We read the original 1924 purity test so you don't have to
A century-old campus ritual, a lot of photocopies and one very persistent internet. Here's the story, minus anything we'd have to blur.
Historians hate this one weird campus tradition.
Taking the Rice Purity Test is a canon event for pretty much every student. You take it, you gasp, you compare, you retake it a year later and gasp again. But almost nobody knows where it came from. So we went digging into a hundred years of campus history, so you don't have to.
One promise up front: this is a PG history. We'll describe what the old tests were like without reproducing any of the questions you'd have to hide from your grandparents.
The origin story, as the internet tells it
The version everyone repeats goes like this. The test started at Rice University in Houston, Texas, and dates back to around 1924. It was a checklist that students scored themselves on, starting at 100 and losing a point for every experience they'd had.
Rice students have long described it as an orientation week tradition. A new group of first-years would take it together as an icebreaker, which is a very efficient way to go from strangers to people who know far too much about each other. Over time it also picked up a second purpose: a way to track how your college years change you. Take it on day one, take it again at graduation, and marvel at the difference.
Now for the plot twist we hinted at in the title. We went looking for "the original 1924 test," and a century-old student tradition doesn't come with a tidy, verified paper trail. There's no official museum copy with a gold frame. What circulates online today is a much later version that has been edited, updated and passed along for decades. So think of this less as a documentary and more as a campfire story with footnotes.
(Also, for the record: we're a fan project. We're not affiliated with Rice University in any way. We just really like the ritual.)
What was actually on it (the PG summary)
Purity tests from the early and mid 20th century were basically checklists about dating, romance and breaking campus rules. They reflected a time when a lot of colleges had curfews, dress codes and chaperones, so plenty of things that sound tame today were a genuine scandal back then.
The milder items are honestly adorable by modern standards. Holding hands. Going on a date. Staying out past curfew. Being somewhere you were not supposed to be after dark. Imagine gasping at a friend because they held hands at a dance.
From there, the questions get considerably more grown-up, and that's exactly where our history lesson stops. You can thank us later.
From photocopies to message boards
For decades, purity tests spread the old-fashioned way. They were printed in student newspapers, handed around dorms, copied out by hand and adapted by other campuses. Every school seemed to have its own slightly different version, and every version claimed to be the real one.
By the 1980s and 1990s, the tests had made the jump to early internet message boards like Usenet. This is where things got out of hand. Some online versions ballooned to hundreds of questions, because the internet has never once known when to stop. If you think 100 questions is a lot, spare a thought for the students scrolling through a text file on a campus computer lab terminal.
Then came the web era. Static pages, forum threads, and eventually quiz sites that did the maths for you. No more counting ticks by hand, no more arguing about whether someone added up correctly.
The TikTok revival
Around the start of the 2020s, a whole new generation discovered the test through TikTok. "Guess my score" videos, reaction videos and "my score versus my friend's score" posts turned a century-old campus ritual into a trend. People who had never heard of Rice University suddenly knew exactly what their purity score was.
Honestly, it makes sense. The test was always a social thing, and short videos are just the newest version of sitting in a circle during orientation week. The format changed. The yelling did not. If you've ever wondered why a simple checklist can go viral, we unpacked it in the psychology of why we can't resist quizzes about ourselves.
Why we rewrote it for 2026
Here's the thing about a hundred-year-old checklist: a lot of it hasn't aged well. The ritual is brilliant, but plenty of the questions don't match how students actually live now, and many of them aren't something you'd want to explain to your little cousin who's peeking at your screen.
So we kept everything that makes the test great. Start at 100. Tick what you've done. Compare with friends. Argue for an hour. Then we rewrote all 100 questions around modern student life: 3 AM essays, texts sent to the wrong group chat, and the eternal question of whether cereal counts as dinner.
Once you've got your number, head over to our score meanings page to find out which of the seven personas you are. Then, if you're still procrastinating, our quiz hub has more where that came from.
Your turn: take the test
100 questions, about three minutes, one brutal score. Then send it to the group chat.