When The Bar Exam Is Over, STFU About It And Move On With Your Life

Do NOT under any circumstances discuss your answers to any bar question, written or multistate, with anyone.

I dithered about whether to put this advice at the beginning or end of this piece.  However, remembering the admonitions of various journalism class professors to “not bury the lede,” I have decided to lead with it, because I don’t think there’s any more important advice for those taking the bar this week. I know, I’m assuming that readers will also find the advice “important,” but I think it is.

What is the advice from this old lady lawyer? It’s simple: do NOT under any circumstances discuss your answers to any bar question, written or multistate, with anyone, be it classmate, study partner, significant other, spouse, or four-legged friend. Yes, I mean anyone, and that means you. It’s akin to “don’t ask, don’t tell.” Zip your lips, STFU, choose whatever phrase will work for you.

Why do I feel so strongly about this?  Let me count the ways:

  1. Just because you answered a question one way and Ms. X answered another way doesn’t mean that you are wrong and she is right. Doubting ourselves is a large part of schlepping through law school (and in practice as well), and so why jump to the conclusion that she’s right and you’re wrong? You don’t know that, and just because she finished higher up in the class ranking or was on law review or whatever other honor doesn’t necessarily mean that she got it right. Maybe, just maybe, you understand the Rule Against Perpetuities better than she and so spotted the issue.
  2. Rehashing answers that you wrote, should have written, could have written is a waste of emotional energy. It’s too late now, so why spend good emotional energy over things that you can’t control? Fretting over what you can’t control is a waste of time. It’s over and done with. Once in practice, we think that we are in control. After all, we are Type A control freak personalities. Otherwise why did we go to law school? In practice, you’ll discover that you are at the mercy of just about everyone who crosses your path: the court, opposing counsel, support staff, and last, but certainly not least, your clients. Yes, I know that we talk about having client control, but it can be and often is very situational. Not talking about bar exam questions/answers is a good way to practice your discipline.
  3. If people want to discuss answers with you, get up and walk away. It’s as simple as that. In some cases, ignorance is bliss, and this is one of the situations where it holds true. If you assume that she’s right and you’re not, then aren’t you assuming facts not in evidence? (Sound familiar?)
  4. Don’t review your notes, bar materials, or whatever study guides you used. Put them away. Just because you know the applicable rule of law doesn’t mean that you spotted the issue and applied it correctly on the exam.

Having been through the torture that is the bar exam, albeit many years ago (I remember it vividly even all these years later, and probably will even after dementia kicks in), why make the experience worse for yourself by exchanging information that can’t make you possibly feel better? It’s too late to revise or change answers now. Even if you ignore my advice and compare answers, finding to your delight that your answers agree with someone else, how can you be sure that you both aren’t wrong? And what are you going to do about it? Nothing.

Like most bar takers, you are going to think that you failed. You’ll be anxious and have trouble sleeping, rehashing what you did and did not do. If you encounter anyone who says it was easy or who purportedly “aced it,” run, don’t walk, in the other direction. As one of my senior executive clients used to say, “That person is a lying sack of sh-t.” Don’t let anyone freak you out.

There’s an old adage about oral argument that is appropriate here. I’m paraphrasing because I don’t remember the exact language, but it’s something to the effect that there are three things about oral argument: the one you prepared to give, the one you actually gave, and the 3 a.m. in the morning one, that is, the one you should have given. Substitute writing the bar exam for oral argument.

Stop perseverating. Yes, there are lots of highly successful lawyer peeps who failed the exam the first time, but you are not going to be one of them.

So, give it up, let it go. Take a chill pill and find something fun to do while waiting, a wait that seems interminable (and depending on the state, may well be). Assuming that you pass (and my fingers are crossed that you do), you’ll be off to the races soon enough. Enjoy this last bit of freedom before reality takes over. Once you’re admitted, your life is never the same.


Jill Switzer has been an active member of the State Bar of California for more than 40 years. She remembers practicing law in a kinder, gentler time. She’s had a diverse legal career, including stints as a deputy district attorney, a solo practice, and several senior in-house gigs. She now mediates full-time, which gives her the opportunity to see dinosaurs, millennials, and those in-between interact — it’s not always civil. You can reach her by email at [email protected].