U of T Law’s new open book exam policy
“It’s not just about note storage—it’s about access to a system where the answer to any question is just a click away.”
Like many students at the Faculty of Law, Associate Dean Essert’s email announcing that “Starting this term, [the Faculty of Law] will no longer be able to permit students to use summaries or notes saved on their hard drives in electronic form on open book exams,” left me with more questions than answers.
Yes, preventing students from accessing generative AI software during open-book exams is important. Yes, exam integrity should generally take precedence over note-accessing convenience. But was this the most efficient way to solve the problem? Preventing students from accessing their hard drives altogether?
I have relied on my trusty “Command-F” (I’m a Mac user) function in every one of my previous open-book exams. It’s been a saving grace, allowing me to quickly sift through my map and locate that one elusive case name or legal principle buried in weeks of lecture notes. More than once, it’s helped me tackle obscure “surprise questions”—curveballs some professors love to include to see if we’ve been paying attention in lectures.
It has also given me the comfort of not relying so heavily on my map should a curveball arise — a comfort that comes with having immediate access to all of the notes I could need on the exam, and having them in hand. I’ve always known that, worst case, should my mind draw a blank, I would have the entire semester’s lecture notes and readings at my fingertips. I’d be able to easily draw upon them if needed.
More than my “Command-F” function – I’ve enjoyed the pleasures of digital note organization. It has shaped the way I approach studying for exams. Hyperlinked Course Outlines. Desktop Folders. Digital Copies of Legislation. It’s not just about note storage—it’s about access to a system where the answer to any question is just a click away. Deviation from this familiar study strategy—the one that I have used to study for most of my exams (for which the open book policy applies) thus far, is a big shift.
The new open-book policy presents a host of challenges. As the Student Law Society pointed out in their faculty-wide email, there are many consequences from this new policy, particularly concerning students with accommodations that rely on their ability to access their notes electronically. Further, many who have previously purchased online textbooks will no longer be able to access them in the exam room. Colour printing in the law library costs $1.00 per page, which adds up quickly for students like me who rely on heavily colour-coded outlines.
One obvious question comes to mind: Is this truly the best solution the faculty could come up with? Were there no alternative approaches that could have allowed students access to digital notes while still upholding academic integrity?
A friend of mine suggested proctoring software that records users’ screens, which she used during her undergraduate exams. This software allows administrators to review all screen activity and flags suspicious actions, such as copying and pasting, for a closer look. Such a system would allow students access to their digital notes, textbooks, and other resources while ensuring academic integrity is upheld.
If cell phones and other electronic devices are already banned during exams, why not take it a step further? Proctors could monitor laptop screens as they walk around the room, making sure students stick to allowed files and resources. With the right oversight, the fear of cheating can be alleviated without sacrificing the value of having convenient, searchable access to notes. I would rather see U of T invest in hiring additional proctors to enforce integrity guidelines than restrict hard drive access altogether.
One silver lining is that as I prepare for my exams, I may develop a more intuitive understanding of my course content, knowing I cannot rely on my digital, searchable notes to bail me out. This constraint may encourage students to process course material on a deeper level, rather than simply collating it. To adapt, I’ll need to ensure that my maps are concise, accurate, and serve as a tool to guide my thinking rather than a crutch to fall back on.
Many professors emphasize that this approach—focusing on clarity and mastery rather than exhaustive detail—is one of the best ways to study for a law school exam. It forces a deeper engagement with the material and helps build the kind of confidence needed under exam conditions.
The death of the “Command/Ctrl-F” function marks a change in the way law students study for open-book exams, forcing students to trade the comfort of a perfectly indexed digital world for the challenge of working with what they can carry into the exam room. While this policy might feel like a step backward, perhaps it’s a chance to rediscover the art of clarity, precision, and distillation that our pre-digital-era predecessors prioritized for so long.
We will adapt. We will trim our maps, sharpen our understanding, and prepare to meet the challenge head-on. Yet we’ll keep asking the question: was this really the best way forward?