The recent appointment of Susan Kiefel as chief justice of the High Court is notable for several reasons but has a more sobering message for the nation's universities.
It highlights the shortcomings of an educational system against which her personal ambition and obvious ability have triumphed, leaving university leaders across Australia bashfully considering whether we would have admitted someone to study who left school at 15 to work as a legal secretary, without a formal educational qualification.
The answer, if we are honest, is "no".
If a system that should open entry to university fails to create opportunity and instead serves to exclude its users, what good is it? Australian universities routinely deny potential prime ministers, chief justices and chief executives their chance at success on the basis of ATAR, the weighted average of their strengths and weaknesses throughout high school. For decades, various iterations of this statewide form guide have determined where and what our children can study.
The ATAR has enabled universities to craft reputations for exclusivity by rationing student places with arbitrary cut-offs for courses. With these nominally high standards come perceptions of inherent quality unmatched by those who are more forthright about the true requirements for study in particular fields. The result is a self-sustaining gilt by association that has long outlived its relevance.
While Australian institutions loudly proclaim the worth of maintaining the status quo and reinforce the cosy positioning of consortiums such as the Group of Eight, internationally admission based on scaled academic ranking alone is anathema.
In the US, college admissions exams are considered as part of a matrix that includes demonstrated interests, aptitude, commitment, extracurricular activities and a range of personal attributes.
In the UK, admissions decisions are based on scholarly performance in relevant subjects related to the student's chosen field, academic and personal references, extracurriculars and, in some cases, interviews with faculty members or additional assignments.
In both countries, universities work to uncover a student's true potential and how they can help realise it. This is the approach that I have championed in my own university and for some years, we have regarded the ATAR as just one of a range of methods for assessing a student's application.
We believe in an individualised approach to student admissions, but we have been criticised because, by suggesting that the ATAR is not the only deciding factor, we seem to be endorsing a relaxed approach to study in year 12.
In fact, the opposite is true: we encourage excellence in the areas that matter most to students, but we also look for evidence that they have done more than simply read about them. Just as employers demand more than a degree from graduates, we look for more than just an academic all-rounder in an applicant.
We curate, support and nurture our students more thoroughly to ensure that they succeed and allow them to tailor their study program to ensure they emerge with a qualification and a set of skills as individual as they are. We know that this approach is working: our data shows that students admitted on a broad range of criteria perform better overall than those admitted on ATAR alone.
Universities have a duty to help their students identify and realise their potential. My university is committed to looking further than the ATAR to find it because, if we don't, we are failing in that duty and robbing ourselves of countless future leaders.
Professor S Bruce Dowton is vice-chancellor at Macquarie University.