Travails of admission
By Shashi Tharoor
"The Hindu", Online edition of India's National Newspaper
September 01, 2002

AS freshers all over India embark on the first terms of their college careers, I found myself ruminating over the process by which we put them there.

A year ago in New York, I met 16-year-old Himanshu Singh Dhillon, a remarkable young Indian who came to the United Nations headquarters to speak for Indian youth at an international conference. Himanshu was by far the most impressive young person on display amongst adolescents from around the world — a spellbinding speaker with obvious intelligence, compassion and self-confidence. I asked to meet him afterwards and was struck both by his maturity and his modesty. It is rare to see such unusual gifts of public speaking accompanied by such a complete lack of arrogance or pretension. When I learned that such a gifted young person was applying to my alma mater in Delhi, St. Stephen's College, rather than to Harvard or Cambridge, I felt, as a Stephanian, that it was our good fortune to have him. For one thing, I expected him to win every inter-collegiate debate or speech contest for his college.

Imagine my astonishment, therefore, when he wrote to me to say that St. Stephen's had not even called him for an interview. "The most surprising thing," he wrote, "is that St. Stephen's College, with its famous debating and dramatics societies, does not consider an applicant's extra-curricular achievements. They do however have a sports quota, which relaxes the requirement by 15 per cent. This means that if the cut-off for Economics Hons is 90 per cent (best of four subjects) any student who has participated at the State or national level in one of the `recognised' sports will be called to the interview, even with a best-of-four-subjects aggregate of 75 per cent. On the other hand, a student with national level debate and dramatics certificates or even one with international level participation in creative writing and public speaking is not even called for the interview."

I was appalled; this was certainly not how St. Stephen's used to be. Some of its outstanding graduates, who have gone on to stellar careers in the public eye, would blush to have their high school marks revealed. They had been selected for admission despite their grades, not because of them, by admissions committees which had valued their extra-curricular talents. Himanshu's best-of-four subjects aggregate was 82.75 per cent. He had been a speaker, debater, writer, conference participant and volunteer social worker, but none of these credentials would even be considered till the interview process — and without 90 per cent, he was not even eligible for the interview. A sportsman, however, could have been considered with an aggregate of 75 per cent, as Rahul Gandhi once famously was.

"I always wanted to go to St. Stephen's since I had heard a lot about the college and its various societies," Himanshu wrote. "A dream which has been squashed by a technicality." Convinced the college was making a mistake, I wrote to Anil Wilson, the principal of St. Stephen's, drawing his attention to the case. "I fully respect the stringent selection criteria employed by the college, which ensures the high quality of our student intake," I wrote. "At the same time, I know that St. Stephen's has always understood that some of the most important elements of our education occur in college outside the classroom, and that the remarkable young all-rounder with 82 per cent marks is often a worthier Stephanian than the swot with 95 per cent. "The Principal himself had authored an article titled `Marks Can't Be the Sole Indicator of Merit' on the St. Stephen's College web site (www.ststephens.edu). Young Himanshu was, I told him, someone St. Stephen's should be proud to admit; to turn him down over a few percentage points was folly indeed. "Back in 1972, I was admitted to St. Stephen's without an interview," I concluded. "This young man is merely asking for a chance to be interviewed, so that you can judge for yourself the qualities he could bring to the college .... I truly hope you will overrule the unimaginative number-counters who denied him an interview."

My self-righteousness faded immediately, for the principal replied with astonishing promptness and courtesy. "Since 1972," Anil Wilson explained, "much has happened and not all of it is for the good." A court challenge in the 1980s to the college's admissions interviews "went right up to the Supreme Court where a five-Judge Constitution Bench decreed that we should not interview more than five candidates per seat. Thus if we have 10 seats, we can interview up to a maximum of 50 candidates and these candidates have to be called by their merit of marks. Himanshu's score is 82.5 per cent whereas the cut-off is 90 per cent. Now if we are to call him for an interview we would have to call everyone with his marks and those above him for an interview too. This would mean calling (by a conservative estimate) at least 100 more candidates."

And what about Himanshu's extra curricular activities (ECA)? "Yes, participation in these activities plays a pivotal role in a candidate's selection at the interview stage. At that stage for every one candidate who is selected, four are going to be rejected, and ECA plays a major role in this selection. But while in the sports field there are recognised indices to determine a candidate's level of participation (e.g Ranji trophy player, Cooch-Behar Trophy player, etc), in the field of ECA there are no such indices and most schools give such laudatory certificates to their students that it is impossible to go by them." Sportsmen, he added, can compete with each other in trials, but how could a college hold trials to compare a debater with a singer or a dancer?

There were more arguments, but I could see the point. And then came the clincher: "Almost every year someone takes us to court. And the first thing the courts ask is: `did you stick to the Supreme Court guidelines of interviewing not more than five candidates per seat?'. We would rather be safe than sorry."

I gave in. But there was a satisfactory postscript. Though ineligible for admission to the Honours courses, Himanshu applied for the B.A. (pass) programme, was interviewed and accepted. I have no doubt he will go on to achieve much greater distinction in college, and in life, than many with a "Hons" after their names. But the entire correspondence was a sobering reminder of how difficult it now is to get into a good course at a good college — and how much colleges are obliged to look over their shoulders at the legal risks they run in making their admissions decisions. I must remember to thank Principal Wilson for his graciousness in adding this unexpected dimension to my Stephanian education.

The writer, the Under Secretary-General for Communications and Public Information, United Nations, New York, is the author of Riot. Visit him at shashitharoor.com