“Your Pearson Test of English (PTE) result is available!” The text arrived at 11:34 AM on a scorching Tuesday in mid-December 2024. My heart sank as I opened it. I had secured an overall score of 77. While that might sound decent, I needed a minimum of 80 in each subtest component: reading, listening, speaking, and writing — to qualify for Australian permanent residency (PR). After graduating from a high-ranking university and making the Dean’s List three times (not to brag, of course), I was confident in my English skills. However, a computer software seemed to think otherwise, leaving me feeling frustrated and defeated.
A year earlier, on January 4th, 2024, I had taken the International English Language Testing System test (IELTS) for an Australian Association of Social Workers (AASW) skills assessment. For that, I only needed a score of 7 in each subtest, but I exceeded expectations scoring 9 in reading and listening, 8 in speaking, and 7 in writing — an overall band of 8.5. This achievement added 10 points to my PR application; however, to maximise my chances for PR, I needed 20 points. That meant demonstrating “superior English” by scoring an 8 in each band. I had missed the mark by a single point in Writing.
Hoping for better luck, I turned to the Pearson Test of English (PTE), but even this wasn’t smooth sailing. It wasn’t until my second attempt, on December 30th, 2024, that I passed the test.
I consider myself fortunate; a family friend had to take the PTE five times with each test costing $460, the financial toll is steep. In addition to the cost of undertaking the test, university-run IELTS preparation courses can set you back $400 for four Saturday sessions, and the cost of online subscription practice modules adds up per month! The expenses quickly pile up.
This experience isn’t unique to me. Over 4 million people worldwide have taken IELTS, a test owned by the British Council, Cambridge University Press & Assessment, and Australian company IDP Education. As reported by Caitlin Cassidy in The Guardian, IDP Education is listed among the top 100 companies on the Australian Securities Exchange (ASX) and delivers millions of tests per year. Cassidy reports that 19 Australian public universities are shareholders in IDP. Universities require students to undertake and pay fees for testing whilst profiting through their shares in IDP Education.
Beyond financial exploitation, these tests perpetuate deeper issues, such as their xenophobic undertones as quoted by Greens Senator Mehreen Faruqi in Cassidy’s article: “Insisting on multiple such tests, even for students who have completed tertiary education in English, has xenophobic undertones and clearly disadvantages students who didn’t grow up speaking English.”
I couldn’t agree more. Over the last four years, I’ve taken English proficiency tests four times. Results expire every two to three years depending on your circumstances. This expiration date feels both belittling and condescending. Imagine waking up on December 31, 2027, only to discover that your English skills have magically vanished overnight.
Language is a tool for communication. While it’s reasonable to expect a certain level of proficiency to adapt to life in a new country, the relentless need to repeatedly prove one’s abilities is exhausting and degrading. Perhaps one day we’ll move past these patronising assessments. Until then, I’ll be preparing for my next test on December 31st, 2027.
