A Distorted Reality.

It’s more than uncommon for anything to serve to demoralise me to any extent, but the existence of the necessity of a supposedly ‘personal’ statement in the UCAS university application process. The word ‘personal’ in ‘personal statement’ surely implies that the statement should be a reflection of the whole of the writer’s personality: instead, it is found that the preference of the staff responsible for handling the reviewing of personal statements is for a wonderfully apparent coached, formulaic approach - the ideal of perfection here being a strict adherence to what is perceived to ‘work’. It follows that if this approach is taken with my school, it’s likely to be a policy followed by others. It’s at this point that I thank the Lord that I am not a University admissions tutor: the sheer drudgery of reading through what will be thousands of applications with the same rudimentary structure would be enough to make me consider an intimate acquaintance with the protein synthesis-restricting siren of ricin sleep.

I want to be different, I’ll make no mistakes about making this clear: I want to stand out. I want my application to be at the top of Cambridge’s, Edinburgh’s, London School of Economics’, Durham’s, and York’s acceptance piles, and I can’t possibly see how this could ever happen with a woefully generic and dreadfully impersonal personal statement. If this is personal, I should have free reign over stating opinions; thoughts on my chosen subjects. It just follows from the title of the assigned piece. Regardless of this triumph of common sense and semantics in the pursuit of a definition for what a personal statement should be, I’ve been advised against talking about my views on things that I’ve seen or read whilst still mentioning them and their relevance to my degree course: this supposed personal statement, it would seem, is to be little more than a reading list with a summary preface of my initial interest for the subject and a closing paragraph restating my interest.

The only things that remain personal about the misnamed exercise are the glancing (as detail is a bad thing here, clearly) references to extracurricular activity and the overworked examples of school participation bound to make you popular within the offices of academics reviewing your application: these people would just love to meet more who share their love for ‘arranging’ (ie, ‘holding a signing-up sheet’) charity events. All for a good cause, of course: not just a cynical look forward to a future where mentioning such selfless acts may serve as beneficial. And still, this says nothing about anyone personally: some are bound to have the same hobbies; similar experiences. The words ‘Duke of Edinburgh’ must be amongst the most reviled in admissions circles purely for their unrelenting frequency of appearance.

So, what did I do wrong, according to several reviewers of my work? The results of one can be seen here: FRONT and BACK.

• I stated my opinion and reviewed two sides of the National Identity Register arguments, rather than stating relevant books and documentaries I had seen on the subject. I would hope that an admissions tutor would be far more interested in your opinions rather than those recycled from celluloid and pulp.
• I mentioned my socioeconomic background: a background which has served in no small part in the formation of my current character, philosophy and my hopes for social mobility.
• I was criticised for my lack of specificity in relation to my reference to British interference in the Russian civil war, just before being criticised for being overly verbose on the issue of the National Identity Register. I’m either missing a balance here, or it’s six-of-one, half-a-dozen-of-the-other.
• I made several linguistic follies; criticism here was just.

If all personal statements follow the structure and content which it was recommended to me that mine should, the entire implementation of the concept of a personal statement is flawed at best; something verging on a nihilism at worst: a history of reading/watching combined with general statements about an interest in the applicable subject is hardly enough to base a character judgement on. Combine this with the fact that for many courses, many universities do not interview, and it’s fair to assume that many who would not necessarily be desired by a University are going to find their way into a place unsuitable for them. Besides, it’s far too easy to lie on a personal statement: you’ll only truly get caught out if you make the heinous mistake of trying to continue a lie through an interview with someone who is far, far more qualified than you in the subjects concerned.

It’s hard enough to get passion across in 4,000 characters or 47 lines: restrictions on your statement’s exploration of why and for what you have the fervour which compels you to apply for a given course through ’suggested’ structures does not make it any easier, and just increases the potential for sounding pretentious and/or arrogant, if the admissions tutor can even find the will to work his way through yet another personal-statement-by-numbers.