Think the ACT is stressful? China’s Gaokao turns testing into survival.
Every year, high school seniors across from all across China take their country’s National Higher Education Entrance Examination, the Gaokao. This exam is known for its grueling nature, taking over 9 hours to complete and several years to prepare for.
This exam consists of six different parts, including mathematics, Chinese, and English, as well as three additional sections tailored to the desired career path of the student. The Gaokao is extremely high stakes and considered one of the most competitive globally. This is the only way to get into college in China, and for many, the determinant of their entire future.
While the Gaokao is praised for rewarding merit-based academic success, the immense pressure it places on students is extreme. Starting in elementary school, kids are taught that their success depends entirely on a single test score. For many families, especially those in rural areas, the Gaokao serves as their only opportunity for upward mobility. This leads to students spending upwards of 12 hours a day studying, often sacrificing sleep, meals, and their mental health in the process.
This intense strain has had devastating consequences for Chinese students. Reported rates of anxiety, depression, and even suicide among high schoolers has risen exponentially over the past few years. When an exam becomes a matter of life or death, something has gone deeply wrong. Education is a process that should be about growth and creativity, not fear. Teenagers need balance, yet the Gaokao’s all-or-nothing structure leaves no room for error. Instead of measuring academic abilities, the exam more tests how well students can endure stress.
China’s education system must acknowledge that academic success cannot be defined by a single number. By introducing a more holistic approach to college admissions, they could significantly reduce the pressure Chinese students face for years leading up to the exam. Interviews, portfolios, and essays can also serve as indicators for one’s post-secondary readiness. Encouraging this new blend of well-roundedness would not weaken the modern Chinese standard; it would instead strengthen it by producing more healthy, emotionally stable students.
The Gaokao may lead to better universities and opportunities for some, but the cost is far too high. A system that encourages young people to push their limits to the point of despair cannot be considered a successful one. Reforming the Gaokao and its significance isn’t about easing expectations; it’s about creating a system that encourages and supports its students rather than tearing them down.
