet, by reintroducing these tests, universities are reinstating a barrier that has long prevented vulnerable students from accessing higher education.
Research conducted by the Brookings Institution highlights how racial disparities persist in standardized testing—how Black and Latinx students consistently score lower than their White and Asian counterparts (Reardon, 2018), underscoring how these tests perpetuate existing inequalities. As Ibram X. Kendi (2020) points out, “Standardized tests have become the most effective racist weapon ever devised to objectively degrade Black minds and legally exclude their bodies” (p. 99). The language of meritocracy may sound fair, but it conceals a deeper, more entrenched bias that benefits those already holding social and economic power.
Ultimately, the insistence on testing as a marker of “merit” ignores how these instruments fail those our society has already failed. If we are serious about equity in education, we must question not only the tests themselves but also the systems of production that sustain their inequities. Only then can we begin dismantling the structural barriers that deny so many students the opportunity to succeed.
Data-Driven Decisions or Ideological Choices?
It has become all too clear now that the tests are not the only tool used in the larger ideological campaign against the vulnerable. Universities often claim that their return to standardized testing is a data-driven choice. Johns Hopkins, for example, frames the SAT as an “important predictive metric” for student success, suggesting that the absence of such requirements may have discouraged underrepresented applicants from submitting scores that could have reflected their academic abilities. But how data is interpreted can reveal ideological motivations more than objective truths.
For instance, Carnevale, Schmidt, and Strohl (2020) argue in The Merit Myth that many institutions use data selectively to justify practices that align with long-standing exclusionary ideologies, suggesting that standardized testing is as much a cultural preference as it is a metric of academic readiness. As Carnevale et al. (2020) observe, “We’re not going to solve inequality by simply widening the gates; we need to rethink the gates themselves” (p. 89). And this is precisely what the U.S. Supreme Court chose not to do in its recent ruling against affirmative action.
Make no mistake: we are in the midst of a radical transition from any sound commitment this country once boasted about social equity to a curious rejection of it. And sadly, instead of opening doors, what is now normal is the speed at which we see the doors of opportunity shut. Indeed, the Supreme Court’s decision against affirmative action is but a key example, as it represents a chain of events marking our monumental step backward in the push for educational equity.
For years, race-conscious admissions have been a crucial means of broadening access for students from underrepresented backgrounds. Without this tool, many universities are now seeing declines in the diversity of their student bodies, confirming what we’ve long known about the importance of these policies. When Michigan banned affirmative action in 2006, for example, Black undergraduate enrollment at the University of Michigan fell from 7 percent to 4 percent by 2021, despite costly outreach efforts (Garces, 2012).
Similarly, the University of California, after banning affirmative action with Proposition 209 in 1996, saw immediate and substantial declines in Black, Latinx, and Native American enrollments. Over two decades later, despite pouring over half a billion dollars into race-neutral outreach programs, the UC system has yet to recover its previous diversity levels (Bleemer, 2021). This trend reveals the consequences of removing tools explicitly designed to counteract inequality while embracing tools, like standardized tests, that we know reinforce inequality.
Early reports following the Supreme Court ruling show similar patterns across the country. MIT, for example, reported an 8-point drop in Black student enrollment in the class of 2028, while enrollment of Asian American students increased by 6 percentage points (Narea, 2024). Such shifts underline the reality: By removing one of the most effective tools for promoting diversity and doubling down on tools that reinforce inequity, we’re watching universities slip back into exclusionary patterns that affirmative action and decades of justice efforts had helped to mitigate.
What’s truly at stake here is not just college access. It’s the preservation of a structure that has long privileged certain groups over others. When universities choose to rely on standardized tests—despite the evidence of their inequitable impact—they send a clear message about who “deserves” to be in these spaces. Through these mechanisms, higher education becomes less a path for talent and more a fortress for privilege. As Carnevale et al. (2020) note, “Standardized testing and legacy admissions sustain the college gates, ensuring they are closed to most, even as they open wide for the fortunate few” (p. 58).
If higher education is to serve as an engine for social mobility, we must confront the systemic barriers embedded within its admissions processes. Reintroducing standardized tests at elite institutions, coupled with eliminating affirmative action, isn’t a return to “rigor.” It’s a regression to an era when race and class silently determined who was welcomed and who was excluded.
Reimagining Access: Beyond the Gate
The choice we face today is more than whether to keep the gate slightly open or closed. It’s whether we are willing to dismantle the gate altogether.
This isn’t just about higher education, though. Indeed, higher education cannot continue to serve as a tool for reproducing privilege. It is about all of us concerned about the state of equity in education because, as a country, we are signaling an apathy toward equity by reintroducing and allowing exclusionary practices like standardized testing, eliminating affirmative action, and so on to press forward.
What does this mean? It means the inequities we permit in education don’t just stop at the classroom door. They spill over into every corner of society, shaping who gets to succeed and who is left behind. Education is not just about learning—it’s about access, mobility, and the ability to dream beyond the constraints of the present. When we allow inequities in education to persist, we reinforce a cycle of injustice that determines who gets to buy a home and who doesn’t, who gets to work and who doesn’t, who is incarcerated and who is not, who lives and who dies.
These inequities ripple back to our very neighborhoods—deciding which ones will thrive and which will dwindle. They dictate the futures of families, communities, and, ultimately, the nation itself. Education is supposed to be an equalizer, but when it becomes a tool for maintaining hierarchy, it fractures the promises of the American Dream, dividing them unevenly between the privileged and the vulnerable.
This isn’t just about individual opportunity, though; it’s about our collective future. Like it or not, we all have stakes in what happens next. Will we continue to accept a society split along lines of privilege, where the few flourish at the expense of the many? Or will we take the necessary steps to dismantle these inequities and build something better? If we fail to act, the cost won’t just be measured in the lost opportunities of today—it will be carried by our children and our children’s children tomorrow, who will inherit a world we failed to fix.
To truly serve as a space of opportunity, how might we position all facets of education as sites of promise—where even our colleges and universities become willing to critically evaluate which admissions practices serve equitable ends and which merely uphold the status quo? Until we answer this question, the U.S. will continue to witness an education system that reflects our nation’s demons, one that reinforces social stratification and leaves vulnerable students to play an endless game of musical chairs, where seats are few and the odds are stacked against them. As the data continues to pour in, the question remains: who gets in, or, worse yet, who gets left out?
References
Bleemer, Z. (2021). Affirmative action, mismatch, and economic mobility after California’s Proposition 209. The Quarterly Journal of Economics, 136(3), 1567–1631.
Carnevale, A. P., Schmidt, P., & Strohl, J. (2020). The merit myth: How our colleges favor the rich and divide America. The New Press.
College Board. (2016). SAT performance statistics. Retrieved from [https://www.collegeboard.org].
Garces, L. M. (2012). Racial diversity, legitimacy, and the citizenry: The impact of affirmative action bans on graduate student enrollment in the fields of science and engineering. The Review of Higher Education, 36(1), 93-132.
Geiser, S., & Santelices, M. V. (2007). Validity of high-school grades in predicting student success beyond the freshman year: High-school record vs. standardized tests as indicators of four-year college outcomes. Center for Studies in Higher Education.
Hiss, W. C. (2014). Defining promise: Optional standardized testing policies in American college and university admissions. The National Association for College Admission Counseling.
Khan, S. (2011). Privilege: The making of an adolescent elite at St. Paul’s School. Princeton University Press.
Narea, N. (2024). The impact of the Supreme Court’s reversal of affirmative action, explained in one chart. Vox.
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Suggested citation: Kirkland, D.E. (2024). Who Gets In: The New Politics of College Admissions. forwardED Perspectives, https://www.forward-ed.com/post/who-gets-in-the-new-politics-of-college-admissions.
David E. Kirkland, PhD, is the founder and CEO of forwardED. He is a nationally renowned scholar of education equity and author of Pedagogy of the Black Child. He can be reached via email at: david@forward-ed.com.
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