I was always good at exams. I would study diligently, prepare meticulously and pretty much do all I could to ensure that when the big day came I could do my very best. However, not everything in this life can be studied for and there are some tests for which you simply can’t prepare. Instead, they are trials that seemingly drop from the sky and you either pass them or you don’t. The Pub Test is one such test.
I was always good at exams. I would study diligently, prepare meticulously and pretty much do all I could to ensure that when the big day came I could do my very best. However, not everything in this life can be studied for and there are some tests for which you simply can’t prepare. Instead, they are trials that seemingly drop from the sky and you either pass them or you don’t. The Pub Test is one such test.
Doubtless, you’ve heard of it. If you’ve never been subjected to it, there’s a very good chance you’ve administered it, even if you’ve never set foot inside a pub. It’s kind of tricky like that. Much like the Force, the Pub Test is something that resides within all of us. It’s an energy that surrounds us and not only helps distinguish between fakery and the genuine article, but can also lift a wounded X-Wing out of a Degobah swamp if needed. (Although, in those circumstances, I’d rather call the RACV.) The Pub Test is all knowing and all-powerful. It is the first and final arbiter of what is good and what is not.
Other countries have a ‘reasonable person’ test. It says a lot about us that our equivalent has just ordered a bourbon and coke and a packet of salt and vinegar chips. Then again, perhaps these are the ideal circumstances under which to be reasonable. Imbued with a sense of well-being and bonhomie, it’s just the right moment to see the good in people. Or, at least, it ought to be. But timing is everything. A Pub Test administered at 6 o’clock in the evening would invariably yield different results to one conducted at 2 in the morning. Indeed, the Pub Test at that hour would be more interested in where to get a souvlaki and taxi than a true and fair determination of anything.
Like any kind of assessment, it prompts the question – what happens next? If you pass the Pub Test, do you get a certificate? Where, exactly, within the AQF framework would such a qualification sit? Presumably, passing the Pub Test entitles you to continue your study at a higher level. I can only guess that this means being assessed at a tertiary-level drinking house such a nightclub or wine bar. That said, I don’t think I’ve ever heard a proposition being described as passing the ‘wine bar’ test.
But despite the somewhat limited options for continuing study, the Pub Test is now more popular than ever. This is largely due to its incredible versatility. The Pub Test can be used to evaluate pretty much anything; from major infrastructure projects through to key moral dilemmas. Granted, the Pub Test has been under threat in recent years from a relative newcomer to the scene – social media. But while social media might be measured in trends, it’s also an environment in which people feel comfortable being the very opposite of reasonable. In fact, it’s encouraged. The more banana-squashingly bonkers you are on social media, the better. It’s for that reason that I feel that whilst social media may threaten the Pub Test, it will never truly replace it.
Granted, there’s also the ‘Sniff’ test but, quite seriously, who wants to abandon their better judgment in favour of an olfactory-led determination of merit? Not me. There’s something quite unsavoury about the very idea of the Sniff Test. There’s the question of proximity for starters, as I think it’s the kind of adjudication that requires some fairly severe leaning in. If this violation of personal space doesn’t bother you, there’s also the fairly unpleasant prospect of catching a honker full of something truly odious. No sir, the Sniff Test fails the Pub Test so far as I’m concerned.
So where do we take the Pub Test from here? Frankly, the sky’s the limit. I can foresee a time when the Pub Test replaces all forms of scholastic measurement. Instead of NAPLAN, children would be required to sit the Pub Test instead. Imagine being assessed at 8 years of age only to be informed that you had failed to pass the Pub Test. Somewhat ironically, this could quite a sobering message. But it just might be the thing to get young miscreants onto the straight and narrow. For myself, had it been possible to pull my socks up any further (I used elastic garters – they’re quite helpful), I would surely have done so.
I appreciate that I’m being controversial. But I think that it’s time we turned our gaze inwards and thought a little more about how we judge things. Sometimes you need something more robust than instinct alone. Before we determine something to be unsalvageable, perhaps a measure of expertise might help the decision making process. Meanwhile, I’ve decided to do my thesis on the history of the Pub Test and how it has brought us to where we are today. I am, of course, somewhat nervous about how I’ll go. If I’m being honest, my thesis is long and not very pleasant to read. And for those reasons alone, it does not deserve to pass the Pub Test. So be it.