Your calendar may have informed you that it was the anniversary of the Battle of the Boyne recently, and for the first time I actually knew what that was.
This was thanks to several evenings spent nose deep in the study guide for the Life in the UK test. I learned that this 1690 battle cemented England’s presence in Ireland and is still celebrated by Unionists. Touching on a conflict that endures to this day, it is certainly relevant to life in Britain. When I took the Life in the UK test last winter, the first question actually asked me about the Battle of the Boyne. But there was a curveball: the question didn’t want to know the meaning of the battle—it asked for the name of the king who lost.
I got it right—it’s James II—but do you think I should need to know that? Did you know that? And crucially—do you think all British people know that?
The Life in the UK test was first launched in 2005 amidst a national debate about immigration and whether people should be made to “fit in.” The home secretary David Blunkett had explained that the test “has to do with an understanding of the society, of the world that you are coming into.”
The original test focused mostly on daily life—what, for example, does it mean to be a good neighbour? How do you pay a phone bill? But, over the years, most of the practical questions were removed. In 2011, as the government sought to be “even tougher” on immigration, David Cameron announced that the test would instead focus on history because, apparently, what we really need from immigrants is a full and proper understanding of the War of the Roses.
Anyone taking the Life in the UK test will have been in Britain for years: it is required for those obtaining citizenship and permanent visas. But since Brexit, the number of Europeans applying for UK citizenship has surged. While the settlement scheme for Europeans in the UK safeguards many rights, those long years of Brexit negotiations have illustrated to me and millions of other Europeans here that there is no substitute for citizenship. “A lot of EU citizens still feel insecure about their rights [and worry it] could change again in future,” says Alexandra Bulat, co-chair of the Young Europeans Network at the3million, the interest group for safeguarding EU citizens in the UK.
So that means knuckling down for the Life in the UK test. You go to one of the UK’s 30-something testing centres where you are first searched to make sure you’re not cheating. You then have 45 minutes to answer 24 multiple choice questions. You need to get 18 right to pass. Every year, up to a quarter fail. You can take it as many times as you need, but each try costs £50. The Home Office sells recommended study guides (£22.99 for the package deal) and you should definitely study because not only is this test difficult, it’s also extremely odd. It feels like it has been devised by a trivia buff determined to showboat this country’s “long and illustrious history.”
I spent my evenings before the test learning about the Corn Laws, the national flowers and how Henry VIII got rid of each of his wives. I learned about the composition of a Scottish jury, the advent of state pensions, and how Britain became a monarchy again after Oliver Cromwell. When I texted bits of what I’d learned to British friends, they thought I was pulling their leg—I was required to learn what about cheese rolling in Gloucestershire?
Sometimes the study guide’s practice tests were almost too simple—anyone who’s lived in the UK for a while knows that House of Fraser isn’t in parliament. But other times they were really hard. It asks when women were given equal voting rights. Easy enough, you might think. But you have to consider whether the answer is 1918 (when women over 30 could vote) or 1928 (when women could vote at 21, the same age as men).
The Life in the UK test has received plenty of criticism, including accusations that it is part of the government's “hostile environment” for immigrants and that it alienates new citizens. Bulat of the3million has also taken the Life in the UK test. “You have to ask yourself, how much of the test is actually knowledge that is used in everyday life? For me, as a person who’s at home in the UK, that would be things like, how do I pay my taxes? How do I register to vote? How do I contact my MP?” says Bulat. “For me, this was a memory test.”
In recent years, the Home Office has recognised a need to update the test so it feel less like a trivia quiz and instead focuses on British values. But that begs the question: who gets to decide what those are? You could say that the mere fact that this test focuses so strongly on the past is a statement of values—it signals that this is a country that likes to look backwards to former glory. Looking at the material in the study guide, values come into play there too—for example it notes Margaret Thatcher’s role in ending the Cold War, but nothing about her resistance to economic sanctions against South Africa during apartheid (that I learned from watching The Crown).
I passed my Life in the UK test, and was relieved to be one step closer to citizenship. You aren’t told your exact score, but I had to guess a few answers about historic border movements. Still, I’m confident about my knowledge about actual life in Britain. I’ve lived here 21 years and I know how to queue, what shade of beige I like my builder’s tea and the real value of getting a round in at the pub. I understand that this stuff is a lot harder to suss out in a multiple choice test than the names of old kings. But I know that one key British value is neighbourliness, so I think we should at least try.
