So, Nora, I was looking at the new LSAC percentile data for the twenty twenty-three
to twenty twenty-six testing cycle, and, uh, it is wild.
For decades, if you got a one hundred and seventy on the LSAT,
you were in the ninety-seventh percentile.
Period.
It was your golden ticket to a top fourteen law school.
But now?
That same one hundred and seventy has plummeted to the ninety-four point fifth
percentile.
It is, um, it is a completely different landscape.
Ninety-four point fifth?
Wait, Adrian, that is a massive drop for what used to be the gold standard.
I mean, if a one seventy is down there, what happened to a score like,
say, a one hundred and sixty?
Oh, a one sixty got hit even harder.
It used to put you comfortably in the low eighties.
Now?
It is down to the seventy-first percentile.
The, the whole curve has shifted to the right.
It is classic score inflation.
Okay, so let me guess.
This has everything to do with them finally killing off the Analytical Reasoning
section, right?
No more Logic Games as of August twenty twenty-four.
Exactly.
The games were a mechanical barrier.
You had to learn how to diagram, how to do, uh, well, basically fake math.
It weeded out a lot of humanities majors who had great verbal skills but struggled
with formal setup under time pressure.
Without that bottleneck, we have seen a massive wave of high-scoring applicants.
In fact, in twenty twenty-five, there was a staggering forty-two point two percent
surge in applicants applying with scores between one hundred and seventy-five to one
hundred and eighty compared to just the year before.
Forty-two point two percent?
That is ridiculous.
Okay, so in plain English, it is like a high school that suddenly decides to drop
its notoriously brutal AP Calculus requirement.
Suddenly, everyone's grade point average shoots up, right?
But because everyone is getting an A, having an A ceases to mean anything to
colleges.
The admissions officers are looking at this giant stack of perfect GPAs and going,
great, now how do we actually tell these people apart?
That is a perfect analogy.
It is applicant compression.
When everyone has a high score, the score itself loses its power to differentiate
you.
It reminds me of my time in the courtroom.
If you are a litigator, and the evidentiary standard suddenly gets raised,
you, you cannot just show up with the same old decent pile of documents.
If the opposition has a mountain of evidence, your standard proof is not going to
cut it.
You have to find an entirely new way to make your argument stand out.
Right, because if you show up with a one seventy now, the admissions committee is
looking at you like, okay, you and half the applicant pool.
So, if we cannot rely on the old score brackets to carry us,
how do we actually survive this new world?
Well, that is the real kicker.
Under the old format, you could brute-force your way to a perfect minus zero on
Logic Games.
It was highly learnable.
You drill it, you get perfect at it, and that became your safety net.
If you missed a few on Logical Reasoning or Reading Comprehension because of some
subjective, tricky phrasing, the games saved you.
But now?
Logical Reasoning makes up sixty-six percent of your scored exam.
That cushion is gone.
Your margin of error on LR is virtually zero.
Which is terrifying because Logical Reasoning feels like natural language.
You read a short paragraph, you think you understand it, and you go to the answer
choices.
It is so easy to fall into this trap of just doing thousands of questions on a
spreadsheet, thinking you are studying, when you are really just...
pattern matching.
It is passive.
Yes!
The, the spreadsheet approach.
People list the question subtype, they make a checklist, and they think they are
doing the work.
But near-perfect LR accuracy requires deep semantic analysis.
You have to do what we call a Socratic review.
Before you even look at those five answer choices, you need to reconstruct the exact
logical gap between the premises and the conclusion in your own words.
If you cannot explain the flaw to a ten-year-old, you do not understand the
question.
So, basically, stop looking for quick tricks and actually do the hard work of
translating the argument.
It is like, uh, instead of just memorizing what a bad argument looks like,
you have to actively dissect why it is broken.
But, Adrian, do you think this makes the test, I don't know,
fundamentally unfair?
There is this weird tension.
On one hand, dropping the games makes the LSAT more accessible because you do not
have to learn this bizarre, proprietary game system.
But on the other hand, that accessibility has made actually getting a competitive
percentile score harder than it has ever been.
It is a massive paradox.
It is more accessible, yet far more brutal.
And let us not forget the actual testing environment.
If your margin of error is this thin, even a minor hiccup can ruin your score.
I tell all my students now, you have to practice under simulated,
high-stress Prometric conditions.
A laggy user interface, a slow proctor checking your room, a three-second delay when
you click next, those tiny things eat away at your time.
And when you cannot afford to lose a single point, those seconds are everything.
Ugh, that UI lag is real.
It is a completely different game now.
Well, I guess the takeaway is clear.
If you are aiming for the top, the old rules are dead.
You cannot just coast on a one seventy anymore.
Exactly.
Get ready to sweat the details.
Alright, good chatting, Nora, talk soon.
Yep, see ya.