mithrandir8

Got the email that NYU isn't taking from their waitlist this year and sent my acceptance to Pitt!

Got the email that NYU isn't taking from their waitlist this year and sent my acceptance to Pitt!

I accepted an offer from UMass this week! 

Accepted my offer from GSU this week. (!!!)

Accepted my offer from UC-Davis. I’m glad to be done with this application season, and excited for this coming fall. ?

I've accepted Yale, for the joint program in Classics and Philosophy (Classics track)
Declined Stanford and Toronto today and took myself off NYU waitlist

Most depts are flexible if you tell them that this is the situation.

Maybe a silly question, but, does anyone know if there a particular time on April 15th by which decisions must be made? 11:59pm? Haha

I think this varies by Department. Some say 4 pm which really sucks if that's a school in the East Coast but your waiting for a school in the West Coast! 

I just accepted my offer from Pitt :))))))

This is a good point of how the departments have something to do with this too.  I mean Stanford only released, what, two weeks ago? Late decisions and visits must put a lot of pressure on people and encourage some delays.

I hope this indicates that many people are just waiting for very late visits, as UVA's is mere days before the deadline. Then after they visit, they'll make a decision on the 13th or 14th--though that's not too much time for others to act, it is better than 5pm on the 15th.
Though I'd say in general, you're probably correct--with so many people holding onto waitlists until the last minute while sitting on other acceptances, it's going to make for a crazy day on April 15th. I'd say almost moreso than usual, given the late visit times so many schools seem to be having this year. We'll all have to do our best to be conscientious of our offers and waitlists and give others as much room as possible. 
One thing I highly recommend waitlisters do as we near April 15th is to get in contact with schools to determine likelihood of getting off the waitlist. Especially on the 14th or 15th, if you reach out to them, you'll get a much clearer picture of expectations going forward than if you just wait for their email. I know they're probably all going to be very overwhelmed on those days, but if you look at last year's April 15 thread, a lot of people did get responses to their emails and were more informed about their status as a result. It'll help you make a timely decision if you remain in contact, I'd imagine. Of course if anyone who has applied in previous years has any input on this point, please share!

I was going to make a comment about reasons to apply, but @mithrandir8 has pretty much covered it - great post!  My adviser told me that a good reason to apply to grad school for philosophy is if you think you would like to read and write and talk about philosophy for about five years, regardless of what happens beyond that. So your interest should be for grad school in philosophy itself, not extrinsic aims - basically what mithrandir8 said in their first point!
For what it's worth, I think 'access, networking, conferences and hopefully to write and collaborate with others' is therefore a pretty good reason to want to apply (as long as you aren't expecting any guaranteed rewards out of those!). Big reason I want to go to grad school is basically so that I might discuss and learn about philosophy with people who are a lot smarter than I am!
I do think the warnings from Duns Eith and others are important, and to be considered by anyone thinking about applying.
 
Apart from this side-discussion, to your original question. I agree with others who have said your age by itself shouldn't be an impediment. I think the greater hurdle as you go forward, though, might be the fact that you've been out of academia for quite a while now. That doesn't make it 'too late' for you, but it probably will mean you'll have to take some steps to show that you're still up for it. Do you plan to get letters from your undergrad professors/instructors? Probably the most important thing would be to get in touch with them as soon as possible, and let them know what your plans are. I'd suggest doing this as early as you can, since, unlike current/recent students, they'll need much more information from you to be able to write something. They might also be able to give you good advice on how to go forward. If you're planning to get letters or advice from a different set of philosophers, you should also do that early, for the same reasons.
It's really good to hear about people continuing to be so interested in philosophy. Good luck, I hope it works out!

I think it's awesome to want to get back into philosophy! I think it'll be important for you to really focus on why you want to pursue grad school and why you might not want to pursue it, especially given the emotional attachments you're likely to have to your options. Here's my limited view of your situation:
Good reason(s) to try to go:
You want to experience graduate study in philosophy I think this may be basically the only really good reason to apply to grad school. As your posts above suggested, however, this can be a weighty consideration. There are things you just want to study, learn, and write about in an intense way that can't be replicated by treating philosophy as a hobby. This is the reason that has motivated me to pursue a graduate career and I will happily defend its weightiness! Bad reason(s) to try to go:
You want to get a job in professional philosophy This is just not a good reason to go to grad school anymore. While we can all aim to get one of these coveted positions, as my undergrad adviser once said, "only go to grad school if you would still go if you knew ahead of time that you would have to do something else if you graduate."  It seems like you're up for that, but it should be noted. It's what you've always planned on or imagined doing I tend to think this is just not a good form for a reason in general. Independent of other considerations, such as reasons that following the plan is a good idea, one's planning to do X is just not a reason to do X. I do think this is a pretty prominent psychological tendency however, so it's something to look out for. Just because past you thought you'd be in grad school by now doesn't mean present you should go. You experience regret about past events that prevented you from going to grad school or nostalgia for your younger aspirations This is a really relatable emotion, and I frequently find myself thinking that I can somehow undo or make up for past decisions if I do something different now. But once you spell out that that's why you want to do something, it isn't hard to see that that's not really a rational way to make life choices. Good reason(s) not to try to go: 
Grad school would expose you to unacceptable risks Grad school can produce horrible career outcomes, life outcomes, etc. as people often discuss on this forum. While this is true for all applicants, a person's risk profile often does change with age. With respect to this decision, for example, a younger person might be able to begin a second career and still save substantially for a retirement if his or her philosophy plans go belly up. This might be substantially harder for an older person, who may also face a different set of options for an alternative career. This consideration will vary depending on what your options will be if everything goes wrong, of course. If you're really confident you could resume your old career after a decade (give or take) doing philosophy, then maybe that assuages the worries to some degree. Bad reason(s) not to try to go:
You worry that you won't fit in/your age will make it harder to network This isn't a formally bad reason, I just don't think it's very likely to be a problem. A lot of people in graduate programs are older, at least by the end of their programs (I'll be 32 if I graduate in 6 years) so it's not like professors always deal with students in their twenties. I think your fellow students and professors will be happy to hear what you have to say and engage with you without problems. And even if there was some friction, I'm not sure that would be a decisive reason not to study what you want to study. You worry that you won't be seen as a serious candidate I'm not sure why this would be a reason not to try. If you're willing to risk the years of opportunity cost that go along with graduate study (along with everything else), why not risk a few hundred bucks to see if some programs might be interested? If this was a point about job market competitiveness, I would refer you to the point above about why wanting to get a philosophy job isn't a good enough reason to try to go to graduate school. You are anxious/embarrassed etc. about being a nontraditional applicant I'm not sure if this is something that you're feeling, but it's another very relatable emotion that might be involved in a choice like this. I get nervous going to shoot some basketball at the park because I'm bad and the part of my brain that enables me to survive as a social animal gives me a talking to about deviating from norms in public. This is, of course, a great strategy for never playing any basketball, and I have to resist this impulse if I want to grow and enjoy my hobby. I feel the same way about your kind of choice. It might feel like grad school is somehow "not for you" because your path was a little different, but that's not a feeling that's really tracking anything important about the situation. If it's what you really love, do it, even if it feels weird. How you balance these things will have to be up to you, but I think those are the reasons I would be weighing in your position.

I think it's awesome to want to get back into philosophy! I think it'll be important for you to really focus on why you want to pursue grad school and why you might not want to pursue it, especially given the emotional attachments you're likely to have to your options. Here's my limited view of your situation:
Good reason(s) to try to go:
You want to experience graduate study in philosophy I think this may be basically the only really good reason to apply to grad school. As your posts above suggested, however, this can be a weighty consideration. There are things you just want to study, learn, and write about in an intense way that can't be replicated by treating philosophy as a hobby. This is the reason that has motivated me to pursue a graduate career and I will happily defend its weightiness! Bad reason(s) to try to go:
You want to get a job in professional philosophy This is just not a good reason to go to grad school anymore. While we can all aim to get one of these coveted positions, as my undergrad adviser once said, "only go to grad school if you would still go if you knew ahead of time that you would have to do something else if you graduate."  It seems like you're up for that, but it should be noted. It's what you've always planned on or imagined doing I tend to think this is just not a good form for a reason in general. Independent of other considerations, such as reasons that following the plan is a good idea, one's planning to do X is just not a reason to do X. I do think this is a pretty prominent psychological tendency however, so it's something to look out for. Just because past you thought you'd be in grad school by now doesn't mean present you should go. You experience regret about past events that prevented you from going to grad school or nostalgia for your younger aspirations This is a really relatable emotion, and I frequently find myself thinking that I can somehow undo or make up for past decisions if I do something different now. But once you spell out that that's why you want to do something, it isn't hard to see that that's not really a rational way to make life choices. Good reason(s) not to try to go: 
Grad school would expose you to unacceptable risks Grad school can produce horrible career outcomes, life outcomes, etc. as people often discuss on this forum. While this is true for all applicants, a person's risk profile often does change with age. With respect to this decision, for example, a younger person might be able to begin a second career and still save substantially for a retirement if his or her philosophy plans go belly up. This might be substantially harder for an older person, who may also face a different set of options for an alternative career. This consideration will vary depending on what your options will be if everything goes wrong, of course. If you're really confident you could resume your old career after a decade (give or take) doing philosophy, then maybe that assuages the worries to some degree. Bad reason(s) not to try to go:
You worry that you won't fit in/your age will make it harder to network This isn't a formally bad reason, I just don't think it's very likely to be a problem. A lot of people in graduate programs are older, at least by the end of their programs (I'll be 32 if I graduate in 6 years) so it's not like professors always deal with students in their twenties. I think your fellow students and professors will be happy to hear what you have to say and engage with you without problems. And even if there was some friction, I'm not sure that would be a decisive reason not to study what you want to study. You worry that you won't be seen as a serious candidate I'm not sure why this would be a reason not to try. If you're willing to risk the years of opportunity cost that go along with graduate study (along with everything else), why not risk a few hundred bucks to see if some programs might be interested? If this was a point about job market competitiveness, I would refer you to the point above about why wanting to get a philosophy job isn't a good enough reason to try to go to graduate school. You are anxious/embarrassed etc. about being a nontraditional applicant I'm not sure if this is something that you're feeling, but it's another very relatable emotion that might be involved in a choice like this. I get nervous going to shoot some basketball at the park because I'm bad and the part of my brain that enables me to survive as a social animal gives me a talking to about deviating from norms in public. This is, of course, a great strategy for never playing any basketball, and I have to resist this impulse if I want to grow and enjoy my hobby. I feel the same way about your kind of choice. It might feel like grad school is somehow "not for you" because your path was a little different, but that's not a feeling that's really tracking anything important about the situation. If it's what you really love, do it, even if it feels weird. How you balance these things will have to be up to you, but I think those are the reasons I would be weighing in your position.

I think it's awesome to want to get back into philosophy! I think it'll be important for you to really focus on why you want to pursue grad school and why you might not want to pursue it, especially given the emotional attachments you're likely to have to your options. Here's my limited view of your situation:
Good reason(s) to try to go:
You want to experience graduate study in philosophy I think this may be basically the only really good reason to apply to grad school. As your posts above suggested, however, this can be a weighty consideration. There are things you just want to study, learn, and write about in an intense way that can't be replicated by treating philosophy as a hobby. This is the reason that has motivated me to pursue a graduate career and I will happily defend its weightiness! Bad reason(s) to try to go:
You want to get a job in professional philosophy This is just not a good reason to go to grad school anymore. While we can all aim to get one of these coveted positions, as my undergrad adviser once said, "only go to grad school if you would still go if you knew ahead of time that you would have to do something else if you graduate."  It seems like you're up for that, but it should be noted. It's what you've always planned on or imagined doing I tend to think this is just not a good form for a reason in general. Independent of other considerations, such as reasons that following the plan is a good idea, one's planning to do X is just not a reason to do X. I do think this is a pretty prominent psychological tendency however, so it's something to look out for. Just because past you thought you'd be in grad school by now doesn't mean present you should go. You experience regret about past events that prevented you from going to grad school or nostalgia for your younger aspirations This is a really relatable emotion, and I frequently find myself thinking that I can somehow undo or make up for past decisions if I do something different now. But once you spell out that that's why you want to do something, it isn't hard to see that that's not really a rational way to make life choices. Good reason(s) not to try to go: 
Grad school would expose you to unacceptable risks Grad school can produce horrible career outcomes, life outcomes, etc. as people often discuss on this forum. While this is true for all applicants, a person's risk profile often does change with age. With respect to this decision, for example, a younger person might be able to begin a second career and still save substantially for a retirement if his or her philosophy plans go belly up. This might be substantially harder for an older person, who may also face a different set of options for an alternative career. This consideration will vary depending on what your options will be if everything goes wrong, of course. If you're really confident you could resume your old career after a decade (give or take) doing philosophy, then maybe that assuages the worries to some degree. Bad reason(s) not to try to go:
You worry that you won't fit in/your age will make it harder to network This isn't a formally bad reason, I just don't think it's very likely to be a problem. A lot of people in graduate programs are older, at least by the end of their programs (I'll be 32 if I graduate in 6 years) so it's not like professors always deal with students in their twenties. I think your fellow students and professors will be happy to hear what you have to say and engage with you without problems. And even if there was some friction, I'm not sure that would be a decisive reason not to study what you want to study. You worry that you won't be seen as a serious candidate I'm not sure why this would be a reason not to try. If you're willing to risk the years of opportunity cost that go along with graduate study (along with everything else), why not risk a few hundred bucks to see if some programs might be interested? If this was a point about job market competitiveness, I would refer you to the point above about why wanting to get a philosophy job isn't a good enough reason to try to go to graduate school. You are anxious/embarrassed etc. about being a nontraditional applicant I'm not sure if this is something that you're feeling, but it's another very relatable emotion that might be involved in a choice like this. I get nervous going to shoot some basketball at the park because I'm bad and the part of my brain that enables me to survive as a social animal gives me a talking to about deviating from norms in public. This is, of course, a great strategy for never playing any basketball, and I have to resist this impulse if I want to grow and enjoy my hobby. I feel the same way about your kind of choice. It might feel like grad school is somehow "not for you" because your path was a little different, but that's not a feeling that's really tracking anything important about the situation. If it's what you really love, do it, even if it feels weird. How you balance these things will have to be up to you, but I think those are the reasons I would be weighing in your position.

Trust me, I understand the sentiment, and I'm thankful for the candor. I felt a bit robbed of the possibility, and understand there is some romanticizing/nostalgia going on. I do think that my stated reasons are worth it, however. Of course, I'd love to teach, and I'd teach anywhere if provided that opportunity, but I don't believe I understated the value that a graduate education has on continued access to academia as well as future collaborators. There is simply more opportunity with than without. Now are these opportunities financially profitable? Doubtful, but perhaps worth it nonetheless. 
I've moved around my entire life, and I've grown accustomed to it. I don't have, nor plan on children. At the moment, my life will be what it is for the foreseeable future with likely opportunity for career growth in a field I am skilled in and tolerate. That's more than a lot of folks, I get that, and I'm not trying to look a gift horse in the mouth. If this risk proves an abject failure, It wouldn't take much to get back into the swing of things in my current career. If even remotely successful, I'd have my graduate education, new colleagues, hopefully some collaborators, probably some debt, and I'll probably find myself competing for comm. coll. teaching gigs, not get them, smile and thank them for the opportunity. 
All this to say, I understand the risks, but I feel my values, attitude, and current place in life welcome these very risks. 

In at Stanford, notified by email Friday night March 22

I actually think that we should have a very low view of how much we know about the admissions process.  Moreover, we have reason to be very skeptical about the value of this kind of forum advice as to how to improve application chances. While certain baseline information, such as the information in Eric Schwitzgebel's guide, is valuable, I doubt that all that much more can reliably be said about how to do well in the process.
To begin with, our ability to infer from application results is very limited. For example, if I understand the posts above, @Marcus_Aurelius and @crunderdunder took roughly contrasting approaches to the preparation of their writing samples. Marcus spent a long time writing and rewriting a paper on a single topic that they chose based on how they wanted to fit into the current literature (to be accessible, current, etc.). This was also my approach. Crunder spent the majority of their time exploring a topic area, with much less time dedicated to drafting. Both completely crushed the process, making mockeries of us mere mortals, for whom rejections blotted out the sun and withered plants in their shade. Do I have any reason to think that I would have performed more like Crunder if I had adopted their method? I can't see that I do. It's just as possible that I would have been making things worse by working in a way less natural to me.
More generally, the few things we can say with confidence—that, ceteris paribus, it is better to have higher grades, higher GREs, a better writing sample, a more prestigious undergrad, etc.—do not produce helpful advice. When I struck out the first time I applied, it wasn't because I wasn't trying to get the best grades, the most prominent letter writers etc. Even considering the question of how these different factors relate to each other, we don't know much. It seems pretty likely that the writing sample is the most important feature, as @brookspn argued. But was their strategy of spending very little time on the personal statements the way to go? I strongly suspect personal statements were important to my application (though I don't really know!). And are there always tradeoffs? I worked on my writing sample until it was basically as good as I thought I could make it and then set to work on my personal statements. If people do find themselves facing hard tradeoffs, I certainly can't see any basis for advising them when the marginal unit of work on one factor stops being as valuable as the marginal unit of work on another.
If you're looking for practically salient advice, you want information that affects one of your choices. But beyond various platitudes, I don't think there's very much that qualifies. For instance, the first time I applied, I think my writing sample held me back. But the way I selected my writing sample was by picking the paper that I had spent the most time on, had the most feedback on, and that was the most skillful work I had done so far. I can't say with any confidence that those are bad ways to choose a paper, even if I know now that paper was bad. I'm not sure I've actually learned anything about the application process itself since, even if I've gotten better at assessing philosophy papers. This time, I wrote a better paper, and I did try to pick a topic that I thought was more likely to appeal to more people. But basically my strategy for picking papers didn't change that much; I was just better at writing them because of the intervening years of work.
Lastly, I think the results themselves speak to a great degree of idiosyncrasy. Before hearing back, I had all kinds of reasonable theories about how my application would be received.
I thought that maybe I would do better with programs which had people I had cited in the sample and who were working on the exact topic I wrote on --- Not the case.  I thought that maybe I would do better with programs to which I had the most obvious appeal --- Even though I really really really like Pitt, I had no way of knowing that Pitt would like me. I thought that maybe I would do better with programs which were lower on the PGR and worse with programs higher on the PGR --- Not close. I can't see anything unique about that the three places I wasn't rejected from share. My best guess is basically randomness.
In terms of getting in, all I can recommend for 2020 applicants is to work really hard on doing good philosophy that shows your philosophical skills and to get lots of advice from professors who can help guide your judgment on that. Beyond that, even if the process isn't a "lottery," it might as well be, because we simply don't have that much concrete practical information about how to really get ahead. What I think you can do to help yourself with the application process is prepare yourself emotionally. Hopefully that's something this thread can explore a bit, even if folks disagree with me about the rest.

Me too!

I will accept at Pitt if I don't get accepted off of NYU's waitlist.

I actually think that we should have a very low view of how much we know about the admissions process.  Moreover, we have reason to be very skeptical about the value of this kind of forum advice as to how to improve application chances. While certain baseline information, such as the information in Eric Schwitzgebel's guide, is valuable, I doubt that all that much more can reliably be said about how to do well in the process.
To begin with, our ability to infer from application results is very limited. For example, if I understand the posts above, @Marcus_Aurelius and @crunderdunder took roughly contrasting approaches to the preparation of their writing samples. Marcus spent a long time writing and rewriting a paper on a single topic that they chose based on how they wanted to fit into the current literature (to be accessible, current, etc.). This was also my approach. Crunder spent the majority of their time exploring a topic area, with much less time dedicated to drafting. Both completely crushed the process, making mockeries of us mere mortals, for whom rejections blotted out the sun and withered plants in their shade. Do I have any reason to think that I would have performed more like Crunder if I had adopted their method? I can't see that I do. It's just as possible that I would have been making things worse by working in a way less natural to me.
More generally, the few things we can say with confidence—that, ceteris paribus, it is better to have higher grades, higher GREs, a better writing sample, a more prestigious undergrad, etc.—do not produce helpful advice. When I struck out the first time I applied, it wasn't because I wasn't trying to get the best grades, the most prominent letter writers etc. Even considering the question of how these different factors relate to each other, we don't know much. It seems pretty likely that the writing sample is the most important feature, as @brookspn argued. But was their strategy of spending very little time on the personal statements the way to go? I strongly suspect personal statements were important to my application (though I don't really know!). And are there always tradeoffs? I worked on my writing sample until it was basically as good as I thought I could make it and then set to work on my personal statements. If people do find themselves facing hard tradeoffs, I certainly can't see any basis for advising them when the marginal unit of work on one factor stops being as valuable as the marginal unit of work on another.
If you're looking for practically salient advice, you want information that affects one of your choices. But beyond various platitudes, I don't think there's very much that qualifies. For instance, the first time I applied, I think my writing sample held me back. But the way I selected my writing sample was by picking the paper that I had spent the most time on, had the most feedback on, and that was the most skillful work I had done so far. I can't say with any confidence that those are bad ways to choose a paper, even if I know now that paper was bad. I'm not sure I've actually learned anything about the application process itself since, even if I've gotten better at assessing philosophy papers. This time, I wrote a better paper, and I did try to pick a topic that I thought was more likely to appeal to more people. But basically my strategy for picking papers didn't change that much; I was just better at writing them because of the intervening years of work.
Lastly, I think the results themselves speak to a great degree of idiosyncrasy. Before hearing back, I had all kinds of reasonable theories about how my application would be received.
I thought that maybe I would do better with programs which had people I had cited in the sample and who were working on the exact topic I wrote on --- Not the case.  I thought that maybe I would do better with programs to which I had the most obvious appeal --- Even though I really really really like Pitt, I had no way of knowing that Pitt would like me. I thought that maybe I would do better with programs which were lower on the PGR and worse with programs higher on the PGR --- Not close. I can't see anything unique about that the three places I wasn't rejected from share. My best guess is basically randomness.
In terms of getting in, all I can recommend for 2020 applicants is to work really hard on doing good philosophy that shows your philosophical skills and to get lots of advice from professors who can help guide your judgment on that. Beyond that, even if the process isn't a "lottery," it might as well be, because we simply don't have that much concrete practical information about how to really get ahead. What I think you can do to help yourself with the application process is prepare yourself emotionally. Hopefully that's something this thread can explore a bit, even if folks disagree with me about the rest.

I actually think that we should have a very low view of how much we know about the admissions process.  Moreover, we have reason to be very skeptical about the value of this kind of forum advice as to how to improve application chances. While certain baseline information, such as the information in Eric Schwitzgebel's guide, is valuable, I doubt that all that much more can reliably be said about how to do well in the process.
To begin with, our ability to infer from application results is very limited. For example, if I understand the posts above, @Marcus_Aurelius and @crunderdunder took roughly contrasting approaches to the preparation of their writing samples. Marcus spent a long time writing and rewriting a paper on a single topic that they chose based on how they wanted to fit into the current literature (to be accessible, current, etc.). This was also my approach. Crunder spent the majority of their time exploring a topic area, with much less time dedicated to drafting. Both completely crushed the process, making mockeries of us mere mortals, for whom rejections blotted out the sun and withered plants in their shade. Do I have any reason to think that I would have performed more like Crunder if I had adopted their method? I can't see that I do. It's just as possible that I would have been making things worse by working in a way less natural to me.
More generally, the few things we can say with confidence—that, ceteris paribus, it is better to have higher grades, higher GREs, a better writing sample, a more prestigious undergrad, etc.—do not produce helpful advice. When I struck out the first time I applied, it wasn't because I wasn't trying to get the best grades, the most prominent letter writers etc. Even considering the question of how these different factors relate to each other, we don't know much. It seems pretty likely that the writing sample is the most important feature, as @brookspn argued. But was their strategy of spending very little time on the personal statements the way to go? I strongly suspect personal statements were important to my application (though I don't really know!). And are there always tradeoffs? I worked on my writing sample until it was basically as good as I thought I could make it and then set to work on my personal statements. If people do find themselves facing hard tradeoffs, I certainly can't see any basis for advising them when the marginal unit of work on one factor stops being as valuable as the marginal unit of work on another.
If you're looking for practically salient advice, you want information that affects one of your choices. But beyond various platitudes, I don't think there's very much that qualifies. For instance, the first time I applied, I think my writing sample held me back. But the way I selected my writing sample was by picking the paper that I had spent the most time on, had the most feedback on, and that was the most skillful work I had done so far. I can't say with any confidence that those are bad ways to choose a paper, even if I know now that paper was bad. I'm not sure I've actually learned anything about the application process itself since, even if I've gotten better at assessing philosophy papers. This time, I wrote a better paper, and I did try to pick a topic that I thought was more likely to appeal to more people. But basically my strategy for picking papers didn't change that much; I was just better at writing them because of the intervening years of work.
Lastly, I think the results themselves speak to a great degree of idiosyncrasy. Before hearing back, I had all kinds of reasonable theories about how my application would be received.
I thought that maybe I would do better with programs which had people I had cited in the sample and who were working on the exact topic I wrote on --- Not the case.  I thought that maybe I would do better with programs to which I had the most obvious appeal --- Even though I really really really like Pitt, I had no way of knowing that Pitt would like me. I thought that maybe I would do better with programs which were lower on the PGR and worse with programs higher on the PGR --- Not close. I can't see anything unique about that the three places I wasn't rejected from share. My best guess is basically randomness.
In terms of getting in, all I can recommend for 2020 applicants is to work really hard on doing good philosophy that shows your philosophical skills and to get lots of advice from professors who can help guide your judgment on that. Beyond that, even if the process isn't a "lottery," it might as well be, because we simply don't have that much concrete practical information about how to really get ahead. What I think you can do to help yourself with the application process is prepare yourself emotionally. Hopefully that's something this thread can explore a bit, even if folks disagree with me about the rest.

Just withdrew from Berkeley's waitlist. It's an amazing program, but I felt like I had to just weigh all the considerations I could and make a decision rather than dragging things out any further. Hope it helps someone.
Edit: Sorry, I realized this is in the wrong thread!

I actually think that we should have a very low view of how much we know about the admissions process.  Moreover, we have reason to be very skeptical about the value of this kind of forum advice as to how to improve application chances. While certain baseline information, such as the information in Eric Schwitzgebel's guide, is valuable, I doubt that all that much more can reliably be said about how to do well in the process.
To begin with, our ability to infer from application results is very limited. For example, if I understand the posts above, @Marcus_Aurelius and @crunderdunder took roughly contrasting approaches to the preparation of their writing samples. Marcus spent a long time writing and rewriting a paper on a single topic that they chose based on how they wanted to fit into the current literature (to be accessible, current, etc.). This was also my approach. Crunder spent the majority of their time exploring a topic area, with much less time dedicated to drafting. Both completely crushed the process, making mockeries of us mere mortals, for whom rejections blotted out the sun and withered plants in their shade. Do I have any reason to think that I would have performed more like Crunder if I had adopted their method? I can't see that I do. It's just as possible that I would have been making things worse by working in a way less natural to me.
More generally, the few things we can say with confidence—that, ceteris paribus, it is better to have higher grades, higher GREs, a better writing sample, a more prestigious undergrad, etc.—do not produce helpful advice. When I struck out the first time I applied, it wasn't because I wasn't trying to get the best grades, the most prominent letter writers etc. Even considering the question of how these different factors relate to each other, we don't know much. It seems pretty likely that the writing sample is the most important feature, as @brookspn argued. But was their strategy of spending very little time on the personal statements the way to go? I strongly suspect personal statements were important to my application (though I don't really know!). And are there always tradeoffs? I worked on my writing sample until it was basically as good as I thought I could make it and then set to work on my personal statements. If people do find themselves facing hard tradeoffs, I certainly can't see any basis for advising them when the marginal unit of work on one factor stops being as valuable as the marginal unit of work on another.
If you're looking for practically salient advice, you want information that affects one of your choices. But beyond various platitudes, I don't think there's very much that qualifies. For instance, the first time I applied, I think my writing sample held me back. But the way I selected my writing sample was by picking the paper that I had spent the most time on, had the most feedback on, and that was the most skillful work I had done so far. I can't say with any confidence that those are bad ways to choose a paper, even if I know now that paper was bad. I'm not sure I've actually learned anything about the application process itself since, even if I've gotten better at assessing philosophy papers. This time, I wrote a better paper, and I did try to pick a topic that I thought was more likely to appeal to more people. But basically my strategy for picking papers didn't change that much; I was just better at writing them because of the intervening years of work.
Lastly, I think the results themselves speak to a great degree of idiosyncrasy. Before hearing back, I had all kinds of reasonable theories about how my application would be received.
I thought that maybe I would do better with programs which had people I had cited in the sample and who were working on the exact topic I wrote on --- Not the case.  I thought that maybe I would do better with programs to which I had the most obvious appeal --- Even though I really really really like Pitt, I had no way of knowing that Pitt would like me. I thought that maybe I would do better with programs which were lower on the PGR and worse with programs higher on the PGR --- Not close. I can't see anything unique about that the three places I wasn't rejected from share. My best guess is basically randomness.
In terms of getting in, all I can recommend for 2020 applicants is to work really hard on doing good philosophy that shows your philosophical skills and to get lots of advice from professors who can help guide your judgment on that. Beyond that, even if the process isn't a "lottery," it might as well be, because we simply don't have that much concrete practical information about how to really get ahead. What I think you can do to help yourself with the application process is prepare yourself emotionally. Hopefully that's something this thread can explore a bit, even if folks disagree with me about the rest.