The proposal to increase the weighting of oral presentations in student assessment has gained traction among educators who argue that such tasks better prepare young people for the demands of modern workplaces. Yet a careful examination of the evidence reveals that this shift would undermine fairness, exacerbate anxiety, and compromise the reliability of assessment outcomes. While the ability to speak confidently is undeniably valuable, the costs of privileging oral performance over written work are too great to ignore.

First, the subjective nature of marking oral presentations introduces significant inconsistency. Unlike written responses, which can be reviewed multiple times and assessed against a fixed rubric, spoken performances are ephemeral. Two assessors watching the same presentation may assign markedly different scores based on fleeting impressions of tone, body language, or perceived confidence. Research in educational measurement consistently shows that inter-rater reliability for oral assessments is lower than for written tasks. This variability penalises students who are less extroverted or who process information more slowly under pressure. The result is a system where luck—the luck of which examiner you draw—can determine your grade. That is not a foundation for equitable assessment.

Second, mandating a higher oral component would disproportionately harm students who experience social anxiety or communication disorders. According to the Australian Institute of Health and Welfare, approximately one in seven adolescents will experience an anxiety disorder before age eighteen. For these students, the prospect of standing before a class and delivering a prepared speech is not merely uncomfortable; it is debilitating. Their performance under such conditions does not reflect their knowledge or analytical ability. It reflects their capacity to manage acute stress. To weight oral tasks more heavily is to systematically disadvantage a significant minority of learners. Proponents argue that real-world communication often occurs under pressure, but the purpose of school assessment should be to measure understanding, not to simulate a crucible.

Two assessors watching the same presentation may assign markedly different scores based on fleeting impressions of tone, body language, or perceived confidence.

Third, written assessment offers distinct advantages in fostering deep thinking. Writing requires the organisation of ideas into coherent paragraphs, the selection of precise vocabulary, and the construction of logical arguments that can be revised and refined. Oral presentations, by contrast, often reward glibness and superficial fluency over substance. A student who has memorised a few talking points and speaks with confidence may receive a higher mark than a peer who has grappled with complexity but struggles to articulate it in real time. This dynamic encourages a focus on performance rather than on genuine intellectual engagement. If the goal of education is to cultivate critical thinkers, then assessment methods should prioritise depth over polish.

A common counterargument is that oral communication is a vital skill for employment and civic life. This is true. However, the solution is not to inflate its role in summative assessment. Schools can teach and practise oral skills through formative activities—debates, group discussions, peer feedback sessions—without attaching high-stakes marks to them. In this way, students develop competence without the distorting pressure of grades. Moreover, written communication remains the primary mode of assessment in tertiary education and many professions. To de-emphasise writing in secondary school would leave students ill-prepared for the demands of university essays, reports, and correspondence.

In conclusion, the case against increasing the weight of oral presentations in assessment rests on three pillars: the unreliability of marking, the inequitable impact on anxious students, and the superiority of written tasks for measuring deep understanding. These concerns are not trivial; they strike at the heart of what fair and effective assessment should achieve. While oral skills deserve a place in the curriculum, they should not be elevated to a dominant position in high-stakes evaluation. Caution, fairness, and evidence must guide our decisions, not the allure of innovation for its own sake.