Wednesday, November 11, 2026
Tran Dinh Thanh Lam
- It has become all too easy to spot an examination venue in Vietnam from the telltale litter of hundreds of tiny white pieces of paper, closely printed, that lie underfoot.
These are colloquially called ‘buoy’, standard equipment for youth seeking an entry to higher education and for whom the entrance exam is the hurdle to be cleared.
The snowstorm of ‘buoys’ however following each test indicates a serious problem that Vietnamese education authorities are struggling to grapple with.
”There was too much cheating at this year’s university entrance examinations,” said Deputy Minister of Education and Training Tran Van Nhung in the capital, Hanoi, following the examinations held Jul. 10.
Indeed, Tran Ba Giao, a deputy inspector in the Ministry of Education and Training (MoET), estimated that eight out of 10 candidates sitting for the exams resorted to the ubiquitous ‘buoys’.
Cracking down on those found cheating has not made a dent in the practice, and this year’s 4,000 suspensions from the 944,000 candidates who sat for the tests is a third more than the number last year.
The prevalent view amongst those who take the test however points to cheating being the symptom of and not the problem.
Eighteen-year-old Nguyen Thi Minh Ly empathises with those who cheat although she claims not to have done so herself. ”If you don’t cheat, you will lose (your place at university),” she said.
Ly’s explanation underlines the common argument that a college seat is a young person’s ticket to a successful future. ”If you fail at college exams, you can do nothing,” Ly added. ”For you, the door to the future is closed.”
That is a grim description that stares the majority in the face. After all, there are times when a hundred applicants are vying for a single seat in one of the more prestigious colleges.
The problem is a hydra-headed one. Many students who have failed university entrance exams have also refused to attend Vietnam’s high-level vocational schools – designed to turn out technicians and skilled workers – which are perceived as lacking in prestige.
The ministry has sought to attract students who consider themselves unable to compete for a university seat to these schools, and thereby trim the large numbers that sit for the entrance exam.
An early success of sorts has been claimed following the entrance tests held for vocational schools from Jul. 16-19. ”More than 400,000 candidates – this shows that vocational schools have begun to attract more students,” said MoET Deputy Minister Banh Tan Long joyfully.
If the MoET can sustain this trend, it may help a longer-term objective. Vietnam’s universities have been churning out more graduates than the country can employ, while vocational schools are struggling to attract enough students to fulfil the labour market’s demand for technically skilled workers.
The view on the ground and through the eyes of a young person is quite different, however. ”Companies always ask for college diplomas, even for the simple post of a secretary,” pointed out Ly. The certification has been pre-requisite to gaining entry into white-collar cadres.
It has also been pushed by the Communist Party, which recently required that high-ranking officials be diploma-holders, triggering off a host of officials signing up for ‘supplementary education courses’ so as to keep their posts.
The diktat exposed the seamy side of the diploma craze. In its 2002 report to the government, the MoET said that 8.8 percent of certificates and diplomas used by officials in office were ”illegally produced”.
In just one province, MoET authorities examining the individual records of government officials found 26 fake or doctored certificates and diplomas.
The continuing influence of Confucian values – where scholars are at the top strata of society – in Vietnam, the emphasis by the Communist Party on acceptable certification, and the large imbalance between available seats and candidates in universities have ironically combined to create a demand for services to subvert the system.
These are provided by the proliferation of so-called ‘University Entrance Preparation Courses’, which supply candidates with tips and model question-and-answer sets to prepare them for the exam by supporting the learning by rote model.
The photocopying stalls that inevitably surround university campuses then rapidly reproduce these sets into ‘buoys’.
To be sure, the MoET is well aware of where the problems lie. In 2002 the ministry announced sweeping reforms planned for college admission exams that it hoped would do away with the ”learn by heart” method.
It was planned that candidates would attempt multiple-choice tests in main subjects, and that their evaluation would be computer-assisted.
The Ho Chi Minh City National University was chosen to implement a pilot programme based on the guidelines, which promptly ran into so many objections from parents and teachers that it was shelved.
This year, the MoET has brought in less reformist changes. The traditional testing method has been retained, but students may choose whether to attempt entrance tests for university or for the vocational schools. ”Students are now choosing depending on their capacity,” noted Long. ”They no longer depend only on the university option only.”
Observers are not yet convinced that the changes will maintain the standards in the tertiary education system. They say that the vocational school route may even be a short-cut to a college or university certification.
This is because the MoET has allowed some vocational schools to offer higher education courses to their graduates in cooperation with universities. This means that with extra credits, vocational school graduates can get a higher education diploma.
If nothing else, the MoET’s new route may forestall complaints like that from Nguyen Hoang Quy, a teacher at the Ho Chi Minh City Economics University, who said of this July’s annual exercise: ”Never in my life have I seen such a messy college entrance exam.”