1. Thinking that if you underline it, you’ll remember it. Annotating passages works very well for many people, and I usually encourage it, or at least that people try it. But I like to suggest alternative annotation methods to underlining for two reasons: (1) underlines (particularly in pencil) are harder than circles and squares and scribbles to spot later on, when you need to return to the passage to re-read a portion of it, and (2) underliners have the liberty of being less choosy about what they underline. If you are a circler, you have to choose which words to circle. If you are an underliner, you could–and many people do–underline a whole paragraph if you wanted. Since the purposes of annotating are (1) to help you understand the passage better as you read it, and (2) to make yourself a “map” to use later when you have to return to it, don’t fall for the trap of believing that if you underline, you’re safe. You probably aren’t optimizing your annotation practice.

2. Believing that if you don’t look at the time, it’s not passing. How many times have you thought, “If I just had thirteen minutes on this passage, I could get them all right!” Sometimes, we can become so determined to “get them all right” that we turn off our sense of time passing. It’s a form of stubbornness: I’m not moving on until I get this one, because I know I can! This attitude is an asset to a certain extent; it keeps you motivated to push forward on the hard ones, and it indicates a healthy confidence. But there’s a time to cut bait, and you won’t know it if you’re determined not to look at the clock. If it’s been two minutes and you’re not making progress (or maybe not even that long, depending on how the section is going for you), bid the doozie adieu and take a guess, wild or educated (or infuriated). There are more, faster points to be had.

3. Mistakenly focus on what you don’t know on hard passages. You’ve reached the third paragraph of “the hard” passage, and all you can think about is how little of it you’ve understood so far. You’re so focused on what you haven’t understood, you’re not at all thinking about what you have understood. In my experience, this is where many students become their own worst enemies in reading comp; they don’t realize that they actually understand more than they think, and that if they focus on what they do get, they’ll not only be more likely to answer some questions correctly, they’ll be less anxious, which will make their overall mental state stronger for the rest of the passage, the section, and the test overall. Sure, hard passages stink, and knowing all that you don’t know is terrifying. But there is some that you can get: what is the general subject matter, and what does the author think about it–is she pro, con, or neutral? Who disagrees? What are a few key terms, and are they defined? Ask yourself these questions, arm yourself with the basic answers, and move forward.

The LSAT is an exam uniquely suited to make studying difficult.  Despite the fact that you’ve successfully made it (or almost made it) through college exams, many people find that they study and study but don’t improve their LSAT score.  The simple reason behind that is the LSAT is designed to test how you think, not what you know or even how you apply what you know.  Beware of failing into these very common, and very useless, studying strategies.

1.       Taking every test you can find

I have to admit, when I first started studying for the LSAT, I started by buying a book with 10 LSATs in it and plowing through them all, one every other day or so.  My score on the last test was virtually identical to my score on the first test.  The reason this strategy fails so completely is that the LSAT is designed to monitor whether and to what extent you can think logically.  Repeatedly measuring this is just like stepping on the scale every day and not understand why you’re not losing weight.

2.       Cramming the night (or month) before

Logical thinking is not something that can be learned quickly.  It requires significant analytical skills, both about the argument and about your own thought processes.  Because it is a difficult and complex skill set, it’s not something that can be learned quickly.  You can certainly pick up a few tricks and improve your score somewhat in a short time span, but to really excel, you need to invest a large chunk of time.  Think of this process as similar to learning a physical skill.  You can’t become a pro basketball star by practicing non-stop for the month before a game.  The skills build gradually and with concentrated effort over time.

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Could believe Lady Gaga and the LSAT have something in common?!

I recently had a conversation with a student about what he refers to as “sleeper rules” in games. Sleeper rules are the rules that don’t jive with the rest of the rules. They’re the odd man out, the lone ranger. In a Western, they’d be mavericks. On a playground, they’d be last picked. They’re Lady Gaga in the 2000s and Madonna in the ’80s. They’re the green circle next to the four blue … You get it.

We see sleeper rules all over the places in games, but a really good example is the standalone numbered-ordering rule in a relative ordering game: you are given seven rules, say, and six of them are relative (“X is before Y but after V”). The last one is not. It reads, “V can’t be third.” How many of you have gotten to a rule like this–one that you cannot easily incorporate into your diagram–and decided, I’ll just keep it in my head? Aha! Caught!

My guess is that it’s come back to bite you in the bum, as the ol’ “just keeping it in my head” is known to do in logic games.

While it may be your intuition to just keep it in your head, for most of us the best way to handle sleeper rules is actually to do the opposite. Rules that don’t conform to the expectations of the whole game should generally be treated like royalty. Give them a prominent spot on the page, circle them, underline them, shine a giant spotlight on them–that is, make them graphically obvious, and do so close to your diagram. In the example above, this might mean putting a big slash over “3” underneath the V in your diagram, or a big “V NOT THIRD!” note alongside it.

Obvious, nonconforming rules should be notated in the same way: conspicuously. This is the safest way to handle them.

In flaw questions, you’ll often see an answer choice that reads, [the argument ignores the possibility that] “even if [blah blah blah], X will happen.” How to understand this sentence?

The “even if” in an answer choice to a flaw question is referring to a premise. The part that comes after the “even if” is going to be a premise of the argument. Think about it–“even if” is a way of saying, “we accept that this is true.” What do we accept as true in assumption family arguments? Premises!

Since “even if’s” often appear after question stems that read, “The argument ignores the possibility” or “The argument fails to consider,” note that these phrases are referring to the part of the answer choice that the “even if” is not modifying.

So if you have the argument:

It’s sunny outside –> Samantha won’t take her umbrella today

… and one of the answer choices is, “The argument ignores the possibility that, even if it’s sunny outside, Samantha could still be carrying an umbrella.” The part that’s being ignored is: that Samantha could still be carrying an umbrella. The premise is: it’s sunny outside.
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You’ve seen this type of question on recent tests. It offers a Principle followed by an Application of that Principle. The question stem then asks you something about the relationship between the two. Preptest 61, section 4, question 19 for example asks, “Which of the following, if true, justifies the above application of the principle?” Same with PT 65, section 1, question 14; PT 63, section 1, question 18; and PT 67, section 2, question 5 (not an exhaustive list).

Don't be fooled by clever LR disguises

Other questions accompanying the Principle + Application pairing have included, “The application of the principle is most vulnerable to criticism on the grounds that…” (PT 64, section 1, question 2) and “From which of the following sets of facts can the conclusion be properly drawn using the principle?” (PT 63, section 3, question 22).

How can we think about these questions?

First off, do you notice anything familiar about any of the question stems quoted above? You should–you’ve seen them all before. The question in the first paragraph–the one with the word “justify”–resembles a strengthen question. The latter two a flaw question (“vulnerable to criticism”) and sufficient assumption question (“can the conclusion be properly drawn”), respectively.

For this reason, one way to think about these Principle-Application questions is to view them as assumption family questions. There is a gap between the principle and its application; you’re asked something about that gap. Do you want to help close it (strengthen the relationship)? Identify it (find the flaw)? Or close it completely (find the sufficient assumption)? Thinking of these questions this way will enable you to be prepared for unexpected questions, too. What if you were told to weaken the connection? Or find a necessary assumption in the application? Approaching this type of question the way you already know how–because you understand assumption family questions–will also hopefully spare you “ah! Not a new question type!” anxiety.

Shortcuts are few and far between on the LSAT

LSAT students in our courses often come in asking for “rules” or “shortcuts” that will enable them to learn the “tricks” of the test. We don’t really do teach “tricks and gimmicks” at Manhattan LSAT, and I try to convey early on that this way of thinking about the test isn’t all that useful. The LSAT is teachable, but it’s teachable in a way that doesn’t involve foolproof rules that serve as substitutes for thinking, like “whenever you see the word ‘all,’ the answer is wrong,” or “a conclusion with the word ‘should’ will never be correct to this kind of question.”

Beware of people who give you categorical rules like these. Or at least beware of the rules (the people probably don’t bite). When it comes to the LSAT, rarely is there going to be an absolute rule that you can apply mechanically and still be 100% confident in its application.

That said, if you were to come across a flaw question, say on preptest 42, section 2, around question 15, and there were an answer choice that read, “contains a premise that cannot possibly be true,” and you were skeptical because you thought, “Wait, I don’t think we analyze the validity of premises on their own–we analyze the reasoning between them and the conclusion… so can an answer choice like this ever be right?” you’d be on to something.

Flaws in logical reasoning are reasoning flaws; they aren’t flaws in the plausibility of a standalone premise. So I feel confident saying it: don’t choose this answer to a flaw question. But I’m going to add this caveat: still think as you do it. If you find one I’m wrong about, let me know. I’ll buy you a beer.

Last week I headed to Costa Rica to learn how to surf. It was my first time surfing. Not to brag, but on my first day my instructor told me I was very good. I then tried jokingly asking if I was the best student he ever had and he answered quite seriously, “No.”

Mary hangs ten in Costa Rica

“Very good” as in I was standing on the board and riding small waves (want proof? That’s a photo of me from last week). But my second and third days were less successful–early on day two, I lost some of the confidence my instructor’s compliment had instilled. Once I’d fallen two or three times, I became convinced I hadn’t in fact learned how to get up on the board and stay there.

After two afternoons of swallowing gallons of sea water, annoyed at myself for losing my game, I listened to my instructor’s advice: I needed to trust myself. I’d become convinced I was going to fall and so I would.

This lesson applies to the LSAT. I sometimes ask students to imagine themselves scoring 170 (or 175, or 180… whatever the target score). What does it feel like? How did they do it? Believing in oneself isn’t just about hoping that it’ll happen–it’s about trusting that you’re actually capable of getting what you want, and a way to do that is to picture yourself having already done or doing it.

If you’re convinced you’re not going to do well, chances are you won’t. But if you become convinced that you are, you might. Obviously acquiring the skills and knowledge to accomplish certain tasks is also critical–but alone it’s unlikely to be sufficient if you don’t actually see yourself as capable of reaching your goal.

Try this: imagine you just scored your goal on the LSAT–the official one. Write down how it feels. Write down how you did it. Start with, “I’m so thrilled that…” If you want to be super cheesy, hang it on your mirror (next to your “You are beautiful” mantra). What’s to lose?

Have you ever given birth to a baby? I have. And I did it along with some fellow LSAT geeks here at Manhattan LSAT. We are very proud to bring the world LSAT Interact! What the heck is LSAT Interact? In short, it’s a self-study course built on interactive videos (click on answer (D) and you go here, click on answer (B) and you go somewhere else). We are so incredibly excited for this to be done. But let me take you on a short trip down a timeline of how this all went down:

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Pulitzer Prize-winning playwright David Mamet’s recent gun control rant in Newsweek drew ample criticism for making no sense whatsoever, disappointing some (including me) who like his plays. It’s an illogical essay–not illogical by nerdy LSAT standards, but nonsensical by pretty much everyone’s real world standards, regardless of your views on gun control. (Read his paragraph on arming criminals so they’ll accidentally shoot themselves–then read it again, and again.) So it’s not really fair that I’m about to shred his logic–in the sense that it’s kicking a guy when he’s down, or a sick puppy. But as it’s a puppy with several Tony and Oscar nominations who is apparently packing heat, I think he’s fine.

Find the flaws in these arguments of Mamet’s.

1. “As rules by the Government are one-size-fits-all, any governmental determination of an individual’s abilities must be based on a bureaucratic assessment of the lowest possible denominator.”

Core: One size fits all → Lowest possible denominator

Flaw: This argument expects we have any idea what a “one size fits all” rule is and what a “lowest common denominator” person is, but as we do in logical reasoning, let’s accept these terms on their face. What’s being assumed?

The gap that jumps out to me is the assumption that something made to fit everyone is going to be something tailored to the person at the extreme end. But think about what “one size fits all” actually means–not XXXXL, because that’s not “fitting.” Those OSFA tags you only see, in fact, on average sizes. Think about trying on a hat in a store, or a pair of gloves, or a t-shirt. It’s not a great fit for most of us. It’s not a horrible fit for most of us. It’s designed to fit the average person. If “one size fits all” actually meant the smallest person or largest person, it would in fact fit very few of us.

2. “Violence by firearms is most prevalent in big cities with the strictest gun laws. Cities of similar size in Texas, Florida, Arizona, and elsewhere, which leave the citizen the right to keep and bear arms, guaranteed in the Constitution, typically are much safer. More legal guns equal less crime.”

Core: Cities with stricter laws have more violence + cities with less stringent laws have less → More legal guns equals less crime

Flaw: Makin’ it easy for us, Mamet! Just because everyone with big feet is smarter than everyone with little feet doesn’t mean that big feet make you smarter. It means we’re adults and educated; five-year-olds are still eating glue and pooping in their pants. In this particular argument of Mamet’s (which may also be flawed empirically, but again we’re concerned with his logic), reverse causation could very well be in play. Maybe the cities with more violence have stricter laws because they are more violent and need them?

3. “Will increased cosmetic measures make anyone safer? They, like all efforts at disarmament, will put the citizenry more at risk. Disarmament rests on the assumption that all people are good and basically want the same things.”

Core: Disarmament rests on the assumption that people are good and basically want the same things → Increased gun control will increase risk

Flaw: This argument assumes that if people are not good or don’t basically want the same things, increased gun control will increase danger.

However, say we aren’t good and don’t want the same things (I certainly don’t want to shoot innocent people, but others apparently do), and a particular “effort at disarmament” makes it hard enough for the “bad” people to arm themselves such that it leads to less total gun violence? Mamet would say this is impossible, but that’s a convenient (and necessary) assumption.

In conclusion, the man probably shouldn’t teach the LSAT. I’d say he won’t ever have to, but you never know.

Nice Guys Finish Last

We’ve all had a friend (or even a really close friend… so close they’re just like us, same name and same height and everything) who breaks up with someone and says, “But he’s/she’s so nice! I must not want to date nice people–what’s wrong with me?”

Whenever I hear this, it strikes me as an opportunity to give a short logic lesson, which I sometimes do, to mixed results.

Recall our classic illustration of a conditional sentence: if you’re in Canada, you’re in North America. We symbolize this as:

C -> NA

From this, there are other conditional statements that may be tempting to infer but are incorrect. One is that if you’re in North America you’re in Canada (not true–you could be in Minnesota):

NA –> C (FALSE!)

The other is that if you’re not in Canada then you’re not in North America (now you’re in Mexico–Minnesota was too cold):

~C –> ~NA (FALSE!)

The one inference we can make from that first statement is that if you’re not in North America, you’re not in Canada:

~NA –> ~C (TRUE.)

How might “omigosh-I-must-only-have-crushes-on-horrible-humans-since-I-find-one-decent-human-boring” fit this model?

Pause here to think about this on your own. When you’re ready read on. (It’s more useful to practice yourself than to go straight into reading the answer.)

Ready? Okay.

While it’s true that if you aren’t interested in nice people, you won’t be interested in this nice person:

~Nice People –> ~This Nice Person

… the omigosh statement would be broken down as:

~This Nice Person –> ~Nice People

How do these compare? It’s the same as flipping Canada and North America and saying that if you’re in North America you’re in Canada. It’s false.

There are many nice fish in the sea, and not liking one of them doesn’t mean you don’t like all of them.

Note: this particular pep talk may draw yawns, eye rolls, or expressions of concern (“Jim, please stop studying for the LSAT, you’re not behaving normally”), but it’s true nonetheless. And your more logic-minded friends may appreciate it.