Some quick “no error” shortcuts

Ah yes… Option (E), aka “No error,” aka the bane of most people’s existence on Error-Identification.

First, an overview:

One of the most important things to understand about “No error” questions is that, for the most part, they are actually testing the exact same rules that questions that do contain errors are testing — it’s just that the constructions happen to be used correctly. That means if a verb is underlined but agrees with its subject and is used in the proper tense, there’s already a decent chance that the answer is (E).

Likewise, if “it(s)” or “they/their” is underlined and agrees in number with its antecedent, there’s also a pretty good chance that the answer is (E). If a collective noun (country, city, jury, team, agency) is involved and checks out agreement-wise, there’s an even better chance that the answer is (E) — at least on everything up to about #27; on the last few questions, all bets tend to be off.

Beyond that, however, there are a couple of other “clues” that tend to signal that the answer is (E). I do mention them in The Ultimate Guide to SAT® Grammar, but what I didn’t realize when I wrote the book was that not only are those particular constructions correct, but their presence also suggests that the entire sentence in which they appear is correct.

I happened to mention these “rules” when I was tutoring tonight and (horror of horrors!) realized that I had never posted them online. Now, I couldn’t possibly give one of my own students that little advantage without offering it to everyone else as well, so here goes, along with my standard disclaimer that these are *general* patterns and that, as always, the College Board is free to break its own “rules” as it so pleases.

1) Long since

As I wrote about in a post long since archived in my Study Guides section, this is a favorite “trick phrase” that ETS likes to employ. There’s absolutely nothing wrong with it, but it sounds vaguely odd, as if there could or should be something wrong with it, and so a lot of people tend to think it’s an actual error.

2) Preposition + which

Again, this is another construction that lots of people tend to think sounds somewhat “off.”

For example: Because apricots and spinach are two of the most common foods in which large doses of iron are found, they are often recommended to patients who suffer from vitamin deficiencies.

Even though the above sentence might strike you as a bit awkward, there is nothing wrong with it. If you encounter the bolded construction or a similar one (by which, for which, from which, etc.) on the SAT, not only is it virtually guaranteed to be correct, but the entire sentence is also probably correct as well.

3) “That” used as part of a subject

This is another constructions that a lot of peopl find strange, but it’s actually just a reduced form of “the fact that,” and it’s fine.

It always takes a singular verb.

For example: That union members and labor leaders must come together and find an effective solution for ending the strike is beyond dispute.

(For the record, this construction was used in a question that contained an actual error elsewhere in the sentence on the January (?) 2012 test, but it was also the last question of the section. If it shows up earlier, the sentence is likely to be ok.)

There is, of course, no guarantee that you’ll these constructions, but if you do happen to spot one of them, you’ll at least know not to make yourself crazy looking for an error in the rest of the sentence — especially if there’s nothing too obviously wrong.

The Jane Austen Myth

One of the most insidious myths about the SAT that has somehow gained an inordinate amount of traction is the idea that reading lots of nineteenth-century novels is the best way to study for Critical Reading. And among nineteenth-century novelists, Jane Austen’s name seems to come up a lot.

Now don’t get me wrong — reading lots of nineteenth-century novels is certainly not a bad way to study for the SAT. Authors like Austen and Bronte and Dickens (and Fielding and Trollope and Defoe and Eliot) use tons of SAT vocabulary. Tons. A single chapter of Great Expectations probably contains nearly as many SAT words as you’ll find in all of Direct Hits. Reading any major work of nineteenth-century literature and looking up every word you don’t know is a fantastic way to expand your vocabulary.

But it’s not necessarily the best way, and it’s certainly not the only way, to prepare effectively for Critical Reading.

As some very sane, rational adult pointed out on College Confidential a month or so back, this is a classic case of confusing correlation with causation.

Here’s the problem: a lot of people (ok, girls) who score well on Critical Reading also happen to be huge Jane Austen fans. (Confession: I’m not, nor was I ever a Jane Austen fan; I find her books incredibly tedious). Because reading Jane Austen helped them score well, they then make a classic SAT-logic mistake and conclude that if reading Jane Austen worked for them (sample size of one), it must therefore work for everyone.

Can you see the problem with this?

Maybe they have things backwards: they enjoy reading Jane Austen because they’re *already* strong readers; it’s only because of their extant knowledge base that they’re able to boostrap themselves in acquiring new skills, e.g. figuring out new vocabulary words from context.

Maybe other people aren’t terribly interested in Jane Austen, or in novels period, and if they try to read them, they 1) will have just as much trouble with them as they have with the SAT, 2) will not bother to look up unfamiliar words because there are too many of them and it’s too hard to understand anyway, and 3) will get so frustrated that they just quit.

So to set the record straight: it is not necessary to read Jane Austen to do well on the SAT!

The passages on the SAT are not, for the most part, taken from nineteenth-century novels. Yes, very occasionally, a fiction passage or one passage in a Passage 1/Passage 2 set will come from a nineteenth century text, but the vast majority of passages are excerpted from works written in the last few decades.

So if you don’t much like Jane Austen, don’t worry. If you’d much rather read about superstring theory or the ethics of eating meat, I highly encourage you to do so — it is, after all, one of the SAT’s favorite topics. And for a list of where SAT passages actually come from, click here.

One Critical Reading strategy is not enough

One of the questions I get asked most frequently about Critical Reading is, “What’s your strategy?” A couple of things tend to be assumed in this question:

1) I will provide a straightforward response such as, “always read the questions first so you don’t lose time reading the passage” or “bracket all the line references as you go through the passage so that you’ll know where to read carefully” (two things I would, incidentally, not ever advise).

2) There is such thing as a single strategy that is applicable to every question.

This second part is the really dangerous one. One of the things that makes obtaining a very high Critical Reading score so difficult is the fact that it demands a certain degree of flexibility — while there are plenty of strategies that will allow someone to answer many questions correctly, there is no strategy I know of that is both efficient and effective for trying to answer every question correctly. Students who insist on sticking to one strategy generally top out at about 700; the ones who score higher tend to be using multiple strategies, even if they’re not aware of it. (As a rule, people who obtain very high CR scores tend to take a whole lot of things for granted when explaining how to achieve a high CR score).

The more time I spend teaching Critical Reading, the more I become aware of this: a couple of times recently, I’ve given a student a lengthy explanation about why he or she *must* approach certain kinds of questions in a particular way, then promptly gone on to completely contradict myself because I happened to spot a shortcut that got me the answer in five seconds instead of forty-five. It’s not that the first way couldn’t have worked. It’s just that it would have been a lot more trouble and left some room for second-guessing.

I’ve also become aware of this because of a debate I’ve been having with Debbie Stier over the importance of focusing on the “implied author” of the SAT (i.e. the people at ETS who actually write the test) vs. the author of the passage. It’s probably true that I spend a bit less time focusing on the latter than do some SAT tutors. Yes, I spout the standard “the College Board is always politically correct, avoid the extreme answers, etc.,” and I’ve even been known to play that old favorite, “guess the answer without looking at the question” (I’m actually quite good at it), but that’s not the main focus of my tutoring. When I go over CR questions with my students, I tend to discuss both the long way AND the shortcut, but I always stress that picking the shortcut answer without checking it in the passage can get you into trouble.

I don’t argue that reading the test this way can be very effective — on *some* questions. But when tutors (i.e. grownups) use these tricks, they tend to assume that teenagers are generally capable of reading with the same level of nuance that they are, and that’s simply not true. Weak 16-year old readers do not always know what a politically correct answer — or, for that matter, an extreme answer, or a general answer — looks like: getting rid of answers that include words like “always” and “never” is one thing, but how many kids scoring around 500 (remember, the CR average is 501) know what “vitriolic” means?

For a somewhat stronger reader, using these kinds of tricks can in fact propel someone into the low 600s, but rarely beyond. They’re useful, but only to a point. And that’s why I tend not to insist on them excessively: they’re part of knowing how to take the SAT, and they can get you close to the answer — sometimes very, very fast — but they’re not the whole thing, and they won’t always get you to the point where you can pick an answer and know unhesitatingly that it’s correct. They might help you get it down to two answers, but usually when that happens, you need to be able to read closely in order to decide between them. They also might get you the right answer if you’re down to two and can’t choose, but then again, they might not.

The College Board isn’t stupid; they deviate from their own patterns from time to time just to throw people off. That’s why I spend so much time teaching people to answer the questions for real: the other way helps, but it’s not a guarantee. For someone trying to boost their CR score 100+ points, understanding that there really is a relationship between the question and the answer — and that it can be determined through a careful process of logical reasoning — is often the key to understanding the test.

So for someone attempting to score close to 800, it’s not a question of focusing on the author of the test OR the author of the passage. You have to do both, flipping back and forth between using the answer choices to make educated guesses about what’s *likely* to be correct and actually reading the text closely to make sure that it is in fact correct. In other words, you have to read on two levels at once.

Practically speaking, it means that sometimes you have to start by going back to the passage and putting the answer in your own words; sometimes you can skip the passage and just reiterate the main point/tone before looking at the answers; sometimes you can start by looking at the answers and making an educated guess about which one(s) are likely to be correct, then go back to the passage and check them out; and sometimes you might have no idea about the answer and have to go back and forth between the passage and the questions five or six or ten times, eliminating answers as you go. It’s up to you to be flexible enough to figure out what approach works best on any given question.

If you think this sounds hard, you’re right: it is. But that’s why a high CR score actually means something.

If you can manage it, though, looking at the test this way can allow you to pinpoint the likely answer very fast so you don’t waste time, then check it out for real so that you’re not tempted to second-guess yourself. That way, you’re far less likely to create a backlog of tiredness and frustration that accumulates until you can no longer focus properly.

Let me give you an example.

On one “attitude” question I went over with a student recently, the following five answer choices appeared:

(A) fascination (B) approval (C) ambivalence (D) skepticism (E) hostility

Now, I could have gone back to the passage first and come up with an answer on my own; however, answers to tone questions tend to be highly formulaic, so I made a decision to start by looking at the answers and trying to use the test against itself.

Knowing that (C) and is pretty much always wrong and that (A) and (E) were too extreme, I immediately narrowed it down to (B) and (D), which are frequently used as correct answers. That meant all I had to figure out was whether the author’s attitude in that portion of the passage was positive or negative, or whether there were any other textual clues that indicated one of those answers.

Sure enough, I looked at the passage, and not only was there a question mark, but the sentence preceding it started out “But how exactly…?” which is phrasing that pretty much screams skepticism, and the author was clearly talking about something he didn’t like, so the answer had to be (D). The answer choices told me what was likely to be right, but a close reading of the text gave me the answer for real.

The other reason that knowing how to read the test properly is that very occasionally, ETS screws up the wording of a question just very slightly and doesn’t ask precisely what it means to ask, OR it provides more than one answer that could be reasonably justified (before you get all excited, know that I’ve only seen maybe five questions period that fell into this category — ETS usually does a very good job, and oversights like this are exceedingly rare). In order to answer the question correctly, it is actually necessary to consider the answers independently of the question, and to understand 1) what ETS intended to ask rather than what it actually asked, and 2) which answer choice is most likely to be correct based on the kinds of answers that ETS usually deems correct.

If you know that the right answer will always go along with the main point rather than a supporting detail, for example, you can get still often get the right answer on imprecisely worded questions — but to do that, you have to read intention rather than what’s actually there. Is that fair? No, of course not. Should the College Board have stop these questions from appearing? Yes, of course. But sometimes things slip through. (No, for the record, I’m not trying to make excuses.)

The good news is that it’s possible to get an 800 CR without getting every single question right. But if you’re really serious about trying to ace that section, you need to approach it pragmatically: not every question requires the same approach, and while it is important to understand each passage, it’s just as important to understand how the exam is constructed. The SAT is, after all, a standardized test, and approaching each question as a unique creation is frankly unnecessary — knowing the patterns will make you a more effective test-taker, just as long as you treat them as an added benefit and not as a replacement for understanding what’s going on in the passage itself.

If you don’t know why you’re picking the answer, you probably shouldn’t pick it

I’ve now uttered these words so many times this week that I feel compelled to post them. As you may have guessed, the typical conversation that elicits them goes something like this:

Me: So what made you pick (C)? Tell me how you got that answer.

Student: Ummm… I’m really not sure.

Me: There must have been something that made you pick it… Can you give me some idea of how you came up with it?

Student: (Giggles uncomfortably. Shrugs). Ummm… I really don’t know what I was thinking.

Me: If you’re really have no idea why you’re picking an answer, that’s usually a sign that you haven’t thought hard enough about what you’re doing.

In case you haven’t noticed, the SAT is a test that requires you to think (duh). That’s not to say that you have to focus obsessively on every little detail, but you can’t afford to tune out either.

A “reason” for picking an answer can be something as simple as a gut feeling. From what I’ve seen, they’re right far more often than not, and usually when I press someone to explain those “gut” answers, it turns out that there was a logical thought process there that they just didn’t quite know how to put into words.

It’s also fine to pick an answer based on knowledge of the test: if you’re struggling with a tone question and know that “wry” is usually right when it appears as an answer choice, you can pick it even if you don’t totally get what’s going in the passage. Or on a “function” question that asks you to identify the purpose of a particular line, if you know that correct answers tend to be short and phrased in a very general manner, you can probably make an educated guess. You might not always get the answer right, but at least you’re basing your answers on the way the test usually works, as opposed to the desire to just get the question over without leaving it blank.

One of the most frustrating things for me as a tutor is that unless the student willingly and actively decides to abandon the “guess and get it over with” mindset, my ability to help them is seriously curtailed.

As I incessantly remind my students whenever they ask me what a word means or what a question is actually asking, I won’t be there to feed them the information when they’re actually taking the test. I’m happy to explain AFTER they’ve tried working through the question on their own, but I need to see them try it with their actual level of knowledge so that I can help them figure things out even when they’re *not* entirely sure what’s going on. My job is to get them to the point where they can do it on their own because ultimately they’re going to have no choice but to do it that way.

Tutoring as a magnifying glass

I was chatting with another tutor the other day, and he happened to mention his favorite metaphor (ok, technically a simile) for the results people get from tutoring.

Tutoring, he said, is like a magnifying glass. If someone can raise their score 20 points by studying seriously on their own, I can probably raise them 200 points. But if they put in nothing, that’s what they’ll get back. It doesn’t matter what you multiply zero by; it’s always still going to be zero.

I think that’s the most eloquently I’ve heard anyone put it.