As with all advice on the internet, there are important caveats and information that must be shared to understand individuals’ biases and opinions. Here is my attempt to disclose everything that would be relevant for someone reviewing these posts.
These posts, writings, etc. do not, in any way, reflect the opinions of the University of Utah, University of Utah School of Medicine, or University of Utah MD-PhD program. These are PERSONAL opinions based on my assessment of applicants and participation on admissions committees.
Following these suggestions does not guarantee your acceptance into medical school. The goal of these posts is to inform potential applicants of what one reviewer (myself) thinks makes a competitive application and some of my personal experiences in the admissions process.
All of these documents are live documents and will be updated routinely to reflect current standards; however, there may be circumstances where the text is not updated based on the most recent application guidelines. It is your responsibility to have the most up to date guidelines and requirements from medical schools.
Use these guides and suggestions AT YOUR OWN RISK! I want to be as helpful as possible. At the end of the day, I am not responsible for your success when applying for medical school.
I am currently an MD-PhD student at the University of Utah in the School of Medicine and receiving my PhD from the Biomedical Engineering Department. I graduated from the University of Utah with a BS in Biomedical Engineering and entered immediately into the MD-PhD program.
Like many other students, during my preparation, I was also stressed, anxious, and driven to the point of insanity. However, I had the fortune of excellent mentors and teachers who helped guide and direct me through the maze of medical school admissions.
In particular, a close friend had been a member of an admissions committee and shared his thoughts about the application process, the requirements for application, and how I should structure my application. I met with him 3 years before I applied to school, and that was BY FAR the best thing I ever did. He helped me understand where my application was weak (yes that early) and needed improvement and where it was strong. I then had time to go back, review my material, and significantly expand my experiences. We met several times throughout undergrad and talked about many of the subtleties of applying to medical school, interviewing, and the mechanics of medical school education.
I recognize that meeting with this person and all of the other amazing mentors I have is a unique privilege not afforded to everyone. Rather than continue the privilege cycle in medicine, I would like to unmask what I know and share the things I have learned in my short time.
I don’t know of a quantifiable metric that qualifies me to give advice and feedback about the medical school admissions process; therefore, I have to suggest my own:
I have helped over 20 students complete their application for medical school in the form of written feedback, comments, or conversations. Don’t ask how many of them got into medical school after my comments. I have no idea, nor do I have any idea if my comments made any difference whatsoever.
I have continued to apply for awards throughout the country and internationally, including my most recent award: an NIH F30 Fellowship Award. I enjoy the challenge of constructing a competitive application based on personal experiences and critical thinking that position yourself for favorable consideration to a committee of reviewers. You can review more of these on my awards page if you really care.
I have served on an MD-PhD admissions committee and been a voting member evaluating dozens, if not hundreds of applicants.
I have mentored several bioengineering undergraduate students through my active research and am a certified University of Utah Undergraduate Mentor through the Undergraduate Research and Opportunity Program (UROP).
Qualifications I don’t have:
I am not an attending physician, I don’t know how they think of applicants different than myself.
Well, that is a great question, and it is a very long list. I don’t know a lot about cloud types, deep-sea creatures, haptic force transducers …….. n+1.
Sorry, let’s stay on topic. In terms of the medical school admissions process here are the parts that I am entirely unaware of:
I do not know what the minimum GPA of students are and should be to have their application reviewed. All applications I consider have already been screened for this.
I do not know what classes you need to take to get into medical school. Again, all applications have already been screened for this.
I do not know how to study for the MCAT. I took it back in the day when it was out of 45, and the topics were very different. All I can say is good luck.
THIS IS A SUPER IMPORTANT ONE! I don’t know anything about how other schools review applicants. All I have is my experience with one school. Although, I do think my discussion points are broadly applicable to any application, even outside of medicine.
I don’t know anything about DO programs, how to apply, or what those programs are looking for.
This is a fundamental question that stops people in their tracks when they start down the medical school pathway.
Many people suggest, "well, if you want to go, maybe you should figure out how to get in!" That is a nice idea, let's unpack it. If you have ever gotten a medical school application checklist from the pre-professional office, going through the application materials in this form looks like an insurmountable task, with necessary experiences in shadowing, research, volunteer, leadership, and patient exposure. When you examine how many hours are needed for each experience, the numbers become staggering. But why do you need to do all of that? Should you just view everything as a checklist and slowly check things off throughout your undergrad career? Hint: the answer is no.
There is a better way to start thinking about medical school and taking concrete steps to apply. The crucial first step is to KNOW (not just think) that you want to go to medical school. Think is not a powerful enough conviction to survive the intense and all-consuming lifestyle that is a physician. If you only "think" you do, you don't. The rigor, intense hours, competition, and emotional stress will ultimately destroy that feeling. If someone hands you a list of things to do to get into medical school and treat it like a checklist without careful reflection, you will get an application that looks good on paper but does not have any depth. This isn't the Great British Bakeoff, and doctors aren't cookie-cutter mass-produced biscuits. Many things inspire and motivate people to be doctors, and doctors fill many different roles in certain situations such as research, volunteering, patient care, technical procedures, administration, and leadership. You must view the application requirements as a helpful guide to understand what doctors do, why you like or do not like each role, and how each experience helps you KNOW you want to be a doctor.
Oh wait, did I just list the categories for "experiences" to apply to medical school? Oh wait, and did those categories actually correspond to what doctors do in real life? Yes, yes, they do. Therefore find some opportunities to talk to doctors and ask them about their experiences. Ask them what they do and what they are passionate about in medicine. And then, go and try it out. Sure, they aren't going to hire you as dean of the department of medicine, but you can lead a local chapter or organization! Sure, you cannot apply for NIH R01 grants, but you can complete your own UROP research proposal. Each experience you participate in should add to your conviction that you "know" you want to be a doctor. And when you go to write your application, get letters of recommendation, and interview, this conviction will shine through.
An important caveat to this approach is that this first step is also the last step and everything in between. So really, there is only one step to get into medical school?
Looking through the lists from random people about all the seemingly unrelated things that you need to get into medical school is daunting. The chatter on the “student doctor network,” “reddit,” or other sources can make it seem like non-human existential creatures with infinite time and resources are the only people able to get in. Add to that the stresses of growing up, going to college, and feeding yourself, and you have an impossible mountain to climb. So what can you do to make it easier? I would suggest assembling a multidisciplinary mentorship team.
Many people have told me that I need to find a “good mentor.” The reality is that there is no “one perfect mentor,” which makes perfect sense. My PhD and undergrad advisor, Rob MacLeod, is an exceptional human. He has taught me an enormous amount about life, research, and clinical medicine. But he hasn’t ever seen patients. Therefore, I need to find others to fill those gaps and help me grow in different directions.
This is where a team is essential. During my undergraduate education I had five excellent mentors. Specifically, I had a clinical mentor, research mentor, academic mentor, service learning mentor, and leadership mentor. Each mentor has a unique way of looking at a problem based on their background experience. And each mentor has a different set of connections and collaborations that can help further you as a person in different areas.
There are TONS of articles about this online, and I am not going to go into much detail about what makes a good mentor. In my personal experience, the best relationships are based on mutual respect in which both the mentor and mentee are achieving and growing. For me, I always look for mentors that are open-minded, growth-oriented, and accomplishing new goals. You may have a different set of qualifications, depending on what you are trying to do and what gaps you need to fill on your mentorship team.
Ok, I will give an example. Most of the people on my team have a good idea of who I am where I am going. I take the time to share personal stories and goals with each of them to know what kind of opportunities I am looking for. Recently, I got a spontaneous email from a mentor (a physician) cc’ing another physician. He introduced me as one of his students who had some questions about their physician-scientist training program. This introduction was to THE DIRECTOR of the program at a prestigious institution.
Uh Wut….. ?! A personal introduction to someone my mentor had met and thought, “wow, Brian might want to talk to this person!”
This is one example of what a mentorship team can do for you beyond helping you with your active personal projects. Many of my projects, directions, and even doing an MD-PhD have been set up and guided by my mentors before I saw the opportunity.
Oh, and did I mention that these people write your letters of recommendation? Yeah, yeah, they do. And if you have a “team,” finding the right people to write good letters is simple.
I want to ask this question to simply state something important: do not walk up to a random person and ask, “will you be my mentor.” And if the point wasn’t clear enough, don’t do it in an email either. My approach will always be to prepare each new interaction with a specific goal (something technical the mentor can help with such as service engagement, shadowing, or a research question) and then broaden the scope of the conversation by asking the mentor about their lives, how they got to where they were, and what they might do differently. I start the conversations small and over time (either in the conversation or over a sequence of conversations) slowly start to expand the conversation. If they are concerned about you as a person, they will also likely ask you similar questions. This sharing and dialogue start a relationship connected both professionally and personally.
Another key is to always follow up. Mentors don’t remember to follow up with you, you need to follow up with them. And they aren’t trying to be mean because they haven’t checked in on you recently. I have several mentors that I occasionally keep in the loop via email, some I see in meetings, and some I schedule one-on-one time with. It all depends on their availability and what type of direction you are seeking from each person.
The medical school application is an absolute MONSTER! There are tons of sections and moving parts you have to coordinate. That is why it is key to get things started early.
How early, you might ask. Well, that depends on several things so let’s work backward in time:
Step 4: Submit a near-complete draft of your personal statement, CV, and specific comments you would like from your letter writers. With that information, you need to give them 1 month to write you an excellent letter of recommendation.
Step 3: Solicit feedback from SEVERAL (more than 3) people that you trust will give you honest, diverse, and helpful feedback. Give each person 2-3 weeks to provide feedback on a near-complete draft and then yourself 1 week to incorporate the edits (1 month total)
Step 2: Write the application essays, experience text, etc. I rewrote my personal statement 17 times. Yup, 17 times. Not to mention the countless hours I spent rewriting the experiences sections. Ideally, this is a time when you have a subset of close confidants that can quickly give you feedback on individual sections. To write this logically, incorporate several rounds of feedback, and rewrite again, you need 2-3 months.
Step 1: List out your experiences, group them, outline how they fit together, and describe your personal statements. This is an important step that you cannot cut corners with. Think deeply about how each experience is relevant to you and why it contributes to your application. Ideally, you are not making this list for the first time, but rather looking at the running list you have created throughout your preparation. This is another excellent time to have reviewers involved, checking your ideas, and determining quickly if that will work logically. (1 month for careful reflection and consideration)
So, when we add that up we get 1 + 3 + 1 + 1 = 6 months! Honestly, I would start the application process 6 months before you plan to submit. That gives you ample time to think and create the best possible application.
An important note here: This is assuming you have a life during this process. Some people have told me, “well, I am going to take a couple weeks off and only work on the application.” I will be honest, that usually yields pretty bad results. Most people need significant time to think, digest, and rethink ideas repeatedly before they can write sincerely about the critical content you are creating. Besides, this method helps you stagger based on life events that are always happening, such as school, work, or playtime.
Some people also probably noticed how often I suggest soliciting feedback. Short answer: any chance you get, even when there isn’t a chance. I had so many good ideas for my application. One of them was an analogy about how I was a baker, and all of these experiences were ingredients to make a great cake. I thought it was so awesome and amalgamated things together nicely (pun intended)! Someone quickly told me the truth. Doctors are not bakers (at least from medical training), and your medical school application probably shouldn’t be a baking analogy, mainly because I have never baked a thing in my life. Literally. Nothing.
A crucial part of your application is having as many people as possible to review it. “But Brian, that is stupid, not everyone I know is a doctor… and they don’t know anything about going to medical school.” That is just false. The more people that take a serious look at your application and provide feedback, the better. Input from many different sources will improve your application’s breadth, clarify miscommunications, and make it broadly accessible to a larger audience (ehhhmm, like a broad audience that is admissions committees). Think about it this way, an admissions committee is made up of several (usually 10-20) different people with vastly different backgrounds, experiences, and even degrees. Some are faculty, some are staff, some are students, or anywhere in between. Each person will review your application and come to different conclusions, which will be a combination of good and bad. The easiest way to make sure that MOST of them are good is to have a lot of people with different backgrounds and opinions review your application BEFOREHAND! At the least, you have a better chance of having people with similar experiences to those on the admissions committees that will connect with your application. Ask tons of people, including your professors, research advisors, community leaders, volunteer coordinators, writing coach, mom, dad, sister, brother, friends, crazy extended family members! You name it, have them review it.
This is also an important step that is often overlooked. I commonly get this email
“Hi, Brian,
I have attached a draft of my application. Let me know what you think!
Best,
A person”
Uhhhhhhh wut?!? So what do you want me to do? Just read it and tell you what exactly? Like if you are going to get in? If I think you are a cool person? If you know how to spell?
But seriously! What am I going to get from that guidance? Giving me free rein to provide feedback means this: I probably won’t provide any meaningful feedback at all. Why? Because like all humans on the planet, I am LAZY and don’t do well with free form objectives and no clear goal or endpoint.
So, I prefer a different approach and provide a different written request when asking for feedback:
“Hi, Brian,
Thank you for agreeing to take a look at my application. I have attached a draft of the sections I am interested in your feedback on. I am looking for feedback specifically on [structure, writing style, content, flow, etc.]. I am not looking for feedback on [spelling grammar, etc.]. I am hoping to get your comments in 2-3 weeks. Does that timeline work for you?
Thanks,
Brian"
Thank the reviewer. They are not getting paid (unless you are paying them for some reason)
Specify what you are looking for feedback on. Sometimes I want someone to review my work for grammar, other times, I need help forming ideas, and even other times, I need help with a specific sentence or paragraph. The more concrete you can get with this, the better feedback you will get from a reviewer.
Additionally, I find that defining things that you don’t want as feedback is essential. That way, reviewers don’t get bogged down by stuff they know they aren’t supposed to be looking at. Certain spelling things bother me, but if you tell me to not look at spelling, then I won’t!
Defining the timeline and asking if that turnaround works for them. If you don’t give a timeline, people are just going to do it…. Never. Define your timeline, set a date, ask if it is ok.
You should always follow up! Sending friendly reminders a few days before the due date always help. Worst case scenario, you reminded someone about something they already remembered.
Ok, this is another important one. Some people take feedback and click “accept changes” as quickly as they can in Microsoft Word without even glancing at the changes that were made. Honestly, you need to look carefully at the feedback. I have had some feedback (without mentioning names) that was so widely off-base, confusing or was just plain wrong. And that is fine. Take the feedback, work through the comments one by one, and determine if it should be incorporated into the application. I always try to review ALL the comments before accepting any changes; that way, I know how extensive the feedback was and any broad themes I should consider throughout the entire draft.
If you want more information about asking for and receiving good feedback, read, “Thanks for the feedback.” I would highly suggest anyone read this, just to improve on life skills. But these skills are especially relevant for students and trainees looking to learn and grow.
Letters of recommendation are one of the critical components of any application. Recommenders can make or break an application. Most people don’t realize that you can have significantly more control over the letter-writing process than you think.
Here is an example: you have just asked me to write you a letter of recommendation. Your request reads:
“I was wondering if you could write me an excellent letter of recommendation for medical school.”
I agree, and at this point, there are two options:
You respond with “great here are my application materials, and the letter is due XXX.”
As we know from getting good feedback, leaving something open-ended and non-focused can lead to a disaster quickly. I have several mentors who have seen me in many capacities and can comment on multiple components of my character. If they attempt to bring up all aspects, the message will be diluted, and the letter will come off lackluster. Additionally, some might highlight the same components of my character or application, making one letter indiscernible from another. So option 1 is probably bad.
The second option is to give the letter writer clear directions about what section or topic their letter will be used for (academic success, leadership, research, etc.) and some critical parts of your application/character you would like them to highlight. This makes your letter writer’s job significantly easier with only 2-3 character elements to focus on, rather than coming up with them independently. This does mean you need to give your application to your letter writers in SOME COMPLETE FORM for them to review. I find that highlighting the experiences or sections that they can comment on helps guide the process and bolster the application material you have already written. This also means you shouldn’t be making significant changes after asking your letter writers and giving them material. You don’t want to be sending updated material as you go along.
In the end, if you take option two, you get an application that flows from start to finish. All of the letters are supported by the application material and vice versa. You limit repetition, make sure vital experiences are highlighted, and ensure no new “random” content is added.
I have a controversial opinion below. Feel free to disagree.
When applying to medical school, the specific experiences and number of hours in the application is of little importance; however, the way that you present these experiences is crucial.
Let me explain my reasoning. Most students apply with very complete applications. In fact, judging people solely based on merit, I would say 70% of all applicants would get in, yet there is only space for 40%. So it comes down to how the application is written that will make or break your acceptance.
For many people, this is frustrating to hear. There aren’t objective characteristics of an application that assure you will get in. But I would challenge you to see things differently. The application is an opportunity for you to provide personal insight and commentary about yourself to a reviewer. A list of accomplished tasks, CV, or resume does not convey our three-dimensional existence. AAMC recognizes that and provides an opportunity for you to share more than just lists of activities in your application. You have to give reviewers context and insight about yourself so that they feel like they know you. I am going to define this writing ability as giving your application “depth.”
A superficial application reads much like a resume or CV. It is dull, dry, and tells me what you did, how many hours you did it, and your exact responsibilities. With this approach, I have no idea who you are….. I have no idea why you did it, what you learned from it, and if it further confirms you want to be a doctor.
In fact, let’s focus on that last point. Each experience you list should be contributing to your reason to want to become a doctor, so tell me about it! Tell me what you learned about yourself in each experience and why that new learning confirms your desire to become a doctor. Tell me about how you have internalized each experience and how you have integrated it into your daily life.
As a doctor, you will always be growing and learning. Good doctors (good ones to me) are focused on learning from their patients to better understand their current condition, burden, and symptoms. It is important to show the committee that you are ALREADY able to do it routinely. Make sure that each experience you write about, all the personal statements, etc. gives you more depth than a simple list! Why does this make you better? What did you learn? How did you grow from it.
Another two essential style components are simple, but if they are not followed correctly can be deadly to an application:
Be positive. The application shouldn’t read like a sob story, it should read like a success story.
Don’t be arrogant: literally, any hint of this and your application will be immediately thrown in the trash. Humility is a crucial feature most committees are looking for.
This is probably the first section that most people start with in the application. And perhaps because it is mindless and relatively easy to fill out. Just because it is easy to fill out doesn’t mean that it isn’t essential. The MCAT and GPA are both key “filters” for medical schools to quickly screen students based on excellence. Yes, every school says that they don’t look at these; they look at the whole application. I have seen that they are used as simple screening tools but certainly don’t define if you are getting in or not. I think the reality is that there are cutoffs for each institution that vary based on the time of year, number of applicants, and applicant competition. Many medical schools say that they don’t use cutoffs, and I do sincerely believe that. Still, if 25% of your overall evaluation is based on GPA and MCAT, the highest you can get is 75% if you were in the lowest GPA and MCAT scores. And in medical school, you don’t get in when you have a 75% complete application.
When I review applicants, I find that the GPA and MCAT scores really only hurt people. 4.0, 90th percentile students get past the initial “gut check” just fine. Students with a 3.2 and 43rd percentile have a much tougher time. You also have to know that this is the first part of the application a reviewer sees when receiving the raw applications. So your first impression is your academic record and standardized test-taking ability.
I gave two examples of statistics on either end of the spectrum; what about the people in between? Personal opinion time based on my personal experience alone: above a 3.8 and above an 80th percentile is all the same. Ok, maybe a 4.0 and 99th percentile means something special, but for the most part, the rest of the application will be decided based on the other sections. Anything above the metrics I stated would be diminishing returns, i.e., you would gain a minimal amount for overachieving in that area.
To me, that way of looking at the application is inspiring. First, you have a margin for error; you don’t have to be perfect and still maintain an excellent acceptance rate. Second, to think that doctors should only be the most academically gifted humans is false. Do you need to be academically proficient; yes. Is that the only thing you need to become a good doctor; not by a long shot. So most of the time, I think applications are reviewed this way.
tl;dr Keep your grades up, study hard and get a good score on the MCAT. Anything less than “pretty darn good” will hurt you in your application.
There are several different experience categories, such as volunteer work, leadership, clinical paid, clinical unpaid, research, hobbies, shadowing, employment, etc. At this point, you should already have and actively be creating a list of all the activities you have done in recent years that may be useful in this application. I would make sure to list ALL of them, not just the ones you think are important. I would also name each of them in their respective categories. So that would be all of your volunteer experiences (yes even that Saturday service project you did your freshman year), all of your leadership, all of your clinical, etc. A high quality “pre-application” step would be to create this list ahead of time and work to fill it out with more experiences to make your application as complete as possible.
From there, you need to carefully look at the list of experiences, think about your application as a whole, and highlight what you think you should write about. To be clear, that not easy. At all.
What does it mean, “the ones you think you should write about?” I think an important component is you should only be writing about experiences that convinced you that you KNOW you want to go to medical school. So that teens camp you worked at five years ago, that you didn’t really like and didn’t get much out of, don’t write about it. By the same token, maybe you helped the medical staff at the camp and really enjoyed it, write about that. Each of the experiences should have something to do with your future in medicine and how it will improve you as a doctor. We will talk more about exactly how to say this below.
There would be one significant caveat here: if you worked to get yourself through school. This is a VITAL experience to list and fully convey to the reviewer. The number of hours, responsibilities, etc. here may not relate AT ALL to medicine. Still, the fact that you had to work to get yourself through school is important and impressive. Please note this when you are writing your summary of each experience.
I think there is a concrete formula for how these should be structured. At the top of each experience, you fill in a form about the experience hours, dates, person of contact info, etc. The second part of the form is the description. When I review most applications that do not get in, I read a description section that is a repetitive CV like structure. It only tells me what you did, for how long, how many hours, how many kittens you saved from a burning building, and how many cancers you have cured. This is a tedious approach and doesn’t really tell me anything about the applicant: will they be a good fit in the program and be good doctors?
So, what should be in that section? What tells the reviewers that you are ready and know you want to go to medical school? In each explanation, you should provide the following. One sentence about what you did. THE ENTIRE REST of the description telling me about what you learned from the experience and how you would apply that to a career in medicine. Show the depth of your understanding about the medical field, what ethical, moral, or personal issues may come up, and how you dealt with them. Show how creative, engaged, and passionate you are through important and challenging learning experiences.
These are huge to mention and can make or break an application as well. Some people view these as actually selecting “the most important” experiences to themselves. The prompt should read as “most meaningful experiences that drove you to want to become a physician.” With this most meaningful experience, you get some extra space to expand things you haven’t written elsewhere. It is important to note that you SHOULD NOT be repeating information already in the personal statement. You should provide the reviewer with new and more in-depth information that is not listed or written elsewhere. It sucks to read an experience, then the personal statement that is just a random collection of those experiences. Make this engaging, and don’t repeat yourself unless you have to.
I have personally dreaded writing this post about writing a personal statement that can apply to any persons. When I was in this position, I was always frustrated about the personal statement. I continually had thoughts like, “what do you mean you don’t have a formula?” I asked all of my mentors what a personal statement should include and how to write it. They usually all shrugged their shoulders and said, “it should be personal.” Yeah, I think I got that from the title.
So what makes writing a personal statement so hard and time-consuming? The first thing that I hear is, “I don’t like writing about myself” and “I feel like I am just bragging.” Well great! If you feel like you are doing that, then you probably are. So how do you then adjust and write a statement that will support your application? It is important to put narrow blinders on, at least as narrow as an open-ended question can-be, and expand from there cautiously.
In the context of the medical school personal statement, I think the best question to answer is, “why do you know you want to go to medical school and become a doctor.” Notice that you have to want both, i.e., medical education and becoming a doctor in the long term. Some people miss the first question and don’t include a pivotal trial, challenge, or difficulty they have to experience in your life. If someone hasn’t told you already, medical school is tough. It would help if you talked about how prepared you are for the challenge with personal stories and information.
The next question is more straightforward for most to answer, why do you want to become a doctor. Again this is a necessary component because they want to enroll people committed for the long haul of the education process and know what is on the other side.
Ok, so now you have the two questions you should answer, how do you go about writing it? Here is where everything gets personal. I.e., your personal statement should give personal stories about how you personally discovered a personal desire to personally attend medical school and become a physician.
An important note: this should not be a rehashed statement of the experiences you have listed above. You must carefully craft a personal statement to take the reviewer on a journey of discovery and commitment, which gives them context about the things you did, provides a timeline and helps reviewers better understand you. The content in this section should not be gleanable from other sections.
I like to think of the personal statement as the scaffold and glue that holds and places the experiences you have assembled in a context that makes sense. This statement is where you focus on conveying that depth of understanding, the introspective awareness, and key critical thinking skills that position you as a good candidate for medical school committees.
In conclusion, there is no formula, and there shouldn’t be. Each application is different and will show a different human by combining experiences, learning, and growing. I am sorry I could not be of more assistance.
Well, how many medical schools did you apply to this cycle? 10? 20? 30? Let's think about that for a moment. Do you believe that every school on that list will like your application and think you are a good fit in the class? NO, OF COURSE NOT! So let me explain some realities.
Each school is looking for a diverse group of people. Yes, the admissions committee is looking to ensure that they do not select carbon copies of humans and sticking them all in the same class. This, to me, means that you need to be as genuine and real in your application as possible. Without that, you will come off as routine and generic. Routine doesn't get accepted. This also means that you may not be selected to a school that cycle depending on the committee's perspective that there are "too many people like you." In the MD-PhD realm, there is routinely a discussion about how many students from each research area should be selected. You cannot change that, but you can be aware of it. Generic gets your application put in the generic stack, which is much larger than any other stack.
Each school has a mission statement, and they are looking for applicants that can fill that role. Every school has a particular type of doctor they are trying to educate. State schools are pretty straightforward; they usually are tasked by the state government to educate and promote physicians to live and work in the respective state. And depending on the state demographics, they will be looking for certain types of doctors. Example: Utah is always looking for people interested in Rural medicine; why? Because like 70% of the state is rural. The University of Arizona is looking for people that can interact with Native American populations; why? Because they have the largest community of Native Americans in the country. Doing some of the background research about each institution will pay huge dividends in the long term. Do your homework and understand what the missions are of your top schools.
You cannot please them all. Honestly! You cannot do it. Tufts, Harvard, MAYO, Utah, UCLA, University of Washington are all looking for different types of students, WHICH VARIES YEAR TO YEAR! Therefore, my suggestion is to look at all of the mission statements, etc. and write the application as though you are going in your favorite institutions' direction.
Some people would turn this into an optimization game. They would say that out of the 20 schools I am applying to, 12 of them have similar focuses on Rural education, so that is what I will focus my application on. Eh, don't do that. If you focus your application, you need to have the experiences to back it up. I.e., if you want to be a rural doc, but have never shadowed one, don't come from a rural community, or haven't don't any service work in one, then people are going to see right through that facade. Again, focus on being genuine and real, but don't hesitate to highlight essential characteristics that you think fit a particular institution well. Also, I think it is easier to compete in the "specific" piles than in the "general" piles.
The MD/PhD students of medical school class past, present, and future have remained a mystery for decades. They slip in and out of classes as though they were never there and always there.
Ha! Some people think of MD/PhD students as mysterious creatures that get swallowed and spat out of the medical education abyss after toiling for years looking for a way out. But it really isn’t that complicated, I promise. No conspiracies here, no world order, no quest for world domination….. (as far as you know)
Getting an MD/PhD means you get both degrees, an MD, and a PhD. In a classic MD/PhD program, you would spend your first two years in medical school didactic learning and take step 1 boards. You would then move out of medical school and complete a 4-ish year PhD. In the end, you return to medical school to finish your final two years of clinical work. So, you don’t end up getting them “at the same time,” you actually do them in a broken up series.
There is some variation in how other programs are structured, like staggering the years differently. But the basic premise remains the same. You do some of your medical school work first, then do a PhD, then go back to medical school. This sets you up nicely to understand what the “clinical drivers” of your PhD research could be and how to translate your findings to humans, which you will likely be doing for the rest of your life.
There are some myths about the MD/PhD program that I want to dispel:
We are always the smartest students: this is COMPLETELY FALSE AS ILLUSTRATED BY YOURS TRULY! Yes, some people are very smart, but getting an MD/PhD does not make you that. We are humans, and we want to be doctors, but we also like to do research. Rather than smart, I would call us more “indecisive” or “passionate” about multiple things that you can get a degree for.
Getting medical school paid for, and a stipend makes it totally worth doing: Nope. Don’t do it for the money. I make a WHOPPING 28k a year. And while that sounds like a lot, it really isn’t. My wonderful partner basically supports us. I can go into this in more detail, but basically, getting a PhD in the middle of the MD means taking away four years of max earning potential. So for most physicians, that is around 1 million dollars of lost earnings.
You only have to be good at research to get into the program: Eh wrong! In our program and many others, you have to be accepted into the MD portion before considering you for the MD/PhD. I.e., you can’t have your strength be research and then have glaring weaknesses elsewhere in your application.
Well, the beauty of having both degrees is that you can do a lot. Let’s start with what you cannot do:
Practice law
Ever be elected president (find me one)
Be entitled to be a total jackass all the time (I don’t think any degree gets you that)
What can you do? Pretty much everything else, I have assembled a short of list of some careers I have seen:
Academic Medical Provider/Professor
Researcher only (no residency)
Clinical Physician only (no research)
Chair/Academic administration
Private industry scientist (either no residency or with residency)
Entrepreneur
And within these, there are even more details such as academic medicine. We usually describe the research vs. clinical split time. And the range is huge. You can be 90% clinical and 10% research, vice versa, and anywhere in between. That amount also changes based on clinical load, research productivity, and personal decisions, i.e., one year, you could be a 50/50 split, and the next you could be 90/10.
This kind of flexibility excites me personally, being able to do so many different things with so many different hats is really amazing. I would encourage everyone to talk to mentors and see what motivates them in their process.
Well, you have made it. You made it to your research statement section. I am not sure how exactly you plan to tackle your application, but the research statement is usually read towards the end of your application, based on how the application is assembled. So better phrase, I, as a reviewer, have made it.
The research statement is another crucial section if you are interested in an MD-PhD dual degree program. This section also has significantly more space to work with, i.e., I didn’t get anywhere near filling the limit when I wrote my application. So how should you write this statement, and where should you start? Here are some of my thoughts:
Talk to your PI first. Yes, at this point, they are a part of your mentorship team, so they should be willing to have these discussions with you in one way or another. Getting their input, ideas, feedback from the beginning will be pivotal to creating the most impactful statement to reviewers.
You need to concisely convey the context that your project sits in. Most people applying to an MD-PhD are involved in biomedical research. You should be able to clearly delineate the problem you are working on in a “global” sense and why this is important to relieving human suffering etc. Hmmm…. I wonder who would know the most about how to write that section well….? Oh yeah, your PI.
You need to quickly narrow to your project and the specific hypotheses you tested in your work from the general problem. Even if this is only part of a project or one panel in a figure, you need to be able to describe that, how it fits into the whole project, and how the specific component you performed fits into the hypotheses.
Some people going into considerable detail here, use all of their fancy acronyms and expect the person who is reviewing their application to be an expert in their field. I am not sure that is the way to go. I think you should write for a generally educated audience but not necessarily an expert in your field. They will be experts in the scientific method and understanding how to test and isolate results. You should be able to convey critical thinking well.
The project results are not significant, i.e., it is cool that you cured cancer, etc. But, the more important part is how you see that project going forward and how you could implement it to improve human health. Again, showing your ability to critically think through problems like a physician-scientist would.
Like all sections in the application, this one is important and personal. Some people find themselves repeating what they wrote in their personal statement. I think, as an MD-PhD applicant, you need to be careful about how you construct your application and where you present information. Let's talk explicitly about the way that I see reviewers interpret these applications. **Again note, this is one way of thinking, and I am sure there are many other methods to write this part of the application.
In some review systems, MD and MD-PhD applicants are reviewed by both the MD and MD-PhD committees. In this case, the MD committees expect ALL students (MD-PhD Applicants included) to perform at the same level to be admitted into an MD or MD-PhD program. MD-PhD committees then expect students to show potential as a physician-scientist. To me, this means you should spend the standard Medical school application talking about the standard medical school things, looking like a standard student with a small research bent that will be a good physician. The "MD-PhD statement of why section" is the first different section added for MD-PhD applicants. This is where you focus on incorporating research into your career as a physician-scientist. Honestly, I think you can ignore most of that narrative in the other sections of the application, i.e., you should not write a personal statement that is all about your research career (maybe in small bits but indeed not the central theme).
This is the section where you get to describe why research, why a physician-scientist, and why MD-PhD. To write this section, I think you need to talk to many people and figure out what being a physician-scientist means to you. It is very different depending on the person you speak to, and the possibilities are endless. I don't think you need concrete goals here about what you want to do in the future. But you should be able to discuss several different possibilities and prospects going forward.
Reviewers will be looking to answer the question: Does this applicant have a commitment to research, and do I see the potential for them as a physician-scientist in the long term. Some people come with detailed and specific plans, but we all know that plans change quickly based on life experiences. I find that I am more connected with applicants who convey the vast possibilities and expansive landscape that opens up with a dual MD-PhD degree. Understanding that becoming an academic PI will force constant change and development over time, drive thinking, and push humanity forward into a new era are essential parts of this application, not just a 10-year plan.
Again, this is a personal section, so the narrative and understanding should be personal. There is no magic bullet to complete this section, and you are indeed limited in space. Be concise, be impactful, and be positive.