One contributing factor to law student anxiety and discontent is the use of a curve for grading. I have never used a curve, even though a variety of complex academic rules mandating curves but allowing for exceptions were in place. Whenever challenged, I managed to explain why what I was doing did not technically violate the curve rules. How do I grade? I grade against a standard. I learned that from several sources, including several of the law school faculty who taught me, and from teachers both in the family and among friends. Grades are designed to send a message to whomever needs to know about the student, that is, the extent to which a student understands and perhaps even masters the material. There are benchmarks and I share those with students. For example, if a student can earn at least 20 percent of the points that I would earn on the graded exercises and examination in a course, then the student has at least learned something and deserves to pass, albeit with a very low grade. In contrast, a student who can earn roughly 80 percent of the points I would earn has earned an A. I use the word “roughly” because I also try not to put a letter grade cut where there is no gap in the raw scores.
Proponents of the curve argue that students need to be ranked in some way that limits the number of students earning the high letter grades. Why? It is difficult to find plausible arguments in favor of grading curves, and many arguments against using them. At least with respect to law school, the notion that it is necessary to identify the “top ten percent” supports the use of a curve, because a curve that limits the “A” grade to the top ten percent will generate a “top ten percent” for all students taking into account all grades. One historical reason for this approach was the invitation to Law Review membership, a prestigious position, that was limited to the “top ten percent.” But during the last several decades, the admission of students to Law Review membership based on “open writing” competitions has demonstrated that being in the “top ten percent” does not necessarily mean that someone has what is needed to write and edit well, and that not making the “top ten percent” does not necessarily mean that the student lacks those skills. Another reason for this “top ten percent” approach is to assist big law firms, who traditionally would limit interviews to those in the “top ten percent,” though in recent years that tradition also has eroded. Of course, without a grading curve, it is theoretically possible that all students would end up with grade point averages that are, for all intents and purposes, the same. So what? Well, the “so what” is that the grading needs to be based on an articulated standard. And that doesn’t always happen. The “throw the exams down the stairs and see where they land” joke is pretty much just that, a joke, but as an undergraduate student I encountered faculty who were unable to explain how they arrived at the grade that they assigned.
Interestingly, most grading curve mandates allow exceptions that reflect to some extent the arguments that can be made against grading curves generally. For example, very few grading curve rules apply to small classes, the definition of which varies from enrollments of 10 to enrollments of 30 or 40. So how can a faculty justify to students that if one or two students add a course during drop-add that the grading system will change from application of a standard or benchmark to a curve?
Though students consider grading curves to be unfair because they think curves lower their grades, and that often happens to some students, there are other problems. The fact that the curve “pushes down ” some students’ letter grades caused many schools to add grades so that a student who missed the A grade would get an A-minus or B-plus rather than a B. This, in turn, has contributed to “grade inflation” because what would have been a B grade becomes a B-plus or A-minus. The almost complete disappearance of the C-minus, D, and F grades is a related, but different, issue. Another problem with the curve is that it can send a false message by assigning the A grade to the top ten percent of the raw scores even if those raw scores are far from excellent. Though most grade curve rules allow for adjustments, it doesn’t always work that way.
Some years ago, a colleague long gone said to me, “It’s easy. The best paper gets an A, the rest don’t.” I asked, “Even if there is another paper just about as good?” The answer was, “Yes.” I asked, “And what if the best paper is mediocre?” The answer was to the effect that someone always wins the gold medal. But education isn’t a competition. Well, it often is but it ought not be. Lawyers are perceived as combative competitors, and surely there are some who exhibit that trait, but lawyers also engage in cooperative endeavors, and the notion that students are competing in a course for “the A” or for “one of the eight A grades in a class of 80” is counterproductive. Professor Young’s article explains why.
Nothing that I am writing is something that I am expressing for the first time. I have written about grading curves in posts such as Once Again, Grades are "Coming Out", Yet More Reasons to Dislike Grading Curves, The Artificiality of Mandatory Grading Curves, and Some Thoughts on Teaching Law: Part XX: The Art or Science of Grading. And even before I blogged about the issue, I shared these thoughts with colleagues and administrators, both in faculty meetings and outside of faculty meetings. There probably are memos written by me somewhere in my school office, but I will refrain from digging them out, for a variety of reasons, not only to avoid needing to redact names but also because the points I made are repeated in the commentaries cited in this pararaph. Of course, faculty who arrived since I retired five years ago were spared, for better or for worse, from listening to or reading my memos about grading, though perhaps one or more of those famous memos might still be circulating. And perhaps some of them read this blog and have seen those earlier commentaries.
It is refreshing to see others call for the elimination of grading curves. Perhaps they will disappear, as law school education evolves. Why do I think this might happen? In the 1980s when I started administering during-semester graded exercises, I encountered much resistance and barely obtained permission to do so. Now, formative assessment in law schools is all the rage. So change is possible, and it happens. Whether curves disappear formally, and not just informally, during what’s left of my time teaching law school – which could end tomorrow or next year or three years from now but it will end, someday – is a question with only a guess as an answer. We’ll see.
Another contributing factor to law student anxiety and discontent is “cold calling.” I’ll write about that in my next post.