Does ChatGPT write a good personal statement? We found out (Part ONE)

Personal statements for university admissions committees are all about personality — can ChatGPT replicate that?

Those following our work know we’re skeptical of using ChatGPT for writing. We are admittedly also fascinated by how much of our society is okay with using it. So, when ChatGPT came out with a newer model—GPT-5—we decided to put it to the test. We know using AI is a fraught topic in university settings, prompting institutions to debate the fairness of using AI in university admissions materials. Many universities are stringent about the use of AI in personal statements, supplemental materials, and other application writings; University of Toronto clearly states how using AI in an authorized manner is an academic offence. We figured we would get to the bottom of this—and see what happens when a student uses an AI tool to craft a personal statement.

The prompt

For my experiment, I used a free version of GPT-5 to test one of the major claims of this tool—that the tool extends help to students of all socioeconomic backgrounds. I imagined myself as an undergrad—hunting for ways to start my personal statement and not sure where to begin. These were my conditions:

1. I had to allow some realism. I’m a trained writer and communicator who has worked for many years, so if I fed my resume to ChatGPT, it would pick up on my existing skills. (Readers, take note: many people who use ChatGPT to write something, such as a personal statement, often do so by feeding existing data into the program and then asking it to generate the piece from scratch.) So if I followed this strategy, I would be imputing work experience into the personal statement.
2. I was going to apply to a fun major that built from my existing skillset in the humanities. It wasn’t going to seem realistic for me (an English graduate) to apply to Evolutionary Biology! so I made the program an B.A. in Celtic Studies — a less-known, interdisciplinary humanities program still available at the University of Toronto. 

So I began:

I pasted my resume. (For confidentiality reasons, I won’t include it here – but you’re free to check out my LinkedIn to get a gist of what I pasted.) ChatGPT responded:

Nothing like positive affirmation from AI! Phrases like “natural pathway” and 
“academic curiousity” were a nice touch, though with caveats—as I’ll cover later.

First response

Then came the generated statement. (I’ve marked it up.)

My initial reaction was boy, this looks symmetrical. Five evenly-distributed paragraphs, with a shorter introduction in the opening to grab the reader, and a final conclusion that establishes my interest in the program — with program name included. If I had entered the institution name, it would be in this final paragraph. The tone was clear, with a mix of simple and complex sentences that began with transitional phrases that a High School English teacher would approve: “From my earliest encounters,” “Beyond formal work,” and so forth.

 And to give ChatGPT credit, the template is a popular one encouraged by many school administrators. 

1. Overall summary of interest 
2. Academic background and related work background (that also signals its application to the program in the final sentence!)
3. How my existing background fits with Celtic Studies, and a list of useful things about Celtic Studies
4.  The impact of my studying Celtic Studies on the community.
5. Concluding paragraph summarizing interest.

But upon closer investigation, a few things were off. For one, there were clusters of different keywords, hitting what seemed to be a list of “required information” instead of sitting with a focused, captivating story about a student’s uniqueness. This sounded somewhat decent, but admissions committees — faced with thousands of students also claiming to “engage deeply” in some field of study — are sure to fall asleep. 

The first paragraph opens with a universalizing claim on how “language, culture, and history intertwine to shape human identity.” 

Figure 1 . The structure of “From X to Y” (marked in red brackets) is a common formula, combined with the other fairly generic form of “A, B, and C [verb] in order to D” (marked in blue brackets). Notice that it’s two fairly generic or empty structured formulas combined together in one sentence. A multiplicity of generic structures or conventions is a mark of AI, because the machine is ultimately regurgitating common practices it has gleaned from the internet. And common practices means cliché—structures and phrasings that are overused and prone to boring readers.

Let’s break down the generic keywords of “language, culture, and history” (marked in blue). On deeper thought, what do they really mean?

• Language. As a catch-all term for pretty much any kind of communication, this is very broad. Does the sentence mean foreign language(s) and the learning of these language(s)? Or does it mean the way meaning is transmitted more broadly? Are we even dealing with verbal language alone, or communication through visual, auditory, and other means? (Even one or two pointers—not all of them—would improve the specificity.)
• Culture. Similar to language – I’m immediately wondering what kind of culture is conveyed here. Are we talking fashion, architecture, something tangible from the Celtic world, since this statement is gearing towards that?
• History. Another broad term that can be easily fixed, because history can mean everything from distinct historical periods to memorable events. Even simply stating the part of the world or the time period you are interested in would help. On that note, I would be burning to know what’s motivating the interest in all these topics—and there is no direct explanation or story of why!

While it isn’t possible to elaborate on all these specifications in the opening sentence—that’s what body paragraphs do—the next few sentences then move onto something else entirely. Instead of working to unpack how “language, culture, or history” actually “intertwine,” it then  states the fact of pursuing Celtic Studies (but not the why). The descriptor of Celtic Studies – “a chance to engage deeply with a body of traditions” — continues to be vague. Is there a specific item in Celtic Studies one could engage with, instead of “body of traditions”? 

             A more effective opener in this case might be to lead a simple story about why one would have an interest in Celtic Studies.  For instance, I could lead with a personal story unique to myself, borrowed from my own life or experience, that sparked my interest in niche historical topics and languages. 

            I would add more personality:

My interest in ancient traditions began one summer night, during my tenth grade. I picked up a book with a lovely green cover, filled with Old Irish poetry in translation, and started reading. Suddenly, I was transported into another world, of a “wind that breathes upon the sea”. This sparked my interest in learning about cultures and languages from a long time ago, that weren’t as accessible as Ancient Greek or Roman histories, and definitely less known than the Renaissance. This interim period of a time that also spoke to my ancestral roots, was what sparked my interest in Celtic studies.

Obviously, we could tweak and improve this opener. I would ask the writer of this statement: Can you name the poem you are describing? Can you sit with the poem a bit longer, and describe more concisely what its language is doing for you (for instance, the use of the word breathes?). But that kind of detail is yours to write.

Professional…. or amateur?

Another interesting trait about ChatGPT is its hodgepodge tone. Academic admissions committees understand that students aren’t Pulitzer Prize novelists or speech writers for high-stakes politics. They know that clear, succinct writing conveying complex thought, is the name of the admissions game.

At the same time, this statement is clearly blatantly generated, in ways that would put off or bore your admissions committee. The giveaway of this statement’s GPT-origins are the clichéd phrases aimed at multiple target audiences, but have no unified or consistent message that would appeal to an actual reader. Such phrases are clichéd for a reason. ChatGPT pieces together knowledge from different corners of the internet in order to form its content, so it’s bound to find phrases that are frequently used or that are even tired.

Turns of phrase like “political discourse” are lifted straight out of undergraduate humanities courses. But with no concrete pointers to any specific discipline, they fail to refer to anything specific. These words sound nice in a first-year university paper, but stop at that: we don’t know what traditions are discussed here, or what the political discourse entails.

The opening lines attempt to sound earnest, and might have scored a Level 4 in Grade 9 English, but is less compelling when it describes a student who is nearly an adult. These include: “from my earliest encounters,” “has deepened my understanding,” and the high-achieving, “[…] intertwine to shape human identity.”  Every high school English teacher has read this, and therefore, so has every university admissions committee member. But what’s more interesting is the sudden recruiter-speak that comes after, when the Celtic Studies program “represents a natural progression of my academic and professional journey,” as though it’s tying a loose end to a cover letter. 

Marked in green is a sentence structure that can sound fancy, using a formula not always obvious to high school students: “A chance to x with y whose a continue to b, and whose c continue to d…” While this is not a bad set up for the eventual explication of the student’s “natural progression” in the following paragraphs, it is not strong or unique. More detailed and personal information—or better yet, a personal story as described above, would ultimately set this opening apart from others.  

These are just some local issues I picked up in individual paragraphs. If we reread the entire statement again, we’d get a greater sense of inconsistency overall, as the statement jumps from one voice to another, with no concise or unique detail to make it memorable. The lack of uniqueness is what lies at stake—a personal statement generated by AI failsat being personal. And this is why using an AI generator can do more harm than help in crafting such an important document. How will you sound different from other applicants, if your voice sounds just like everyone else’s?

In my next post, we’ll see what happens when we ask ChatGPT-5 to give this statement another edit, using more targeted prompts. Will these targeted prompts generate a more unique statement? We’ll find out.