A law applicant (now a qualified lawyer and LNAT coach) reflects on the LNAT essay and shares practical advice for writing well in 40 minutes.
<p>I'm Leslie. I sat the LNAT as an applicant, and I now coach students for it as a qualified lawyer, so I've seen the essay section from both ends. It's the part of the test people most often underestimate, partly because it feels like something you can't revise for. You can, in the sense that matters. Here's what the essay was really like for me, and the approach I'd give anyone facing it.</p><p><strong>Why the essay feels like a gamble</strong></p><p>I'll be honest, I was nervous, and some of that is because essay writing carries a genuine element of luck. You're hoping for one of the three or four prompts to play to what you already think about. The bigger shock, though, was the clock. At A-level I was used to an hour and a half for an essay. The LNAT gives you 40 minutes. That compression changes how you have to work, because there's no room to write your way towards a point. You have to arrive already knowing it.</p><p><strong>The prompt I was given</strong></p><p>Mine was: "The media should be controlled. The problem is who should control it. Discuss." A statement like that is an invitation to push back, not to nod along, and recognising that is half the battle.</p><p><strong>How I approached it</strong></p><p>I opened by questioning the assumption baked into the prompt, that media control is necessary at all. I argued that much of what we tend to blame on the media actually grows out of deeper roots, things like family and upbringing, rather than media influence acting on its own. Then I turned on the word "control" itself. What would it even mean in practice? Who could be trusted with it? Is "control" the right frame, rather than something like accountability or regulation? Interrogating the terms of the question, instead of rushing to answer it, gave the essay a spine to hang arguments on and stopped it becoming a list of opinions.</p><p><strong>Why planning beats rewriting</strong></p><p>The single most useful thing I did was plan, even with the clock running. It feels wrong to spend precious minutes not writing, but a clear plan stops you writing yourself into a corner and then having to unpick it, which is where people really lose time. Before I wrote a sentence of the actual essay, I knew my line of argument and the two or three points that would carry it.</p><p><strong>A rough way to spend the 40 minutes</strong></p><p>You won't hit any timing perfectly, but going in with a rough plan stops the minutes vanishing. What worked for me was something like:</p><ol><li>5 to 8 minutes planning: decide your line and your main points</li><li>25 to 30 minutes writing</li><li>a few minutes at the end to read it back and fix the obvious slips</li></ol><p>Aim for a clear introduction that states your line, a handful of paragraphs that each make and defend one point, and a conclusion that comes down somewhere while acknowledging the other side.</p><p><strong>Read widely so you're not empty-handed</strong></p><p>There's no shortcut around reading. The more you've read and argued about beforehand, current affairs, some ethics, a bit of politics, the more examples and counterpoints you can reach for under pressure, rather than staring at a blank page hoping something arrives. Reading is how you stock the cupboard before exam day empties it.</p><p><strong>What examiners want, and common mistakes</strong></p><p>Remember the essay isn't marked centrally, it's sent to the universities you apply to, so it's a real writing sample they'll read. They want to see structured, balanced argument that still commits to a view. The usual mistakes are giving a one-sided rant, spending so long planning that the essay is unfinished, forgetting to actually answer the question amid all your interesting tangents, and writing a conclusion that simply repeats the introduction. Say something at the end that the essay has earned.</p><p><strong>Why it mirrors law at university</strong></p><p>Something clicked for me only later. The LNAT essay is basically a rehearsal for the way law exams work at university: a tight window, a provocative statement, and a demand that you argue clearly and fairly on both sides before landing somewhere. Getting good at it now isn't just about passing a test, it's practice for the degree itself.</p><p><strong>Final thoughts</strong></p><p>The LNAT essay rewards a clear head more than a lucky prompt. Plan before you write, interrogate the question rather than rushing at it, argue both sides, and commit to a line at the end. Practise under the clock and read widely, and it stops feeling like a gamble and starts feeling like a skill. If you'd like coaching on your LNAT essays, with feedback on structure and argument, that's something I offer through Oxbridge Solution.</p>