How Standardized Testing Could've Kept Brandon Roy Out of the NBA

The P-I didn't want this, so I post it here. Bonus!

Brandon Roy is not stupid.

In fact, he's uncommonly intelligent.

You know this because you saw his college career. You remember how he'd slide undetected into the seams of a defense, where a teammate could spot him for an easy layup.

That's smart.

But I was reminded, by Brian Hendrickson's terrific profile of Roy in Sunday's Vancouver Columbian, that Roy nearly lost his Husky scholarship because he struggled to get a qualifying score on the SAT.

Roy eventually got the SAT score he needed.

But what if he hadn't? And why, to cut to the chase, did he have to?

Why did Brandon Roy, to gain entry into the NBA's training ground, have to pass a test that has nothing to do with his capability as a basketball player; nor--as some who study standardized testing would say--anything to do with his intelligence.

In the new book What Is Intelligence, social scientist James Flynn argues that so-called "intelligence" tests actually test only a certain application of intelligence--the capacity for abstract thought.

"Abstract" as in, to quote from my dictionary, "apart from concrete realities."

Author Malcolm Gladwell, in his review of Flynn's book in this week's New Yorker, describes an attempt to do "intelligence" testing on people firmly grounded in concrete reality, the Kpelle tribe of Liberia.

The researchers were simulating a "similarity" test, a common part of standardized tests...remember analogies?

To quote Gladwell, they "took a basket of food, tools, containers, and clothing and asked the tribesmen to sort them into appropriate categories. To the frustration of the researchers, the Kpelle chose functional pairings. They put a potato and a knife together because a knife is used to cut a potato. 'A wise man could only do such-and-such,' they explained. Finally, the researchers asked, 'How would a fool do it?' The tribesmen immediately re-sorted the items into the 'right' categories."

According to a Western "intelligence" test, Kpelle tribespeople are not only unintelligent, they have the mental ability of children.

Which is, of course, impossible. The Kpelle are expert farmers who cultivate more than a dozen crops. If they were so incompetent, they would've starved out of existence long ago.

(And the world would have a different richest female entertainer. Oprah Winfrey, DNA tests show, is descended from Kpelle ancestors.)

On the West African plains, you see, abstract thought won't help you.

It won't help you in sports either. That's true even for a cerebral position like quarterback.

Now, no one doubts that the quarterback position requires intelligence. But a 2005 study found no correlation between scores on the NFL-administered Wonderlic "intelligence" test and collegiate passing performance.

This leads to one of two possible conclusions: Either it doesn't matter how intelligent a quarterback is, or the Wonderlic assays the wrong kind of intelligence.

Washington's own Hugh Millen scored 41 on the Wonderlic in 1986, one of the highest scores ever.

The next year, Vinny Testaverde scored a 17. (See all reported scores here)

Millen's facility for abstract thought may help him as football analyst; he's one of the best I've heard.

But it didn't help him in the NFL. Millen was a career backup who threw 35 interceptions in 24 starts. (Though things might have turned out better if Jim Mora Jr. had been his coach).

Vinny Testaverde, meanwhile, is 6th all-time in NFL passing yards, and starts Sunday against the Seahawks.

It's difficult to argue that 44-year-old Testaverde is beating out younger players because of his athleticism. It must be his brains.

So whatever the Wonderlic is testing, it isn't testing the type of intelligence you need to succeed in football.

Vinny Testaverde and Brandon Roy, two All-Americans in college, nearly didn't make it there.

Would they be pros if they hadn't?

Willie Stewart, an all-state running back who graduated from Garfield High ten years before Roy (and two years before me) never got his chance.

Stewart was 6-2, 240, and fast.

Like Roy, he struggled to qualify for the scholarship the University of Washington offered him.

I had gym with Willie Stewart. He was quick-witted and funny; far more intelligent, in my estimation, than many of my college-bound peers.

But Stewart never did qualify for that scholarship, and his football career ended because of a system that has no more ability to predict whether he'd have been a good football player that it does to predict which Kpelle tribeperson will grow the most yams.

I don't blame colleges for using standardized tests to screen applicants. The tests do what they are supposed to--predict how well a student will do in abstract-thinking-heavy college classes.

Whether succeeding in college proves intelligence is somewhat unclear.

NBA and NFL executives all have college degrees. Some have two.

Yet, despite overwhelming evidence that not training an athlete because he fails a standardized test makes as much sense as not training an engineer because he can't dunk, their biggest source of talent remains a system that disqualifies people who can't pass the SAT.

For all the Roys and Testaverdes who managed to qualify for college, there must be dozens who didn't.

One of those abstract thinkers in front offices ought to figure out a way to catch the players that fall through the cracks. I'm sure Oprah Winfrey would.