In defense of the Personal Statement, aka The College Essay is one thing that is still pretty much right about America
In defense of the Personal Statement
aka
The College Essay is one thing that is still pretty much right about America
Recently, Johns Hopkins International Studies professor Yascha Mounk—after reading the current version of the now perennial viral springtime admissions grievance article—felt that the long awaited moment to launch his attack on the Common App essay, “The College Essay Is Everything That’s Wrong With America,” had finally come. Mounk’s rant was one that, apparently, he’d been holding back for years, which made it especially surprising that the arguments are so weak, cursory and self-contradictory. They also aren’t the least bit new. I read an article like it at least once a year. But somehow this one stuck with me. We college admissions and essay consultants have a lot to say about how to *approach* the essay. And we argue about how important it is, or isn’t, to admissions—heck, we even have a Guy who enjoys a taste of mainstream celebrity from coaching it. But, at least in mainstream media (and Facebook forums!), only the haters seem to have an actual opinion about the existence of the oft-offending writing task. Until today!
Because I wasn’t allowed to comment on Mounk’s post without becoming a paid reader of his blog—reading is free, speech isn’t, apparently—and because I just couldn’t get it out of my head, I decided to write a defense of the college essay, and, to a degree of our profession, which always falls under attack in these rages against the writing portion of the application.
[Note: While I take great exception to Mounk’s post, I ended up going a ways down the rabbit hole of his political writing, which is thorough, thoughtful, incisive, insightful. I tend to be someone who encourages people to speak their minds/truths, not “stay in their lane,” and I don’t want to feel that Mounk should have stayed in his, I just wish he’d put, no exaggeration, a tiny fraction of the thought/effort he puts into his professional work as he put into this dashed-off diatribe, because clearly he has intelligent and dedicated readers who take him seriously.]
What Mounk is referring to as “the college essay” many know as the Common Application Essay, formally the “Personal Statement.” It’s a vital, crucial piece of each applicant's overall application. It serves a nearly utterly neglected function in the age of data (grades, rigor, test scores, activities and honors) being nearly all that colleges use to make their admissions decisions. What critics of the Common App essay ignore is that a huge part of what makes the most highly-selective American colleges great—to whatever extent nearly everyone thinks they are, particularly those who grieve loudest after they or their child is rejected from them—is the distinctive variety of bright, engaging and engaged young people in each new freshman class. In 2025, just about the only way colleges can discern the human being behind all the data to build those cherished communities is through that short essay. Each applicant has a story - the essay is the only place to tell a tiny piece of it in their own words.
I enjoy working with college-bound kids and their families and think of it as a helping profession. Yes, some people pay me a lot of money for my work. Others don’t. And a few each year pay nothing at all. This is not to virtue signal, but to point out that, after a lifetime of sundry academic and other gigs to support various creative endeavors, I began what I thought was a legitimate, useful, career in what I thought of as a fairly uncontroversial field only to read, without exaggeration, at least one bit of media a week lashing out at those so-called private college counselors as shameless sharks who write students’ essays for them and otherwise get rich teaching the wealthy how to lie and cheat their way through the college admissions process. Yes, you can go watch “Varsity Blues,” (I actually encourage it for certain parents) about a scandalous conman in our profession and the rich Hollywood parents who chose to forgo ethics and try to finagle their kids’ way into selective+ colleges via bribery, fraud, SAT-score-rigging, etc. You may also have heard about one particular consultant in the news these past couple of years who charges $100,000+ and guarantees Ivy+ admissions (the price is disgusting and the promise impossible to fulfill, but that’s for another time).
Most of us college admissions IECs (Independent Educational Consultants) take our work and ethical obligations very seriously and take great satisfaction in helping families navigate a deeply flawed and overly complicated system. I like to think that by coaching applicants—many of whom have never before been asked to write about themselves, let alone for such high stakes—in how to introduce themselves memorably in terms of one chosen topic, one story, in brisk, conversational English, in just a few hundred words, I send them off to college with at least a primer in an essential life skill they would otherwise be slow to develop, if they develop it at all: self reflection. It’s a skill that they’ll be needing as they move on to cover letters, internship and job interviews, the list goes on. Writing the Common App essay teaches them a new writing form, introduces them to their own voice, and to writing with a particular audience in mind. Soft/people skills have largely been omitted in the teen years of so many college applicants, particularly those who, isolated during covid, began nerding out about their given academic passion along with grades and SAT scores, in middle school, forgoing much of a normal pre-teen’s social life. Those are the kids (and parents) who have the highest expectations, and who often fear and hate the essay the most, who feel they’ve done everything “right” up until the point of writing that ^*$(% thing and that should be enough—they’re also the kids who most gravely need to learn the skills the essay requires.
That said, here is my defense of the only humanistic aspect of the college application process, the Common App essay, via some constructive responses to Mr. Mounk’s attempt, not altogether unlike notes I might give a client.
Again, if you’d like to read the background material, here’s Zach Yadegari’s Common App essay and one of the many articles about the grave injustice he and Mounk feel the young man has suffered.
Below are quotes from Mounk’s piece (published 4/4/25) followed by my feedback (in italics). To read his post in full, here you go.)
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A few days ago, an 18-year-old by the name of Zach Yadegari publicly shared his impressive accomplishments—and the disappointing outcome of his attempt to get into an elite college. Zach had a GPA of 4.0. He had a score of 34 (out of 36) on the ACT, a standardized test applicants sometimes take in lieu of the SAT. Perhaps most impressively, he is an accomplished coder who has built a genuinely successful business…. Despite this impressive record … he was roundly rejected by every Ivy League school…. Nor did he fare any better at other top colleges…. Even some comparatively less selective schools such as UVA and Washington University did not take any interest in him.
“Did not take any interest in him” is not the way college admissions works. The schools certainly all took an interest in Zach Y. His essay, though ill-conceived and poorly executed, certainly succeeded in standing out. They noticed all right, they just didn’t end up admitting him. Additionally, it would serve the argument to acknowledge the counterargument - that he was also accepted by three selective++ “top” colleges, Georgia Tech, The University of Texas at Austin, and the University of Miami - and then rebut it.
The average test scores for white students admitted to NYU are lower than Zach’s; but the average test scores for Hispanic and especially black students admitted to NYU are far lower. This leaked data suggests that Zach would have been highly likely to gain admission to NYU—and perhaps many of the other schools he applied to—if he wasn’t white.
Mounk takes far too long to get to his clearly stated topic: an attack on “the college essay.” On top of that, though, this paragraph takes a hard right turn that will distract readers. Is this a polemic about the college essay or an anti-affirmative action rant? (Similar issue re veering far OT later re that bizarre and distracting Bernard Williams paragraph, which offers little except proof that the author is familiar with the work of a certain British philosopher. No need to establish bona fides here.)
The central role the college essay plays in admissions forces even genuine and well-meaning kids to have “one thought too many” as they go about activities they might otherwise undertake for the pure pleasure of it. It is the first of many steps in shaping a social elite that is willing to put its own advancement ahead of any authentic engagement with the world.
It’s hard for a reader to track, beyond sensational headlines, why the writer feels the college essay has this immense power. As for the essay or “the system” encouraging too many activities, if anything, colleges—and thus those nefarious coaches and counselors—have for many years now leaned the opposite direction, encouraging young people to engage deeply and consistently over their high school years in a few activities that interest them—neither the schools nor the essay encourage otherwise—like, not even a little bit. I would argue the converse, actually: that what’s disturbing is that kids (and parents) who feel pushed to be specialists as early as middle-school to compete in selective+ admissions really aren’t allowed to be kids and try a little bit of everything to figure out what interests them most—that is, if they want to stand a chance to be admitted to those cherished Ivy+ schools. The days of the well-rounded kid who does everything (sports, clubs, academics, non-specialized summer camp, family trips, a social life) being a top Ivy+ candidate are long, long gone. Perhaps Mounk has been holding this rant back too long, it’s more than a bit dated.
The college essay is a deeply unfair way to select students for top colleges, one that is much more biased against the poor than standardized tests.
Source? From what I know, there is data to support both sides of this point, likewise about testing favoring the rich. This piece is intentionally a rant, but even rants need support to be successful.
The college essay wrongly encourages students to cast themselves as victims, to exaggerate the adversity they’ve faced, and to turn genuinely upsetting experiences into the focal point of their self-understanding.
This is simply counterfactual, and feels like Mounk has created a straw man, or rather, has vested college admissions essay itself with some bizarre agency, and then blames it. What is there to support this claim? The college essay doesn’t encourage anything at all but a response to one of these seven prompts, in 650 words or less (not the 750 Mounk mentions—even for a rant, fact-checking would be appropriate!):
Some students have a background, identity, interest, or talent that is so meaningful they believe their application would be incomplete without it. If this sounds like you, then please share your story.
The lessons we take from obstacles we encounter can be fundamental to later success. Recount a time when you faced a challenge, setback, or failure. How did it affect you, and what did you learn from the experience?
Reflect on a time when you questioned or challenged a belief or idea. What prompted your thinking? What was the outcome?
Reflect on something that someone has done for you that has made you happy or thankful in a surprising way. How has this gratitude affected or motivated you?
Discuss an accomplishment, event, or realization that sparked a period of personal growth and a new understanding of yourself or others.
Describe a topic, idea, or concept you find so engaging that it makes you lose all track of time. Why does it captivate you? What or who do you turn to when you want to learn more?
Share an essay on any topic of your choice. It can be one you've already written, one that responds to a different prompt, or one of your own design
The college essay, dear reader, should be banned and banished and burned to the ground.
Solid rant language, except for “dear reader,” which weakens the power of the rage, and, at this point, is a bit tired.
…rich parents can, however, easily write the admissions essay for their kid or hire a “college consultant” who “works with” the applicant to “improve” that essay.
A college admissions essay written by a parent reads like a college admissions essay written by a parent. It’s nearly always a disaster that hampers much more than helps an application. The essay is the only place—in this era of no admissions interviews—for admissions offices to get an actual impression of the human being, an important factor in putting together American college freshman classes, in constructing a college community. Perhaps it’s this aspect of the system, as opposed to the British one Mounk was raised in, that he really objects to. The fact that US colleges and universities are nearly as focused on community as they are on academics might have been a better focus for this piece, and for his self-righteous anger.
Even if rich parents don’t cheat in those ways, their class position gives rich kids a huge advantage in the exercise.
Again, Mounk swings wide here. If he wants to write a rant about ending capitalism and class in America, he should do that, but given the system we have, yes, money does buy things, including college admissions consultants. And yes, like those folks in LA, one can choose an obviously unethical consultant who will actually write much of an applicant’s essay, but, again, be careful, those unprofessional practitioners are often hacks. If said ghostwriter isn’t extremely skilled at the voice of a teen, let alone attuned to the very particular teen who’s an entrepreneur and sneakerhead applying to the University of Michigan’s Ross School, say, the essay will backfire, miserably—admissions officers have become pretty savvy about this sort of thing. Perhaps Mounk should give them a bit of credit? Last, why the scare quotes around “college consultant,” “works with,” and “improve”? Does Mounk not “consult with” his students to help them “improve” their work at the elite private institution where he teaches? Those words he puts scare quotes around are precisely what a good, ethical educational consultant does. What we do not do is write essays, any more than Mounk writes term papers, I assume (because I try, even in today’s USA, to assume that professionals act professionally). Throughout the piece, he seems to be raging against sensational headlines and outliers, consultants and wealth, the “system,” not the essay itself. I can’t help but wonder how many Common App essays Mounk has actually read. A great place to start would be his own school, which offers great examples every year.
Writing a good admissions essay is to a large extent an exercise in demonstrating one’s good taste—”
Mounk simply hasn't researched his topic. So a good college admissions essay demonstrates the ability to have great taste … under conditions of dire adversity? That’s a big ask. And Zach Yadegari’s essay was far beyond tasteless. It was arrogant, condescending, and scoffed at the very idea of someone of his precociousness and accomplishments bothering to attend college. It was also, at best, a mediocre piece of writing. I can’t imagine an admissions officer who would think he would make a good member of the community that is a freshman class of any college, let alone the most competitive ones in the country. I’m actually really surprised that, as someone who I assume teaches undergraduates, Mounk would defend Yadegari.
If you come from a background in which your parents and grandparents went to college and many family friends have recently gone through the Kafkaesque process of gaining admission to an elite institution and you are friends with a person or two who teaches at such a university, then you obviously have a giant advantage.
This is a fair point, if it didn’t directly contradict the thesis that emphasising one’s struggle and adversity is the key to admissions-essay success. The “good taste” and “adversity” arguments don’t seem to jibe—do they and Mounk just didn’t connect them in this early draft? Also, OT re the essay itself.
This is all borne out by the data.
A bold point followed … by an utter lack of any data, just a vague reference to “studies” and then Mounk quotes … a memoir?
But the thing I truly hate about the college essay is not that it is part of a system that keeps deserving kids out of top colleges
How is Mounk defining “deserving,” grades and scores and awards? That would make for very boring classes full of “perfect” achievers. I assume Mounk is referring to “deserving” in terms of “meritocracy,” a term that has come to be almost universally viewed as positive but was meant as anything but that by British sociologist and activist Michael Dunlop Young, who coined it back in 1958 (feel free to refer to Wikipedia this one time, but never use as a source!). Before we lionize meritocracy, it’s important to ask who wrote these standardized tests and developed the curriculum, who set the bars that define “merit”? White men of means and taste, of course. Thus the “merit”-based admissions system Mounk seems to crave is predicated on race and class. The income bracket and school district one is born into (Buffett, et al) define whether one has access to the resources to develop this “merit,” which really does belong in scare quotes. Also, were he a client, I would strongly encourage Mounk to avoid “truly” (which appears five times—it almost never adds anything and we only have 650 words to work with!)
... while rewarding privileged kids who (to add insult to injury) get to flatter themselves that they have been selected for showcasing such superior personality in their 750-word statements composed by their college consultant or ghostwritten by ChatGPT.”
I’m hard-pressed to understand Mounk's disgust here. Does he believe that Zach Y. should have been rewarded for his mediocre writing (which reads as possibly AI-aided in parts) and dismissive attitude? Or that he should have been admitted based on his 34 ACT (which really isn’t that great a score for the schools he applied to—again, even a rant should be factually defensible) and the millions of dollars he’s supposedly earned? Should college-bound 6th graders start focusing on how to garner a seven-figure income by the time they turn 17 instead of learning how to write a good personal essay? I suppose there’s an argument for that, but I would never make it.
In the end, truly talented kids like Zach are going to be just fine; he’ll still have plenty of educational opportunities at the less prestigious schools to which he was admitted.
Does Mounk mean “truly alented” (grades! scores! money!) compared to the “falsely” talented kids who’ve been avid game-designers and streamers, or sneaker heads, or dedicated volunteer tutors or coaches, or worked at McDonald's throughout high school (recent great essay topics I’ve helped clients develop)? Branding the schools Yadegari was admitted to as “less prestigious” is also more than a bit misleading. He was accepted by three schools with extremely low admissions rates, and not admitted to others with even lower ones. That’s just how it goes for nearly everyone aiming that high. He wrote an essay that likely alienated nearly every reader despite their best intentions to read generously. Perhaps he should have given that some more thought—“consider your reader” is one of the first pieces of advice I give—or hired one of us wretched admissions coaches with all that bitcoin he has lying around. When it comes down to it, Zach’s essay is actually a terrific example of the value of the admissions essay to applicants and schools alike. It can weed out bright but disingenuous, intellectually disengaged young men like Zach, who, while they may someday serve a university by making a hefty donation to be able to see their name etched in stone on a building, otherwise contribute nothing. I’m sure the admissions readers appreciated the young man’s frankness in utterly dismissing a college education for most of the essay before a late, cursory, cliche u-turn (that also feels AI-aided): “College, I came to realize, is more than a mere right [sic] of passage….” His essay helped admissions offices do their jobs more efficiently.
Rather, what I truly hate about the college essay is the way in which it shapes the lives of high school students and encourages the whole elite stratum of society—including some of its most affluent, privileged and sheltered members—to conceive of themselves in terms of the hardships they have supposedly suffered…. It is the bizarre spectacle of those kids from comparatively privileged backgrounds being effectively coerced by the admissions system to self-exoticize as products of great hardship which I find to be truly unseemly.
But I thought showcasing taste and charm was what Mounk truly hates about it. Perhaps the two can dovetail, but it’s hard for this reader to see how. In his revision, perhaps Mounk could also explain more clearly the “effective coercion" aspect of “the system” and drop the vagueness—claiming that the essay itself, earlier, and now “the admissions system” are somehow active agents of societal ruin reads more like a conspiracy theorist’s manifesto than a rant—a subtle distinction, to be fair.
The fundamental problem with it isn’t that it arbitrarily excludes some highly talented individuals like Zach from positions of power and privilege; it’s that it drains the souls of teenagers and encourages a deeply pernicious brand of fakery and breeds widespread mistrust in social elites.
I’m still not sure where Mounk is finding the “deserving” and “talented” aspects of Zach Y’s profile beyond his unverified and ostentatious brags. Or how writing an essay drains a soul. And the young man simply hasn’t been excluded from anything except for a dozen schools with fancy names and admissions rates between 4 and 10%. The best admissions essays do precisely the opposite of what Mounk asserts, in fact.They are unique, authentic, and introduce the actual human who hopes to join a freshman class. In fact, they sometimes help young people find their souls. A counselor/essay coach’s role, at least as I practice it, is more akin to a creative-writing workshop instructor’s—helping young people write self-reflexively, in a casual, conversational voice, often for the first time in their lives.
The American education system has huge problems, especially regarding the financial barrier to college, which has skyrocketed almost beyond imagination, all but killing whatever was once achievable as the American Dream. The college-admissions essay, is, sadly, the only personal aspect remaining in the college-application process. As such, it would be a shame to lose, but that’s likely to happen in the coming decade in the name of efficiency and cost-cutting. When that day happens, the brash entrepreneurs with mere 34 composite ACT scores Mounk seems to crave won’t nearly make the Ivy cut, even without the essay to expose them. Instead, Mounk will find himself lecturing to a classroom full of flawless, homogeneous, “meritorious” achievers.
