What actually matters in medical school admissions today (and what doesn't)
Ivan French is an entrepreneur and startup leader with more than 20 years of experience scaling businesses across industries and global markets. Having lived and worked in New York, Boston, San Francisco, Madrid, Buenos Aires, and Mexico City, he has led cross-functional teams in driving growth, innovation, and new business development for both startups and multinational organizations. His career spans investment banking, healthcare, and entrepreneurship, giving him a unique perspective on building and growing successful companies. Ivan holds an MBA from Harvard Business School and was the recipient of several prestigious fellowships, including the Fulbright Scholarship.
Over the past few months, I've spent significant time reviewing applications, reading personal statements, and speaking with pre-med students preparing for the 2026 application cycle.
One thing has become increasingly clear: many applicants are still optimizing for the admissions process that existed ten years ago, not the one that exists today.
The irony is that some of the strongest applicants we worked with this year initially believed they were behind, while some of the most accomplished students on paper struggled to communicate why they wanted to become physicians in the first place.
The difference between strong metrics and a strong application
Academic performance still matters, of course. In 2025, more than 54,000 applicants applied to U.S. MD programs alone, underscoring how competitive the admissions process remains. But after reviewing dozens of applications this cycle, I have become convinced that many students are spending too much time worrying about the wrong things.
A few months ago, I spoke with a student who had what most applicants would consider an ideal profile. A strong GPA, an MCAT score above the national average, research experience, clinical volunteering, leadership positions, and hundreds of hours invested across multiple extracurricular activities.
Yet when I asked a simple question, "Why medicine?", the answer felt surprisingly vague.
The student could explain what they had done, but not why those experiences mattered.
A week later, I met another applicant with lower metrics. On paper, their application looked less impressive. But they could clearly explain how a series of experiences over several years had shaped their interest in medicine. Their activities connected to one another. Their personal statement felt authentic. Their application told a coherent story.
If I had to bet on which applicant would resonate more with an admissions committee, I would choose the second one every time.
This is one of the biggest misconceptions we continue to see in admissions.
Many students believe the goal is to build the most impressive résumé possible. In reality, the goal is to build a compelling case for why you belong in medicine.
Those are not the same thing.
Why more activities can add less value
The strongest applicants are not necessarily the ones who have done the most. They are often the ones who understand what their experiences mean.
This distinction becomes particularly important when students begin writing their personal statements and activity descriptions.
One trend we've noticed throughout the 2026 cycle is that applicants frequently underestimate the importance of reflection. They describe what happened but spend very little time explaining what they learned.
Admissions committees are not simply evaluating activities. They are evaluating judgment, maturity, self-awareness, resilience, and interpersonal skills. Reflection is often where those qualities become visible.
Another common mistake is what I call "activity accumulation."
Students hear that research is important, so they add research. They hear leadership matters, so they join a club. They hear service is valuable, so they volunteer somewhere.
Eventually, the application contains a long list of experiences that don't necessarily connect with one another.
The result is an applicant who appears busy but difficult to understand.
The most successful applicants we've worked with this year have generally done the opposite. Instead of collecting experiences, they invested deeply in a few meaningful areas and developed genuine insight from those experiences.
Authenticity is the competitive advantage
The admissions process has also become increasingly sophisticated at identifying authenticity.
Students sometimes assume they need to sound exceptionally intelligent or write in a highly academic style. In practice, the most effective essays are often surprisingly simple. They sound like real people. They communicate clearly. They reveal something personal.
The goal is not to impress the reader.
The goal is to connect with the reader.
As the admissions landscape continues to evolve, I believe this trend will only become more important. Information has become widely available. Every applicant can find advice online. Every applicant can learn how to build a competitive profile.
What is becoming harder to replicate is genuine self-awareness.
The applicants who stand out are increasingly those who can explain not only what they have accomplished but also how those experiences have shaped the physician they hope to become.
If there is one lesson from the 2026 cycle that I would share with future applicants, it is this:
Stop asking how many activities you need.
Start asking what story your experiences tell.
The answer to that question will likely have a greater impact on your application than one additional volunteer position, one additional leadership role, or one additional line on your résumé.
