JAPANESE TERTIARY EDUCATION
Japanese teenagers, then, apply to take an entrance examination for admission into
a university or junior college. The entrance system into these universities and
colleges in Japan has been described as a hierarchical system of “examination hell”
(juken jigoku) by more than one critic (Cutts 1997; Yoneyama 1999). Families
invest enormous resources, both in time and money, for students to cram for the
tests. In nearly one-third of these cases, students even devote a year or two after
high school to further prepare to sit the examination yet again, often receiving
intense instruction at preparatory schools designed to help them cram for these
tests.
However, to what extent this “hell” affects the entire
university-bound student
population is open to considerable debate. Hood points out that the predominant
assumption that almost all Japanese students have to endure an examination hell is
both “over-hyped” (Hood 2001a, p. 7) and “was probably never correct and
certainly does not apply now” (Hood 2001b, p. 166). The obvious reason is that as
in Euro-American HE systems, the pressure on students taking entrance
examinations is directly proportional to the prestige of the institution to which they
are applying (Lee-Cunin 2004, 2005). After helping to prepare and administer
entrance exams and interview questions for the selection of three cohorts of
incoming freshman at EUC, I must admit that my data is supportive of Hood’s
analysis. The majority of entrance exam takers are not worried about getting in to a
university as much as which university. EUC entrants are not shooting for the top
universities, so the students I have spoken with assure me that they felt no exam
hell type of pressure. This EUC-type group is statistically the largest group of
exam takers.
Nonetheless, in a competitive atmosphere, these tests for entrance into
universities are given great importance by students, parents, institutions, and the
general public. Considering the authority these university examinations hold in
Japanese society, as well as the “washback” effect they have in influencing rote
memorization pedagogical strategies in secondary schools, in my experience a
commensurate assessment of the quality of the tests themselves is usually lacking
(Poole 2003a). Each university in Japan develops and administers an in-house
entrance examination, and the entrance test developers themselves, as well as the
institutions where they are employed, are especially hesitant to offer public data
that would objectively evaluate these numerous admissions examinations. My
involvement in test development has been with the foreign language portion of the
exams—admissions examinations include a compulsory English proficiency
subtest, although English as a Foreign Language (EFL) is not officially a state-
required subject at primary, secondary, or tertiary schools in Japan. Partly because
of this university entrance examination focus on English, while there is only a
small, albeit growing (Aspinall 2005), number of students exposed to language
classes in primary school, over 10 million 12- to 18-year-olds, and another million
or so university students, have no choice but to study English.
Since universities in Japan do not normally have an American-style admissions
office, the Admissions Committee, a group of appointed faculty, is responsible for
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CHAPTER 1
the PR and recruiting process. At EUC all fifty-nine full-time faculty members are
expected to support this committee and must be present to administer the
examinations during the exam season in January and February. The English portion
of these examinations (of which I have firsthand knowledge) is developed from
scratch in-house every year by the entire staff of six foreign-language professors.
The content of the language examination is for the most part determined
practically. Individual professors are very conscious of completing the onerous task
of test writing as swiftly and painlessly as possible. For this reason, previous
examinations are used as models, and only slight modifications are made year to
year. It is no surprise that, since there is no resident testing “expert” and nothing
but very rudimentary knowledge of language assessment, the full-time professors
among the staff at EUC hold very little discussion regarding either communicative
language testing methodology
or exam quality. There is, however, much discussion
and concern for “saving face,” i.e.,
avoiding mistakes in clarity, grammar, spelling,
and typing mistakes. There is also tremendous care taken with maintaining the
security of the tests; the drafts are kept under lock and key as they go through the
various proofreading processes over the course of three months, from October to
December (cf. Aspinall 2005; Poole 2003a).
The perception of an exam hell is closely tied to the ideal of an “educationally
credentialized society” (gakureki shakai), or a society that places utmost
importance on a person’s educational background, particularly where they studied
rather than what they studied, a “diploma disease” of sorts (Dore 1976). In many
cases, the extraordinary emphasis on ranking colleges and universities has led to a
brand-name sensitivity that may affect a person for his/her entire life. Observers
argue, and the public knows, that one effect of a credentialized society is the
phenomenon of exam hell. The pressure to pass high-stake exams is felt by many
young adults in Japan (as well as South Korea, Taiwan, Singapore, and other
OECD countries), and some critics argue this pressure is great even when applying
to second- or third-rate “low-status” schools such as EUC (McVeigh 2001, p. 31).
Most teenagers are expected to prove their exam-taking talent on these fact-
oriented examinations, even though they are rarely pushed to excel academically
once they have matriculated at a college or university (McVeigh 1997). Another of
the negative aspects of credentialization, as discussed in the literature, is that
entrance into a university is often equated with passing the test. This is partly true
since, though admissions procedures are becoming more creative, the majority of
universities have resisted any change in a system that has been in place, so it is
argued, since the late 1800s (Amano 1990). One school of thought sees the
university entrance and overall education system itself as inherently immobile
(Frost 1991; Schoppa 1991), a societal “filtering” mechanism to create a class
structure where otherwise none purportedly exists (McVeigh 2002b).
In this university entrance system, students are strictly ranked according to a
mock examination system administered by prep schools in which individuals are
assigned a score (hensachi) that is norm-referenced and indexed nationally (Brown
1995). Using this score, high school and prep school teachers advise their students
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