Recently, I have been following a conversation on Twitter about why certain assessment methods are better than others. One of the criteria coming out of this conversation is whether the method can be ‘gamed’ by students.

Here’s Wikipedia’s definition of gaming: using the rules and procedures meant to protect a system in order...to manipulate the system for a desired outcome

Gaming a system means knowing how it works and understanding how to personally maximize your benefit and achievement within it. It means finding ways to put the least amount of resources in to get the maximum benefit out. Gaming a system is often equated with cheating because it allows people to gain advantages that would be almost impossible were one following the system’s explicit and implicit rules. In the classroom, some suggest that the more structured and defined an assessment, the more reliable and valid the results will be. This connection between rules, accountability, and evaluation is then equated with fairness, or a ‘level’ playing field.

Three conclusions flow from this description:

1. Systems that can be gamed are bad because they allow for, and, in some ways, reward cheating.

2. The more flexible the system, the more open it is to gaming.

3. The most fair systems are those that have rules that cannot be gamed.

If one subscribes to this view of things, there is absolutely nothing wrong with the way teachers traditionally evaluate students. In fact, there is likely now some added urgency to return to stricter, more structured grading because it is less likely to be gamed. Some of the same people might use this rationale to justify standardized curriculum and tests.

But is it true that rigid structures are more resistant to gaming? And perhaps even more important, is gaming the system really a bad thing?

In a traditional classroom environment, assessment is tightly tied to relatively few measures, usually homework, quizzes, and tests. The ways these are evaluated are also rigid. Rubrics, templates, checklists, and percentage scores  are all hallmarks of this kind of classroom. Proponents of this kind of evaluation might say that it provides concrete, objective data reflecting directly on curriculum and instruction. It places less reliance on a teacher’s subjective judgments, which could fluctuate based on a wide range of factors. Objectivity equals fairness, and a perfectly fair system gives all students the same opportunity for high levels of achievement.

This type of assessment is resistant to gaming, they might add, because a student can’t get around not knowing the content :  it is either present or it isn’t.

I would argue rigid systems that emphasize standardized content are easy to game, especially by members of the most privileged groups. Students who attend school regularly, conform to norms, who have decent literacy skills, strong peer networks, and abundant resources (tutoring, extracurriculars, travel, camps, etc.) are disproportionately successful in this system. The link between income and education attainment is well established.

Because of the bias inherent in this kind of content, assessment, and testing, I don't think that it can be called objective or fair. It is also easier to game because of the narrow range and shallow depth of the content it assesses. Educators should ask, "What kind of student does this system produce?"

I suggest watching the valedictorian’s speech below:

Should we be upset that students like Erica gamed the system, discovering that she didn’t have to be learner (perhaps just a rememberer?) to be successful?

I would say the answer to that should be a resounding ‘No.’ In order to game a system, you need to understand how it works, its limitations, what it values, and what it doesn’t. In and of itself, this is a complex kind of learning that also requires creativity and the ability to apply what one has learned.

Teachers should create systems that can be ‘gamed’ by every student—systems that require students to ‘level up’ different skills in different ways, at different times, and in different contexts. There shouldn't just be one simple algorithm for success.

Games are a context that students understand and enjoy, so they provide an ideal lexical field to apply to teaching and learning.

Why should this matter to gradeless teachers? Well, for one, the flexibility of assessments, the variety of student products, and the shared responsibility makes it difficult to game the system. The emphasis on feedback, goal setting, and continual growth means students never feel that they have ‘beaten’ the game or can simply replicate the same pathway over and over again. Students have to adapt and collaborate more frequently and more meaningfully. Gaming is still possible, but that's okay. If a student demonstrates that level of mastery in one area, we can devise tasks that allow students to work other mental muscles and grow in new ways.

There is risk and reward in making this change. When school involves students in all aspects of planning and assessment, things can get messy. Students may not make good choices or set high goals for themselves. They can also experience with anxiety or frustration. Not many people respond enthusiastically to change, especially when they have succeeded in the prior system. When pushback comes (and it always does), it is easy to just go back to the way things were. Moving to a gradeless classroom is a process and not an event. Students shouldn’t just give up on a skill or concept because they do not understand it the first, second, or tenth time.

Teachers need to model that same effort and resiliency in our efforts to create better—dare I say more gameable—classrooms for our students.

Mark Sonnemann is principal of Holy Name Catholic School in Kingston, Ontario. You can follow him on Twitter @MarkSonnemann and find more of his writing on Medium.