Oh, god.
A spreadsheet.
Adrian, you are speaking directly to my dark, obsessive past.
When I was self-studying, I had a forty-column Google Sheet.
I had columns for "conditional necessary assumption," "causal weaken,"
"flaw with-with conditional elements."
I spent hours color-coding it.
I thought I was being so- so scientific.
Right, and that is exactly the trap.
I call it "data sickness."
Students spend, what, three hours cataloging and- and color-coding a practice test,
and maybe thirty minutes actually analyzing why they got the questions wrong.
It's admin work masquerading as actual studying.
You feel like you're making progress because the dashboard looks beautiful.
Yes!
It's a massive dopamine hit.
You're like, "Look at me, I'm- I'm diagnosing my systemic weaknesses."
But- but wait, the worksheet is literally designed to track performance by question
subtype.
Are you saying LSAC is giving bad advice here?
Not bad advice, just...
easily misused.
Think of it like a deposition.
If you're a litigator, and you're questioning a witness who is dodging your
question, you don't stop the deposition to- to consult a chart and say,
"Ah, yes, that's a classic ad hominem subtype 4B."
No!
You don't care about the academic label.
You just spot the gap.
You see that their evidence doesn't actually support their claim,
and you press them on it.
The LSAT is the same.
The test rewards finding the logical skeleton, not decorating a dashboard with
micro-classifications.
Okay, so- so instead of agonizing over whether a question is a
"strengthen-with-sufficient-premise" or whatever, I just need to ask,
"Why does this argument fail to prove its conclusion?"
Exactly.
If you can't find the premise and the conclusion, and the specific gap between them,
all the spreadsheet columns in the world won't save you on test day.
Alright, so if we're throwing away the forty-column spreadsheet,
how do we actually fix the mistakes?
Because when I was reviewing on LawHub, I'd miss a question,
look at the correct answer, and go, "Oh, obviously.
Yeah, B makes total sense.
I see it now."
And then I'd move on.
But then, surprise surprise, I'd make the exact same mistake on the next PT.
Right, because that "oh, that makes sense" reaction is a cognitive illusion.
It's passive recognition.
You're just validating the test-makers' work.
You're- you're essentially saying, "Yes, I agree that the correct answer is indeed
correct."
But you didn't do the heavy lifting of finding it yourself.
You didn't build any new neural pathways.
So how do we force those pathways to actually, you know, build?
You use what I call the "No-Look" reconstruction.
When you review a missed question, you cover the answer choices entirely.
Do not look at them.
You go back to the stimulus, and you write down, in plain English-no formal logic
symbols, just normal speech-what the premise is, what the conclusion is,
and then you declare the logical gap yourself.
You write down: "This argument assumes that just because X happened,
Y must cause it."
Only when you have written that down do you let yourself look at the choices to find
the one that matches your prediction.
I actually did a version of this!
Once I realized the spreadsheets weren't working, I started explaining the logical
gaps out loud to my dog, Buster.
If I couldn't explain to a golden retriever why the author was being an idiot,
I didn't actually understand the flaw.
It- it felt ridiculous, but my score shot up like five points in three weeks.
Buster is the ultimate LSAT tutor.
But seriously, that is the work.
Now, I will concede one thing on the Strategy Booster.
If you use their data to spot broad, systemic collapses-like,
"Hey, every time conditional logic shows up, I panic"-that's useful.
You can use LawHub's free drills to target that.
But don't let it paralyze you.
When the clock is ticking down in a Prometric testing room,
you cannot be running a taxonomic classification system in your head.
You just need to find the gap.
Right.
Don't classify the beast.
Just, uh, shoot it.
Or, you know, point out its logical flaws.
Alright, I'm going to go pet Buster.
Good chatting, Adrian.
Talk soon, Nora.