TARA Writing Task: how to structure a 750-word response in 40 minutes

Writing Task is the third and final module of TARA, sat after Critical Thinking and Problem Solving and, like both of those, taken in a fixed order with no going back once you move on.

You're given a choice of three prompts and you answer one of them, in up to 750 words, in 40 minutes.

There's no multiple choice here and no marking scheme in the way the other two modules have one — you're simply writing a short, structured response to a statement, on paper or on screen depending on your test centre, under a fixed clock.

Every Writing Task prompt asks you to do the same three things, in the same order, regardless of the topic: explain what the statement means, build a reasoned case against it, and then say how far you actually agree with it and why.

The topic changes prompt to prompt. The three-part shape underneath it does not.

That's what makes it possible to prepare for in a structured way, even though you can't know the exact statement you'll be given until the day.

One thing worth being upfront about:

TARA is new. The first sittings ran in October 2025 and January 2026, which means there is no bank of official Writing Task past papers to draw on the way there is for long-running tests.

Everything below the official planning guidance in this guide — including the three practice prompts — is written in the same style as the real task, not lifted from an official paper, because no such archive exists yet.

We say so again where it matters most, further down.

It's easy to assume the module that isn't marked is the one worth the least preparation time.

That assumption doesn't hold up well here, for a specific reason:

Writing Task responses aren't scored on TARA's 1.0–9.0 scale at all, but a copy of what you write goes directly to every university you applied to that requires TARA.

An admissions tutor can open it and read it — your actual sentences, your actual argument, your actual judgement under time pressure — in a way that simply isn't true of Critical Thinking or Problem Solving, where a tutor only ever sees a number.

That's arguably the opposite of a low-stakes module. A weak Critical Thinking score can be read generously — multiple choice under time pressure is unforgiving, and everyone knows it.

A Writing Task response that's disorganised, rushed, or fails to engage with the actual wording of the statement is far harder to read generously, because there's no scale absorbing the impression it leaves.

It sits in your file exactly as you wrote it, next to your personal statement, for however long that file is looked at.

None of that means panic is useful.

It means treating the 40 minutes with the same seriousness you'd give a scored module, and having a structure ready before you sit down, rather than improvising one in the first five minutes while the clock is already running.

Every TARA Writing Task prompt gives you a single statement — typically a claim about society, ethics, politics, technology, or human behaviour, phrased in fairly general terms — and then asks you to respond to it in three parts:

1. Explain what is meant by the statement. Show that you understand what the claim is actually saying, including any terms doing a lot of work that could be read more than one way.

2. Give a reasoned argument against the statement. Build the strongest case you can that the statement is wrong, overstated, or incomplete — regardless of what you personally believe.

3. Say how far you agree with the statement, and why. State your own position clearly, and support it with your own reasoning rather than simply repeating what you wrote in parts one and two.

Notice what this rewards.

It isn't rewarding a strong opinion delivered fast — it's rewarding the ability to represent a claim fairly, argue against it properly even if you don't believe the counter-case, and then reach and defend your own judgement once both sides are actually on the table.

That's a different skill from either MCQ module:

Critical Thinking asks you to evaluate someone else's argument, and Problem Solving asks you to work through given information to a definite answer.

Writing Task asks you to construct an argument yourself, under the added constraint of representing a position you may disagree with, fairly, before you get to disagree with it.

Forty minutes and a maximum of 750 words sounds generous until you actually sit down with a blank page and a statement you've never seen before.

A workable split looks like this:

Roughly 5 to 10 minutes reading and planning before you write a single sentence of your answer.

This is time spent choosing between the three prompts, unpacking the statement, and roughing out what each of the three parts will actually argue — not time spent drafting.

Skip this and you tend to notice, three sentences into part two, that you've misread the statement or picked the weaker prompt of the three on offer.

Around 28 to 32 minutes writing. At 750 words, that's roughly 25 words a minute — comfortable for continuous writing once you're not also deciding what to say as you go, which is exactly what the planning step is for.

A few minutes at the end to reread. Not to rewrite — there usually isn't time for that — but to catch a dropped word, an unfinished sentence, or a paragraph that trails off before it makes its point.

Remember dictionaries are banned throughout TARA, including in this module, so spelling and word choice have to hold up unaided.

Note that this module is unlikely to be marked on raw word count — 750 is a ceiling, not a target you need to hit exactly — but a response that runs to 300 words rarely has room to do all three parts justice, and one that's still going at word 900 has usually spent too long on one part at the expense of the others.

The official TARA Question Guide sets out how the Writing Task is meant to be approached, and it's worth reading closely rather than skimming, because most of it is about the quality of your reasoning rather than your prose style.

The guidance below is a plain-English walk-through of that advice, point by point.

1. Plan for 5 to 10 minutes before you write. A rough plan for all three parts, even a few lines each, prevents you from writing yourself into a corner halfway through.

2. Group similar points together rather than listing them as they occur to you. Three related points made in one paragraph read as an argument; the same three points scattered across the response read as a list.

3. Engage closely with the actual wording of the statement. Respond to what it says, not to a nearby topic you find easier to write about. A strong answer keeps returning to the statement's specific phrasing rather than drifting into the subject area in general.

4. Take a nuanced view of abstract terms. Words like freedom, fairness, progress, or success are doing real work in most prompts, and they rarely mean only one thing. Naming that ambiguity, and choosing a defensible reading of it, is part of what's being assessed.

5. Always see both sides. Even in the part where you're arguing your own view, a response that never acknowledges the strongest version of the opposing case reads as one-sided rather than reasoned.

6. Use targeted, concrete examples without overgeneralising from them. One specific, well-chosen example illustrating a point beats several vague ones, and a single example should support a limited claim, not be stretched to prove something far broader than it can actually carry.

7. Strengthen the counter-argument with a range of points, not just one. The argument against the statement is more persuasive, and reads as more even-handed, when it draws on more than a single line of reasoning.

8. Express your own view clearly, and support it by reference to your own arguments — don't just summarise what's already been said. The final part needs a genuine judgement, defended with reasoning of its own, rather than a restatement of parts one and two dressed up as a conclusion.

Because the three-part shape doesn't change between prompts, it's worth having a paragraph structure ready before you walk in, so the only thing you're improvising on the day is the content, not the shape.

Here's one built directly around the guidance above and a 750-word, 40-minute budget.

Why the opening carries more weight than it looks like it should

A short, controlled opening does two jobs at once. It shows the reader you've understood the statement precisely — which matters directly, per the official guidance above, since engaging closely with the actual wording is being assessed from the first sentence.

And it forces you to decide, before you start writing part one properly, exactly which reading of the statement's key term you're committing to. Deciding that in the plan, rather than discovering it mid-paragraph, is most of what keeps a response from drifting.

Why the argument against deserves the most words

Part two is where "strengthen the counter-argument with a range of points" and "use targeted concrete examples without overgeneralising" both live, and both take room to do properly.

Two grouped points, each carrying one specific example, reads as considerably more substantial than four or five points each asserted in a single sentence.

If you only have time to do one part well, this is usually the one that most separates a strong response from an average one, because it's the part most candidates rush.

Why the final part needs to argue, not summarise

The most common weak ending is a paragraph that restates parts one and two and calls the restatement a conclusion.

The guidance is explicit that this part needs its own reasoning: state where you land, say clearly which of the counter-arguments from part two you find persuasive and which you don't, and explain why — in your own words, with your own logic, not as a recap.