We recently introduced an application process for our SQE and QWE programme. As part of the form, we ask a question that seems simple on the surface:

“Tell us about an issue in the justice system that you would change — and why?”

It’s an open-ended question. There are no right or wrong answers. But reading through the first wave of applications, one pattern stood out: a large number of students mention how much lawyers are paid. Or how legal aid is underfunded. Or both.

These issues matter. They really do. But I couldn’t help feeling that something was missing.

It reminded me of interviews I’ve been part of — either as the interviewer or supporting candidates. This kind of question comes up a lot. And over and over again, people give some version of: “Legal aid is in crisis” or “Lawyers aren’t paid enough.”

But here’s the thing: it’s not clear why that matters to you. Why it moves you. Why it makes you want to be a lawyer.

The truth is, it probably doesn’t. Not really. It’s the kind of answer students give because they think it demonstrates commercial awareness. But this isn’t a question about the legal market. It’s a question about personal motivation. And that’s where many students struggle — not because they don’t care, but because they haven’t yet found the words to say why.

So let me put it plainly: the strongest answers are often the most personal.

Maybe you were arrested once. Maybe you watched someone you care about being evicted. Maybe you’ve experienced bureaucracy that made you feel powerless. That’s your issue. That’s your experience of the justice system. Start there. What did it make you feel? Was it anger? Frustration? A sense of injustice? Now ask yourself: how can lawyers be part of the solution to that?

Because when you talk about legal aid, or pay, without connecting it to your own life, you’re missing the opportunity to show who you are. To be seen. And that’s what makes someone memorable.

There are a lot of law students out there. You are in a fight to stand out. That doesn’t mean being quirky for the sake of it. It means being honest. It means thinking seriously about why you want to join the profession, and why the area of law you’re drawn to matters to you.

Sometimes law can seem like a straight line to prestige. Sometimes it is. I know plenty of people in high-powered legal jobs who are paid extremely well. Law can give you that. But the people we want to work with are driven by something deeper. Something urgent. A sense that not all is right with the world — and that they can do something about it.