The modern digital exam leaves no such trace. It is a string of binary code, deleted or archived on a server in the cloud. There is no texture to it.
The physical design of the booklet contributes to this pressure. The cover is sturdy, but the interior pages are thin, cheap stock. They are porous. If you press too hard with your pen, the ink bleeds through to the other side, ruining the next page. You must be firm but gentle. There is a spatial awareness required—you have to estimate how many pages your argument about the Treaty of Versailles will take. Run out of space, and you are forced to write "Continued on back of page 7," a desperate signal to a tired grader. blue book exams
In the late 1920s, the university’s bookstore manager, a man named Alvin R. "Pop" Bush, noticed the logistical nightmare of exam season. According to university lore, Bush standardized the paper process, creating a booklet that the university could sell at a low cost. The color? A light blue, perhaps chosen because it was soothing, or perhaps simply because it was the cheapest dye available at the printing press. The modern digital exam leaves no such trace
As the academic year turns over, bookstores are ordering fewer Blue Books. The printing presses are slowing down. In a few decades, the Blue Book will likely be a curiosity, an object found in antique shops alongside slide rules and fountain pens. The physical design of the booklet contributes to