Start with the finding that's easiest to skip past: once you account for who gets in, attending a selective school adds little or nothing to a student's achievement. This isn't a fringe result. The strongest causal evidence internationally comes from regression-discontinuity studies of Boston and New York exam schools, which exploit the sharp admissions cutoff to compare students just above and just below the line — students who are, for all practical purposes, identical except for which school they attend. The result: "little effect of exam school offers on most students' achievement," and the authors conclude the intense competition for seats "does not appear to be justified by improved learning for a broad set of students" [TST-01]. Australia's own research points the same way. The first regression-discontinuity and matching study of an Australian selective system, using Victorian data, found only "small positive effects at best" on university entrance results once students' existing high achievement and aspiration were accounted for [TST-02]. The first such study for New South Wales — the country's oldest and largest selective system — found offers had "only scattered and mostly insignificant impacts on overall student achievement," though low-SES students who did get in seemed to benefit more, while remaining underrepresented in the intake to begin with [TST-03]. The common thread across Boston, New York, Victoria and NSW is that the huge gap in average achievement between selective and non-selective schools is mostly explained by who walks through the door, not by anything the school subsequently does. One UK study, using a historical grammar-school assignment formula, did find a genuine elite-school effect on years of completed education — but even there the downstream effects were uneven and not a straightforward achievement bump: gains in income for women, none for men, and a fertility cost for women, which is a different kind of finding altogether, not evidence that the school made students better at exams [TST-04]. In Victoria today, roughly 1,000 Year 9 places are contested across four selective schools each year [TST-05], and nationally, as of 2015, 25 selective high schools and a further 70 select-entry programs operated across four states [TST-09] — a lot of family effort and money chasing a prize that, on the best available evidence, is substantially an illusion of the sorting process itself.
If the school itself doesn't do much, does preparing for the entrance test do anything? Here the evidence is more encouraging, but modest, and it discriminates sharply between good and bad preparation. A 2025 meta-analysis of 28 experimental and quasi-experimental studies found that structured test preparation does significantly improve scores on large-scale educational tests, but the effect is small to moderate — an effect size of g=.26 — and, crucially, it is not driven by simply doing lots of practice items. The gains came from workbook use, training in socio-affective strategies (managing anxiety, pacing, confidence), and explicit instruction in test-taking skills; the study found "little evidence of practice effect" from sample items and practice tests alone [TST-06]. A separate, older but well-established meta-analysis in the personnel-selection literature — 50 studies, over 134,000 participants, on retesting with cognitive-ability-style tests, the kind of reasoning test that selective-entry and scholarship exams most resemble — found essentially the same quarter-standard-deviation gain (g=.26) from taking a similar test twice, with larger gains when practice was combined with actual coaching or when identical test forms were reused [TST-07]. US research on SAT coaching, using propensity-score matching to correct for the fact that families who seek coaching differ systematically from those who don't, found real but modest gains — roughly 11 to 15 points on maths, 6 to 9 on verbal — and, tellingly, those gains were substantially larger for higher-SES students than for lower-SES students using the same kind of preparation (15 vs 5 points on maths; 9 vs 2 on verbal) [TST-08]. Put together: coaching works, a bit, mostly through quality of preparation rather than sheer volume of drilling, and the families with more resources tend to extract more benefit from it than families with less — which is worth sitting with rather than glossing over.
The third thread is what high-stakes testing does to teaching itself, and here the Australian evidence is direct and uncomfortable. A foundational qualitative synthesis of 49 studies found the dominant, most common effect of high-stakes testing on classrooms is that curriculum narrows to what's tested, knowledge gets fragmented into test-sized pieces, and pedagogy shifts toward teacher-centred instruction — though a significant minority of tests, depending on how they're structured, produced the opposite: curriculum expansion and more student-centred teaching [TST-10]. Australia's own 2020 independent NAPLAN Review reached a strikingly similar and specific conclusion about writing: restricting the writing test to narrative and persuasive genres, with the genre often announced in advance, "led to very formulaic writing in students' responses to the prompt and, as a further unintended consequence, to very formulaic teaching of writing in some schools as they seek to prepare students for the NAPLAN writing test" — a finding serious enough that the review recommended withdrawing the writing test from census testing altogether [TST-11]. The review's stakeholder testimony makes the mechanism concrete: teachers described being coached into "gaming" the marking criteria, producing what one respondent called "cookie cutter" writing, and the panel's own analysis linked this directly to test preparation displacing the planned curriculum in the lead-up to testing — NAPLAN prep becoming, in the report's words, "the proxy curriculum" [TST-12]. This is the washback effect in its plainest form: when a test rewards a formula, schools teach the formula, and something real is lost in the process.
Put the three threads together and the honest picture for a family weighing selective-entry or scholarship testing is this. The school itself is very unlikely to be the transformative factor everyone assumes it is — the achievement gap between selective and comprehensive schools is mostly the students who were already there, not something the building or the label adds. Coaching for the entrance exam can move the needle, but only modestly, and only when it's built around real skill development — strategy, structure, confidence, exam craft — rather than repetition for its own sake; volume of practice items is close to worthless on its own. And the surrounding culture of high-stakes testing has a well-documented tendency to narrow teaching toward formula, which is precisely the trap a family should want their child to avoid, not walk into. None of this is an argument against preparing. Confidence going into an exam matters, access to selective pathways matters for families who want them, and a quarter-standard-deviation gain is real value when a single test is the gate. But it is an argument for being honest about what preparation actually buys: not a guaranteed changed trajectory, and not best pursued through drilling more of the same formulaic material a high-stakes test tends to reward. The durable asset a student carries out of a genuine test-preparation period is the literacy and reasoning skill built along the way — the actual capacity to read closely, argue clearly, and write well under pressure — which persists long after the specific exam is behind them, whether or not they get the placement. That is the case for teaching craft rather than test tricks: not because test tricks don't work at all, but because the evidence says they barely do, while the underlying skill is what was worth building regardless of the outcome on the day.