2016年入試

From the inception of his illness, friends in Tokyo and Matsuyama visited him often and sent him letters. This was his greatest pleasure. None of the 11) letters he received was more welcome than those from Natsume Soseki. Soseki and Shiki met in 1884 when they entered the university preparatory school at the same time. At first their acquaintance was casual, but the friendship of the greatest novelist and the greatest poet of the Meiji era became intimate after 1889 and would last until Shad's death, although, apart from their student days and one relatively brief period when they shared a house in Matsuyama, letters were their only means of communication.

Shill and SOseki made an unusual pair. Shill had been brought up in a small town on the island of Shikoku; Soseki was born and raised in Tokyo. Shiki turned to SOseki for advice and for information on exams, but he was astonished by Soseki's ignorance of everyday life. He related in A Drop of Ink that on one occasion the two friends had gone for a stroll in a part of Tokyo that had not been built up. Seedlings that had recently been transplanted to the wet fields were swaying in the wind. Shiki found this sight most attractive. perhaps because it reminded him of Matsuyama. To his astonishment, he discovered that the city-bred Soseki was unaware that these seedlings produced the rice that the Japanese ate every day. (253 words)

I've spent the past twenty years putting myself in foreign surroundings as frequently as possible. There is nothing I love more than traveling to a place where I know nobody, and where everything will be a surprise, and then writing about it.The first time I went to Africa for a story, I was so excited that I barely slept during the entire two-week trip. Everything was new: the taste of springbok meat, the pink haze over Cape Town, the noise and chaos of the corrugated-tin alleyways in Khayelitsha township. I could still feel spikes of adrenaline when I was back at my desk in New York, typing, while my spouse cooked a chicken in the kitchen.

But as my friends, one after another, made the journey from young woman to mother, it glared at me that I had not. I would often listen to a Lou Reed song called "Beginning of a Great Adventure," about the possibilities of imminent parenthood. "A little me or he or she to fill up with my dreams," Lou sings, with ragged hopefulness, "a way of saying life is not a loss." It became the soundtrack to my mulling on motherhood. I knew that a child would make life as a professional explorer largely impossible. But having a kid seemed in many ways like the wildest trip of all.

I always get terrified right before I travel. I become convinced that this time will be different: I won't be able to figure out the map, or communicate with non-English speakers, or find the people I need in order to write the story I've been sent in search of. I will be lost and incompetent and vulnerable. I know that my panic will turn to excitement once I'm there — it always does — but that doesn't make the fear before takeoff any less vivid. So it was with childbearing: I was afraid for ten years. I didn't like childhood, and I was afraid that I'd have a child who didn't, either. I was afraid I would be an awful mother. And I was afraid of being grounded, sessile — stuck in one spot for eighteen years of oboe lessons and math homework that I couldn't finish the first time around.

Ariel Levy, "Thanksgiving in Mongolia: Adventure and heartbreak at the edge of the earth,"

The state of California is asking a basic question right now that people often fight over: What's a fair way to divide up something that's scarce and valuable? That "something," in this case, is water.

There's a lot at stake, including your very own nuts, fruits and vegetables, because most of the water that's up for grabs in California goes to farmers. This year, some farmers will get water, and others will not, simply based on when their land was first irrigated.

Leon Szeptycki, who is executive director of a program called Water in the West at the Stanford Woods Institute for the Environment, says that this first-come, first-served system made sense in the 19th century. "We wanted people to come, settle the land, cultivate the land, and we wanted them to have secure water rights," he says. It prompted agricultural development.

But Szeptycki says this system is not so great when it comes to responding to drought.

When water is really scarce, he says, people might say that it should go first to ensure public safety and health, then to irrigate the most valuable crops, like almond orchards.

In other parts of the economy, prices do this job. When there's a critical shortage of something, whether it's gasoline or gold, people bid up the price. Then, because it's expensive, people who need it less decide to buy less.

But there's not much of a market for irrigation water, Szeptycki says. If you're first in line for water, it's still pretty cheap, "and so there's no incentive to be particularly efficient with your water. You're a senior water right holder, you get your water even in times of shortage. You kind of do whatever you want with it." Some farmers, for instance, are still using that water to grow alfalfa, which demands a lot of water and goes to feed animals, especially dairy cattle.

Despite those problems, Szeptycki says that government officials are not seriously piwash* any fundamental change to the water rules, because for farmers, it would be as shocking and disruptive as reshuffling land, or bank accounts.

The basic rules governing water in the West are not about to change, says Stanford University's Leon Szeptycki, but the drought is forcing farmers to change how they use it. They're getting so little water these days that they are rationing it, using it only on their most valuable crops. The amount of land devoted to less-valuable crops like alfalfa and corn and cotton has been shrinking. Some farmers are even their water to other fanners — or even cities —who need it more.

These changes are happening more slowly than he'd like, says Szeptycki, but they are happening. (449 words)

(http://www.npr.orgisections/thesalt/2015/04/15/398607800/ redistribute-californias-water-not-without-a-fight)

【松山】

There are around 6, 000 living languages in the world, and at least half of those are under serious threat. In every part of the world, languages are disappearing. In fact, one scientist has said that languages are facing a bigger risk of dying out than birds and mammals. "The threats to birds and mammals are well known, but it turns out that languages are far more threatened," said Professor Bill Sutherland, a population biologist at the University of East Anglia in Norwich, UK. Professor Sutherland calculated that over the past 500 years, about 4. 5 per cent of the total number of world languages have disappeared, compared with 1. 3 per cent of birds and 1. 9 per cent of mammals.

Some 300 languages have more than a million speakers. They're the healthy ones ---　Mandarin Chinese, English and Spanish are the most widely spoken. Ten major languages are the mother tongues of almost half the world's population. But the median size* of speakers for languages in the world is just 6, 000, so half the languages in the world are spoken by that number or fewer.

Languages, like so many other forms of human expression, come and go, and thousands have done exactly that without leaving any trace of ever having existed. Only a very few -Basque, Greek, Hebrew, Latin among them -have lasted more than 2, 000 years. But it seems that the pace of their disappearance is becoming ever quicker. UNESCO claims that the rate of language loss has reached ten every year.

The Ethnologue, a database of all the languages spoken in the world, 'claims that 417 languages are spoken by so few people that they are in the final stages of dying out. There is only one living speaker of Luo in Cameroon, and just a few people that speak the Saami Pite language in Sweden and Norway. Where once languages flourished in small isolated areas, there are now very few that are not in regular contact with the rest of the world. Speaking an internationally recognized language is a clear advantage for people who want to make the most of the opportunities contact brings. Eventually, people may not realize their children aren't learning their native language.

Languages may also be lost when people move from small rural communities to urban centers, or environments are destroyed by the search for oil or timber. Natural disasters can also lay waste to populations and along with them, their language ---like the speakers of the Paulo language in Maluku, Indonesia, of whom all but 50 were killed by an earthquake and a tsunami.

In addition, governments are partly responsible for the loss of languages. The perceived need to establish `official languages,' in which a country would educate its children, conduct its political affairs and carry out its business, had a disastrous effect on many small languages. Up until the 1970s, Aborigines* in Australia were forbidden to speak in their own languages-which once numbered more than 400. Now, according to the Atlas of the World's Languages in Danger of Disappearing, only about 25 Aboriginal languages are still commonly spoken.

What is lost if a language is lost? There are some who argue that the death of languages is merely a symptom of the gradual evolution of our species, where universal communication is prized. Obviously, there could be great benefits if everyone in the world spoke the same language. Some industries already reflect this. For instance, English has been essential for pilots and air traffic controllers. But it's clear that there is far more at stake* than mere convenience. As languages are lost, whole ways of life and sets of knowledge may be lost along with them. Complex religious and social ceremonies disappear; oral histories* die through lack of telling. Information about plants, animals and environments gathered through generations may never be passed on. Put simply, language expresses something about identity, about our place in the world. Ain Rauhihi, a Maori teacher in New Zealand's North Island, sums it up: "If you grow up not speaking your language. you won't know who you are. "

It seems the world may be starting to realize what it ( d ) lose. It may be too late for the languages where only a few speakers remain. The chances are they're elderly, speak their mother tongue very little, and have forgotten many of the words they once knew. But it seems that at last the value of these languages is being recognized, and that is the first step to stopping their loss.

【東海・医】

Over the last thirty years, the hair-loss treatment industry has become big business. According to a 2014 global market research report, it is a four-billion-dollar market in the US alone, which accounts for almost 40 percent of the total global revenue in this industry. Companies in the business of hair-loss treatment develop and sell various commercial products that may prevent or reverse hair loss, including shampoos, lotions, vitamins, and products like laser-equipped hairbrushes. [ 1 1, there are approximately 250 such companies operating in the US. However, no single company has more than five percent of the market share. Medical and surgical treatments are also available, but none has provided a permanent solution.

In a 2015 article, a research team at the University of Southern California (USC) revealed that they might have discovered a treatment for human hair loss through experiments on laboratory animals. As strange as it sounds, they found that pulling hairs out could actually stimulate new hair growth. The USC scientists based the claims on their investigation of a microbiological phenomenon known as "quorum sensing." Quorum sensing is not a new discovery. Four decades ago, this phenomenon was seen by a group of Harvard scientists in colonies of bacteria It was observed that when bacteria are under attack, they send signals to one another in order to maintain healthy population densities. The USC; scientists then developed a research question: could quorum sensing influence hair density in the same way it influences the density of bacteria populations?

When applied to hair follicles", the researchers found that damage caused by hair plucking triggered the sending of "distress signals" to immune cells, calling them to the injury site. These immune cells encourage both damaged and undamaged hair follicles to grow new hair. In their experiment, the team plucked 200 hairs from the back of a mouse, one by one, in a number of different patterns. They succeeded in regenerating up to 1,300 new hairs. At first, they found that plucking hairs from a region greater than 6 mm in diameter did not generate any new hairs. 2 ], plucking hairs from an area 3 to 5 nom in diameter led to new hair growth, even outside of the plucked area.

It might be premature to conclude that the research team has found a way to regenerate new and healthy hair, as this procedure has not yet been tested on people. Some have also pointed out that it might be challenging to regrow hair over an entire head from areas as small as 3 mm. Nevertheless, many scientists are hopeful that the results of this research can be applied to finding cures for treating baldness and hair follicle injuries. Many companies around the world have invested money in the industry, and the researchers in this field are collaborating with them to come up with a method of reversing hair loss. Effective products may be available in the near future.　(488 words)

【九州国際】

The Harry Potter fantasy series is the most popular series of books in publishing history. The seven book series has sold more than 450 million copies worldwide and has been translated into 73 languages. The books were soon made into films by Warner Bros. Pictures. Harry Potter and his adventures are known to people of all ages around the world, but what do we know about the person who created him?

Joanne Rowling was born in England in 1965. After studying French at university, Rowling became a researcher for the humanitarian organization, Amnesty International. Rowling first had the idea for the Harry Potter story when she was waiting for a train one day.

Rowling's mother died while she was writing the first Harry Potter tale. The death of her mother had a very strong effect on Rowling and this is reflected in the Harry Potter books. Rowling is able to describe the loneliness and emotional pain Harry feels as a child growing up without parents.

When Rowling wrote the first Harry Potter book, Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, she was very poor. Having recently divorced from her husband, Rowling wrote the book while taking care of her young baby daughter. Rowling wrote most of the book in cafes close to her home because her baby would fall asleep during the walk there.

If you look at any Harry Potter book cover, you will see the author's name printed as J.K. Rowling. Rowling believed that some boys wouldn't want to read a book written by a woman, so she chose to use initial letters instead of her full first name. Joanne Rowling doesn't actually have a middle name in real life. The K stands for Kathleen, which was the name of her grandmother.

At first, Rowling had difficulty finding a publisher who would agree to print her story. However, after eventually signing a contract with the publishing company Bloomsbury, the book sold well and received positive reviews. Rowling's book went on to win several awards for best children's book Harry Potter became a household name in a short space of time and Rowling went from being a poor, single mother to one of the richest women in the United Kingdom.

In just ten years, Rowling finished writing all seven books of the Harry Potter series. Since then, Rowling has also written three books for adult readers. In 2001, Rowling remarried and has two daughters and a son. Rowling now gives a lot of her time and money to charities, but she will always be best known for the schoolboy magician who captured the imaginations of children and adults around the world.

【岡山・前期】

The seawater by Tokyo's Kasai Rinkai Park is only slightly cooler than body temperature, and its beach contains a mix of tiny gravel and seashell fragments instead of fine white sand.

The beach is far from a perfect summer holiday spot. The skyline of the metropolis is visible in the distance, and no palm trees are in sight. But for Yuzo Sekiguchi, opening the small strip on Tokyo Bay for swimmers was a dream five decades in the making.

"Beginning this year one can enjoy and swim at the beach without having to leave Tokyo," Sekiguchi, 65, who played a key role in opening the Kasai Rinkai Park beach, said in a recent interview with The Japan Times. "Kids in Tokyo say they visit the ocean during the summer, but in Hawaii or their grandmother's hometown outside Tokyo. Now, a beach can be found right here," he said.

Tokyo's seashore was originally a great leisure spot for its residents. Children would swim in the bay and dig for clams in mud flats in early summer. During the winter, the bay provided rich seaweed. Sekiguchi said he would often go fishing with friends and capture sea bass during his childhood in the city. But such activities had been lost for half a century due to the nation's high-speed industrialization that saw water quality get worse. Artificial island and land-extension projects also reshaped Tokyo's waterfront, forcing beaches in Shinagawa and Omori to shut down in the 1950s. Eventually, all beaches in the capital were closed by 1962. "As the country grew economically, I felt that we were losing something very important," Sekiguchi, who works as an architect, said of that time.

What drove the Tokyo native to take action in reviving the beaches was a trip to western Asia when he was 30. "I traveled through India, Pakistan, Afghanistan and other parts of the region. The eyes of the people I met shined bright, especially the children," he said, recalling how they'd gather firewood at night and share it with travelers.

In Japan, most of the children he knew were attending cram schools. They never interacted with nature and instead were focused on getting into elite colleges and obtaining decent jobs. "I thought (2) something was wrong, and that adults had the ( M ) to change such an environment for children," Sekiguchi said

Upon returning to Tokyo he launched a nonprofit organization in 1977 that focused on reviving the city's nature and environment. Its core project was to restore the beaches in Tokyo Bay. Improving the seawater quality along Tokyo's shores proved to be a challenge -- but not the biggest one, according to Sekiguchi.

"The local government was extremely reluctant to take ( 0 ) for what we were aiming to do. The administration was slow in getting anything done," Sekiguchi said. "I couldn't tell what bureaucrats and politicians existed for. It appeared as if they were there to bind the public to their rules," he said, as his NPO sought ways to reopen the beach.

The opening of Kasai Rinkai Park beach this year is still conditional, with local authorities not taking ( ). Swimming is allowed only during weekends between July and August, and visitors are only allowed to enter the water waist deep. Diving is prohibited. According to the park website, the beach will be closed in the event of rain, poor water clarity, high waves, strong winds, or when lightning warnings are issued. In addition, the metro government also stressed that the beach opening does not fall under its ( C) ) but rather that of the organizers — Sekiguchi's NPO.

"It took a lot of effort to reach this point. We had to study the water quality repeatedly and provide data to convince them it was safe," Sekiguchi said. "It was extremely difficult to get the local government to act. But I think we managed to do that, at least a bit."

Hints for improving seawater, meanwhile, came from Chesapeake Bay on the U.S. East Coast. "I read about a project in Chesapeake Bay where locals used oysters to improve water quality," Sekiguchi noted. He also added that one single oyster is known to clean 200 to 400 liters of water every day. His group tested the oyster method first in a river in Edogawa Ward, Tokyo, before applying it to Kasai Rinkai Park.

For decades, seawater by the park was considered unsafe to swim in. But it improved quickly and the area's water quality today is at the same level as Inage Beach in Chiba Prefecture. After installing protective offshore fences to prevent rays from entering the swimming area, the beach was ready for visitors.

When Sekiguchi and his group organized a two-day trial beach opening, it gathered more than 3,000 people. This year, the beach is welcoming people by the thousands every day. 'This is just the beginning," Sekiguchi said of his broader project to revive Tokyo's beaches, explaining that measures taken at Kasai Rinkai Park will be applied to other shores in the city. (842 words)

Recovery, however you define it, is not something you do alone, and my recovery was completely influenced by everyone around me. I desperately needed people to treat me as though I would recover completely. Regardless of whether it would take three months, two years, 20 years, or a lifetime, I needed people to have faith in my continued ability to learn, heal, and grow. The brain is a marvelously dynamic and ever-changing organ. My brain was thrilled with new stimulation, and when balanced with an adequate amount of sleep, it was capable of miraculous healing.

I have heard doctors say, "If you don't have your abilities back by six months after your stroke, then you won't get them back!" Believe me, this is not true. I noticed significant improvement in my brain's ability to learn and function for eight full years post-stroke, at which point I decided my mind and body were totally recovered. Scientists are well aware that the brain has tremendous ability to change its connections based upon its incoming stimulation. (1) This special characteristic of the brain is the basis for its ability to recover lost functions.

I think of the brain as a playground filled with lots of little children. All of these children are eager to please you and make you happy. (What? You think I'm confusing children with puppies?) You look at the playground and note a group of kids playing kickball, another group acting like monkeys on the jungle gym, and another group hanging out by the sand box. Each of these groups of children is doing different yet similar things, very much like the different sets of cells in the brain. If you remove the jungle gym, then those kids will either go away or they will join other kids and start doing whatever else is available to be done. (2) The same is true for brain cells. If you wipe out a brain cell's genetically programmed function, then those cells will either the from lack of stimulation or they will find something new to do. For example, in the case of vision, if you put a patch over one eye, blocking visual stimulation coming into the cells of the visual cortex, then those cells will reach out to the adjacent cells to see if they can contribute toward a new function. I needed the people around me to believe in me, and my brain's ability to grow, learn, and recover.

When it comes to the physical healing of cells, I cannot stress enough the value of getting plenty of sleep. I truly believe that the brain is the ultimate authority on what it needs to heal itself. My brain needed sleep to be protected.

Over the course of several years, if I didn't respect my brain's need for sleep, my sensory systems experienced agonizing pain and I became psychologically and physically exhausted. For my recovery, it was critical that I honor the healing power of sleep. I remain a very loud advocate for the benefits of sleep, sleep, sleep, and more sleep mixed with periods of learning and cognitive challenge.

From the beginning, it was vitally important that my caregivers permit me the freedom to let go of my past accomplishments so I could identify new areas of interest. I needed people to love me — not for the person I had been, but for who I might now become. When my old familiar left hemisphere released its control over my more artistic and musically creative right hemisphere, everything shifted, and I needed my family, friends, and colleagues to support my efforts at re-inventing myself. At the essence of my soul, I was the same spirit they loved. But because of the trauma, my brain circuitry was different now, and with that came a shifted perception of the world. Although I looked the same and would eventually walk and talk the same as I did before the stroke, my brain wiring was different now, as were many of my interests, likes, and dislikes.

I desperately needed people to accept me no (3) the person I was at that moinent, and permit me the freedom to evolve as a ( @ ) hemisphere dominant personality. I needed those around me to be encouraging. I needed to know that I still had value. I needed to have dreams to work toward. (727 words)

【白百合女子・2月2日】

Its wonderful to be back in my girlhood hometown again to visit my now elderly mother. It seems like centuries ago when I was growing up here. Back then, this small town was just the place that formed the ordinary environment in which I lived my everyday life. Mom's doing great for her age, but she's moving slower these days. After a lengthy but heartwarming talk in the living room about my husband, the kids and how well work is going back in the big city far from here, we have reached the point of being all talked out for now.

What a perfect time to go for a walk and get some fresh air. The outside loudly calls for a look around the neighborhood to see how things have changed, and how things have stayed the same. As I walk down the street, its like I'm on my trusted bicycle riding around as a young girl. I'm on yet another grand mission on my bike again. Oh, the places my bike could take me, and did.

There's the small corner store, just a quick bike ride down one street and up another, where I can get an ice-cold soda in a glass bottle with the red metal cap. Inside is the long candy aisle where I must carefully consider my choices: will it be a candy bar, or pack of football cards with the extra candy included—the bubble gum, or a handful of the exciting 'fireball jawbreakers' ? The freedom to decide continues as strong as ever.

There's the bridge over the lazy river where I love to park my bike, and just sit on the high wall to think deeply, as I look down the river into the wide horizon. How far does this river go, and what is beyond the river, and even beyond that? Maybe someday I can travel to experience it on my own when I get older. Many are the places Tve since traveled, and I've become even more curious, as my awareness of the unknown has grown.

If s only a quick ride to reach the old retired doctor's house, whose grass I used to cut weekly. He paid me a modest wage to help keep his large yard in good condition. We always enjoyed talking as we worked together. I don't remember exactly all that we talked about, but I do remember that he always listened and I felt appreciated. He sure did know a lot about what life has in store that is common to everyone. His example of thoughtful kindness and wisdom showed me how to pass on the same to others younger than myself, many times over the years.

Up ahead is his house, just three houses down from that corner. I sure did have a crush on him. He is so amazing with wavy, light brown hair. I need to ride past his house yet again to see if I might find him outside where I could maybe, just maybe, have the chance to talk with him after schooL I'm not sure what to say given the chance, but its worth the risk. Too bad he never really noticed me at school, even though we shared the same classes; I wonder where he is now. Years later in college, it was just as awkward when I first met my future husband and struggled to start a conversation, but those moments surprisingly became the initial feelings that turned into the real communication of our now 25-year marriage.

Where is that special tree? I know its somewhere around here between these two houses, or is it the next house? I guess the tree is now long gone. Having packed a peanut butter and jelly sandwich lunch in my bicycle basket, I'm set to spend almost the entire day climbing around in it, where I can think and dream freely. It is here that I have found a glorious place where I feel safe; each large branch is its own beautiful room, altogether my own large estate. How rich I am to have found such an interesting place that I can call my own! I love to climb to the very top where the highest branch is so narrow. I must hold on tight as I move from side to side with it in the wind—because the higher I go, the more I can see. I can even see past the supermarket, with a quick view of the ocean a mile beyond that. I'm glad my mother never knew how high I dared to climb. Ever since then, I have always found it well worth paying the price to reach the viewing point from which to see life most clearly.

My bicycle let me experience so much adventure along the safe sidewalks and sleepy streets of my town. It offered great freedom to explore. There were so many places to ride my bike, including special places that only I knew about. It seemed there were endless opportunities for discovery, interesting experiences, and even the excitement of imagined danger.

My life then had space wide enough to ride but safe enough with all its clear boundaries, where I aimed to set my course towards creating an interesting life to enjoy. This was a place that couldn't have been more adventurous.

It's been many years since those days of girlhood exploration, and I' m sure my old bike fell to pieces. But even though everything is different now, nothing has changed. Life remains an adventure that never stops calling me to explore. Although I am quite a grown woman now, I still shape the places I call my own so that I may live freely. I still must plan to set a direction and be careful to find a wise path.

This wonderful little town provided a significant time of preparation for my life. It was the place where I learned, without realizing I was learning, the most important things before I ever lived them. (1008 words)

Bilingual speakers get all the advantages. They have better job mprosnects, higher brain-power, and even protection against dementia*. Now new research shows that they can also view the world in different ways depending on the language that they are operating in. In the past 15 years there has been a large amount of research on the bilingual mind. Most evidence points to the real advantages of using more than one language. Going back and forth between languages appears to be a kind of brain training, that pushes your brain to be flexible.

Just as regular exercise gives your body biological benefits, mentally controlling two or more languages gives your brain cognitive' benefits. This mental flexibility pays big dividends especially later in life: the typical signs of cognitive ageing occur later in bilingual people; and the onset of disorders such as dementia or Alzheimer's is delayed in bilingual people by up to five years.

In research recently published, linguists studied German-English bilinguals and monolinguals to find out how different language patterns affected how they reacted in experiments.

Video clips were shown to German-English bilinguals. These clips depicted either a woman walking towards a car or a man cycling towards the supermarket; then they were asked to describe the scenes. Monolingual German speakers tended to describe not only the action but the goal. So they would tend to say, "A woman walks towards her car," or "A man cycles towards the supermarket" English monolingual speakers would simply describe those scenes as "A woman is walking," or "a man is cycling," without mentioning the goal.

The worldview assumed by German speakers is a holistic' one that takes into account the goal of the action, whereas English speakers tend to zoom in on the event and focus only on the action.

The linguistic basis of this tendency appears to be rooted in the way different grammatical toolkits situate actions in time. English requires its speakers to grammatically mark events that are ongoing, by applying "-ing": 1 am playing the piano so I cannot come to the phone," or "I was playing the piano when the phone rang." German doesn't have this feature.

The researchers also found that these differences extend beyond language usage itself, to affect how nonverbal events are categorized. They asked English and German monolinguals to watch a series of video clips that showed people walking, cycling, running or driving. In each set of three videos, they asked subjects to decide whether a scene with an unclear goal (a woman walks down a road towards a parked car) was more similar to a clearly goal-oriented scene (a woman walks into a building) or a scene with no goal (a woman walks down a country lane).

German monolinguals matched ambiguous scenes with goal-oriented scenes more frequently than English monolinguals did. This difference mirrors the difference found for language usage: German speakers are more likely to focus on possible outcomes of people's actions, but English sneakers nay more attention to the action itself.

When it came to bilingual speakers, they seemed to switch between these (perspectives based on the language context they were given the task in. The research found that Germans fluent in English were just as goal-focused as any other native speaker when tested in German in their home country. But a similar group of German-English bilinguals tested in English in the United Kingdom were just as action-focused as native English speakers. In essence, language changed the perception of the action itself.

In another group of German-English bilinguals, one language was kept in the forefront of their minds during the video-matching task by making participants repeat strings of numbers out loud in either English or German. Blocking one language seemed to automatically bring the influence of the other language to the fore.

When English was blocked, the bilinguals acted like typical Germans and saw ambiguous videos as more goal-oriented. With German blocked, bilingual subjects acted like English speakers and matched ambiguous and open-ended scenes.

These findings are in line with other research that shows distinct behavior in bilinguals depending on the language of operation. People report that they feel like a different person when using their different languages and that expressing certain emotions carries different emotional weight depending on the language they are using. The language you speak, in reality, can affect the way you think. (733 words)

There was still another half an hour for the plane to arrive. I had reported well in time and a number of friends and relatives had come to see me oft I was alone with myself. (7)It was difficult to listen to the advice being given to me and difficult indeed to keep on replying to the warm, friendly words. Inside me there was a hard knot and a feeling of being left out in the cold. I had signed the immigration papers and had decided to go to Canada, leaving behind me the land of my forefathers. Of course there were many of our relatives who had settled in Canada, people who had lived there for two generations or more; yet I hardly knew them. They had made a few trips home in order to see the developments in their country of origin or to meet old relatives.

Looking out at the dark runway with line of lights confining it to its proper place, I thought of my future. Was it going to be like this runway? Would there be limits and barriers and notices indicating to me "Keep off"? I was lost and bewildered. Where was the enthusiasm I had felt when I had set the whole process rolling? What had come over me? I was surprised at my own timidity. Would I be able to make friends, belong to group, and be a person in my own right? Or would I be alienated?

I remembered the vast open areas of our countryside, the village children playing about. I remembered the time when I was one of them, roaming about half-clad, careless of the breeze and the rain. The village school was more of a playhouse for us where we used to get together. Then we shifted. My mother and I moved to the city where my father was working as an assistant manager in a firm. The city was more suited to my growing educational needs. Life was dusty and uncomfortably crowded but very enjoyable and the years at school passed surprisingly fast. Now I stood on the threshold of a career. My parents had used up all their savings in trying to set me up and now it was my turn to help them. Moreover, Canada had seemed so colorful and attractive a few months ago. It seemed to be the beginning of a new life, a window on a new world. So I had decided to go.

But now it all seemed so final. I could just feel my mother touching me and my younger sister clamoring for my attention. I would miss them more than I had bargained for. Would I be able to make a trip home soon? The future was so uncertain.

I would be a stranger there. The process of making friends cannot be hurried; it would take its own time. I felt so lonely, like a child lost in an indifferent world. How I longed for my childhood when I could have clung to my mother and held on to my father's hand. I decided to look forward and not backward.

I decided to be the comforter rather than be comforted. I braced myself, stood straight and tall and cheerfully smiled at my sister. I promised I would write soon and visit them at the earliest I put my arm round my mother and pulled her close to me. I told her, "Be brave, Mama. All will be fine." I thought to myself "What will be will be." I had the pangs of being free of parental care and I realized the importance of responsibility that is allied to freedom. (622 words)

Perhaps the one feature of Japanese culture that has been most widely exported and copied abroad is what people all over the world have come to call "Japanese" gardens.

The experts classify Japanese gardens, or Nihon lei en, into three distinct categories. The oldest and most common is the landscape garden. This art was first introduced to the country in 612, when a Korean gardener was invited to Japan to landscape a park at the Imperial Palace in Kyoto. Landscape gardens attempt to imitate the five elements of nature: the mountain, the river, the sea, the forest and the field.

Through a skillful blending of artificial hills, small and large rocks, "rivers" made of pebbles, real or imaginary "ponds," and a wide variety of trees and plants, the landscape garden attempts to create both the visual and spiritual impression of the whole of nature. Unlike the well-ordered and symmetrical look of many European-style formal gardens, Japanese landscape gardens reflect a belief that nature is not subject to predictable or well-regulated patterns and cannot he controlled.

The second category of Japanese gardens is the stone or rock garden. This uniquely Japanese contribution to the art of landscaping can lead to (7) raised eyebrows or puzzled expressions among Western tourists, and even many Japanese will admit that its appreciation is an acquired taste. Developed during the Muromachi Period under the strong influence of Zen Buddhism, rock gardens consist of little more than a few large rocks standing 0.1in isolation on a bed of carefully placed pebbles. Usually enclosed in walled space with little or no greenery to soften the effect, rock gardens symbolize the endless and unchanging nature of the sea. The simple character of the garden is meant to encourage deep thinking or meditation.

The third category of Japanese gardens bear a closer resemblance to conventional landscaping forms in the West Known as tea-house gardens, these are usually small, enclosed gardens next to tea houses or special rooms in which the Japanese tea ceremony is performed. They are designed to provide the quiet, peaceful atmosphere necessary m to enhance the ritual. Although tea-house gardens do not necessarily include the five elements of nature featured in landscape gardens, they still emphasize a natural harmony among trees, shrubs, rocks and water—most often in the form of a small well or spring.

In all categories of Japanese gardens, however, the essence of appreciation is not only visual but spiritual and psychological. They reflect a theme of Japanese thinking in which form is as important as function and where mood and spirit add to an appreciation of beauty. (434 words)

【龍谷・1月30日】

Alice Waters lies in bed at night thinking about what to feed you. She knows that she can make you happy. She also knows, in her hidden heart, that if she can find the perfect dish to feed each person who comes to her door, she can change the world. Every great cook secretly believes in the power of food. Alice Waters just believes this more than anybody else. She is certain that "we are what we eat," and she has made it her mission in life to make sure that people eat beautifully. Waters is creating a food revolution, even if she has to do it one meal at a time.

Alice did not intend to change the way America eats. She just wanted to feed her friends. Having been to France, she had seen the way a good bistro* could become the heart of a neighborhood, a place where people went for food and comfort. She was not a professional cook, but she enjoyed feeding people, and she imagined a comfortable little café, which would be open 'every day for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. It would be a place where everyone from the dishwashers to the cooks would be well paid, a sort of endless party where everyone would have fun. Reality soon set in. Faced with financial ruin, Chez Panisse, her café, was forced to become a real business. Still, the dream did not die. It just changed.

"I was worried all the time," Alice explains. If she was going to have a restaurant, it was going to be the very best one she could possibly manage. Even if that meant reconsidering the whole concept of what a restaurant might be. She began with the ingredients. Every chef dreams of great produce, but most make do with what is available in the market. Not Alice. Disgusted with the fish that was sold in stores, she bought a truck and sent someone down to the port to find fishermen as they returned in their boats. When she could not find the baby lettuces she had loved in France, she grew her own. She found people to hunt for mushrooms. She persuaded farmers to let their lambs run wild through the hills. She demanded better bread. Before long, she had developed an entire network of people producing food just for her.

The results were electric. Chez Panisse served only one meal a day, but people reserved months ahead of time and0took their chances: You would find them shaking their heads over the menu, complaining, "Chicken? I've come all this way for chicken?" Then the dish would arrive, and they would look down with disappointment and say, "It's just a piece of chicken." But they had waited months for the reservation, so they would take a bite of the chicken and a look of wonder would come over their faces. "It's the best chicken I have ever tasted," they would whisper to each' other. "I never knew that food could taste so good."

And Alice, walking by, would smile her secret little smile, because she had done it once again. She had given them food that they would remember, a taste that would stay long beyond that night. And they would know, ever after, how a chicken raised in the open air, fed on corn, and cooked with care, could taste.

She knew that they would carry that flavor away with them, and that every time they ate a chicken, no matter where it might be, they would remember. And if Alice had her way, they would go looking for that chicken — or that tomato, or that strawberry— until they found it. Because she had given them more than a meal — she had given them a memory.

In this age of multiple restaurants, there is only one Chez Panisse. Alice Waters has no more money on her mind, and now she has turned her attention to the next generation. Her latest project? Feeding the children. She wants every school in America to have a garden and every child to have an opportunity to discover the taste of fresh food. Her fight goes on. Her revolution continues. She knows that all it takes is one taste. (707 words)

This essay has been excerpted from AMERICAN GREATS, by Robert Wilson and Stanley Marcus (The Perseus Books Group, 2000)

The Germanic peoples of ancient Europe provided a basis for the modern peoples of England, Sweden, Norway, Denmark, Iceland, Germany, Austria, Switzerland and many other countries. "German" literally translates into "spear* man," as the spear was the most common weapon in ancient Germanic society and every free man had at least one. The name "German" once only belonged to one single tribe and later became applied to all the peoples of the same background living in northern Europe.

The first phase of migrations* was of the Indo-Europeans. Into-European is the general name given to the people thought to originate from the plains of central Asia. Around 5000-4000 B.C., these people started to move to the warmer places in the south or west. Most scholars think of this as the beginning of the distinction between Indo-European tribes. Tribes who moved to the west became the ancestors of Germans, Greeks and others.

During the third and fourth centuries, there were large movements of Germans to the south and west onto the Rhine-Danube Frontier*. The basic Germanic political structure was the tribe, headed by a chief who was elected for his ability as a war leader. It was this movement that contributed to Rome's loss of control of this frontier. The Roman and Germanic cultures clashed from the beginning. The Germans had many gods, their society was a warrior society, and finally their social structure was a mobile one. By 370 A.D., the tribe had become several nations led by warrior kings.

When the Western Roman Empire came to its end in the fifth century, numerous Germanic tribes began heading in far and diverse directions, taking them to England and the northern edge of Europe and as far south as the Mediterranean* and Africa. Over time, they wandered into other tribal territories and the resulting wars for land grew with the decreasing amount of unoccupied territory. Nomadic* tribes then began building permanent homes as a means of protection. Much of this resulted in settlements from which many, under a powerful leader, expanded out. A defeat often meant joining with the dominant tribe and this continued to be how nations were formed. In England, for example, we now most often refer to the Anglo-Saxons rather than these two separate tribes.

The second phase, between 300 and 675 A.D., was the start of the Germanic migration age and resulted in putting Germanic peoples in control of the societies of the former Western Roman Empire. The third phase, between 780 and 1100 A.D., saw Scandinavian Germans on the move in multiple waves of migration. They settled over large areas -of northern Europe where they remain today: Russia, England, Scotland, Ireland and Iceland. (446 words)

【岡山理科・1月30日】

In nature, animals threatened by enemies display various kinds of adaptive behaviors to escape or actively defend themselves against the enemies. Honeybees commonly use their stingers* to counterattack an intruder. Japanese honeybees, however, fight against the giant hornet,* their most horrible natural enemy, by displaying a characteristic behavior called "hot defensive bee ball formation."* In fall, giant hornets attack Japanese honeybee colonies. If a hornet tries to enter the beehive, a group of more than 500 worker bees quickly swarm around the hornet, trapping it inside the bee ball. In the ball formation, honeybees vibrate their flight muscles to produce heat The temperature in the ball quickly rises to almost 47°C, which is deadly to the hornet. The high temperature phase continues for approximately 20 minutes. Within 30 to 60 minutes after the formation of the bee ball, the hornet is killed by the heat produced.

On the other hand, European honeybees, which are a related species and were introduced to Japan in the Meiji era (about 140 years ago), exhibit only stinging behavior against hornets. The outer skin of the giant hornet, however, is too thick for a bee to sting, and colonies of European honeybees are often completely destroyed. While this discovery may seem to demonstrate that the Japanese honeybee is "smarter" than its European counterpart, this is not the case. There are no giant hornets in Europe. They inhabit Asia, including Japan. So, it's merely an evolutionary consequence of adaptation to the threat of natural enemies.

While this "hot defensive bee ball" behavior has been known for some time, the mechanism behind it has been hidden in a veil of mystery. But researchers at Japan's University of Tokyo, through study of the bees' brains, have detected a previously undiscovered kind of neural* activity that takes place when the bees engage in "hot defensive bee balling." The researchers were astonished by the fact that the collective heat generated by the group, while fatal for the hornet, leaves the bees unaffected. Even more surprisingly, they used perfectly coordinated teamwork during the process. When an outsider enters, the honeybees are immediately on their guard. Then all at once, they gather to attack. So, it's not that one commands all the rest They are acting collectively in an emergency. Curious about why the bees attack this way, the researchers examined their brains and found that neural activity in bees involved with the "hot defensive bee ball" increased. It's a kind of neural activity that isn't seen in European honeybees, taking place in the higher brain center.*

【甲南・２月２日】

大問１

"Adventure tourism" has become a new form of holiday experience. Today, holiday makers in most Western countries have a huge variety of holiday destinations and experiences to choose from. But most travel agents agree that more and more people are looking for alternatives to the traditional beach holiday. Peter Evans, of the British company, Lynton Cooper Travel, explains, "Most of our clients are looking for adventure-based programs. People now seem to have tried the beach destinations and they just don't think sitting on the beach is a unique experience. What we're trying to do is to provide new and exciting experiences." The kinds of experiences that travel agents like Peter Evans are offering range from white-water rafting on Africa's Zambezi River, to climbing some of the world's highest mountains. But, for some people, these activities are not exciting enough. They are turning to what are known as extreme sports, with names like "sky surfing." The chief attraction of these sports comes from the risk they carry of injury or death.

Why is it that more and more people want to experience adventure and a sense of danger? Part of the reason is that the opportunity to do so has increased dramatically in recent years. Travel firms will now take people almost anywhere in the world, from Mount Everest to the Antarctic.

But risky thou. h such activities may be, the allow people to ex and their horizons, according to Jerome Smail, editor of a new British magazine dedicated to extreme sports. "The reason why more people want to do it is because it's a short cut to life experience," he says. "They can pay money and then experience the kind of excitement that ordinary people ( 3 ) normally experience. I think it's also because it's a way of escaping the routine nine-to-five lifestyle that a lot of people lead."

Brendan Koerner, a Washington-based journalist, agrees, arguing that the popularity of extreme sports in America is seen as a reaction against the overly protected, comfortable life that many people live there. "We live in the society with the largest number of legal disputes in the history of mankind, when they're taking jungle-gyms and swings out of children's playgrounds for fear of being sued. And there are all sorts of little rules in American life right now, that are intended to make it as safe as possible." He thinks this emphasis on safety goes ( 4 ) the American sense of adventure, which began with the early pioneers and has been kept alive in films. "Look at our Hollywood

movies, we've got all sorts of action stars, and people look around the boring environment of the suburbs and say 'where is my thrill and danger?'"

And psychologists agree. They believe that people need an element of risk in their lives. Barry Gunter, Professor of Psychology at Britain's Sheffield University, explains. "Fundamentally, there is a basic human need for new experiences — to take risks every once in a while — because that's all part of feeling more capable about how we deal with our environment." This desire to seek out challenges may sound like a typically male attempt to prove one's courage and nerve. But though young men are the chief promoters of extreme sports, they attract women, too.

And it's not only travel agents who have been taking advantage of the new thirst for extreme sports. The soft drink manufacturer, Pepsi, took the concept into a recent advertising campaign aimed at young people. Pepsi's UK marketing manager, Simon Lowden, believes the extreme sports featured in the advertisement greatly appeal to young people. "This is what the name of our new drink, Pepsi Max, suggests: living life to the maximum, living for now. And this is also what extreme sports are all about. Whether people do them or not, at least they can look up to them and say, 'yes, I'd like to do that.' And what excitement — genuine excitement — you get from it."

With the internet everyone talks about networking as the new key skill which everyone needs to learn. In fact, networking is as old as politics. The basic skills of networking are all about creating relationships that allow people to take care of each other. These relationships require mutual respect and kindness to work well. But why is networking valuable?

Business shows that people with large networks of colleagues are more successful at work and in their community than people who do not put effort into networking. These people approach networking in a social rather than self-promoting way. They are interested in others and focus as much on how they can help people they know as how those people can help them. In fact, the best networkers think mainly about their contribution to others. They are driven by a way of thinking that truly asks, "What can I do for you?" and "How can I be of help?" Here networking is not about selfish gain. It is about a generous exchange of knowledge, skills, talent, know-how and, sometimes, such basic traditional things as time and effort.

So what do you need to do to become the center of a network? Before you make an effective start, you have to learn many things about networking. But do not expect instant results. Networking is a slow, gradual process: It takes time and patience.

No matter how, where or when you network, it is always a good idea to thank everyone who helps you. People always appreciate a short thank-you note. Follow up an email with a hand-written card. The email may prompt your contact to make another quick connection on your behalf by immediately emailing on to someone else. However, the card will say — in a way that no email ever can — that you care enough to take the time and effort to thank that special someone in a way that is purely personal to them.

A new study from researchers at Japan's Azabu University may contain the key to understanding the powerful bond between humans and dogs and it has to do with the most basic kind of connection. According to the researchers, when humans and dogs look into each other's eyes, each of them experiences a release of oxytocin, the hormone associated with trust and love that is largely responsible for mothers bonding with their babies.

To test their theory, the researchers observed 30 dog owners playing with their dogs and then measured how much oxytocin the dogs and their owners produced. Urine tests before and after the session revealed that oxytocin levels increased in people whose dogs stared at them the most. But their dogs experienced a similar effect, with their own oxytocin levels rising too. When the scientists repeated the experiment with wolves instead of dogs, the effect was nowhere to be seen.

They went on to perform another experiment. This time, the researchers sprayed oxytocin up some of the dogs' noses before watching them in a room with their owners. Dogs that had received the hormone stared at their owners longer, though the effect was only clearly apparent in females. (Why the effect was so strong in females, but not in males, will become the focus of future research). And once again, tests on the owners found that the longer their dogs looked at them, the higher their oxytocin levels rose.

Another study published in a scientific journal last year found that taking care of a pet can be very similar to parenting your own baby. When women looked at pictures of their children and their dogs, the3regions of the brain that were active were the same ( ones used in processing emotions and keeping track of relationships with others.

In an article ( 4 ) the first study, Evan MacLean and Brian Hare of Duke University wrote that the results could have a larger significance. "In addition to providing clues about how dogs became a part of human history, the results may also tell us exactly how our relationships with dogs may be good for our health," they wrote. "An important future challenge will be to examine the extent to which these findings are true for people in general."

【早稲田・政経】

Ⅰ Would You Kill the Fat Man? is the title of a recent book about a set of moral problems that philosophers like to ponder, and psychologists to put to their experimental subjects. In the standard form, you are on a bridge overlooking a railway track. You see a trolley speeding along the track and, ahead of it, five people tied to the rails. Can these five be saved? There is a very fat man leaning over the railing watching the trolley. If you were to push him off the bridge, he would tumble down and smash onto the track below. He is so obese that his bulk would bring the trolley to a shuddering halt. Sadly, the process would kill the fat man. But it would save the other five. (You cannot stop the trolley by jumping yourself; only the fat man is heavy enough.) Would you kill the fat man? Most people are shocked by the idea of pushing the man to his death. But alter the scenario a bit, and reactions change. People are more likely to pull a lever that would switch the trolley onto another track, where it will kill only one person. The utilitarian calculation is identical-but the physical and emotional distance from the killing makes pulling the lever much more popular than throwing the man.

There are other ways to influence people’s judgments, too. A rather counterintuitive one was reported in a paper published last month in PLOS ONE, a journal. In it, Albert Costa, of the Universitat Pompeu Fabra in Spain, and his colleagues found that the language in which the dilemma is posed can alter how people answer. To be specific, when people are asked the fat-man question in a foreign language, they are more likely to kill him for the others’ sake.

Costa and his colleagues interviewed 317 people, all of whom spoke two languages-mostly English plus one of Spanish, Korean, or French. Half of each group were randomly assigned the dilemma in their native tongue. The other half answered the problem in their second language. When asked in their native language, only 20 percent of subjects said they would push the fat man. When asked in the foreign language, the proportion jumped to 33 percent. Morally speaking, this is a troubling result. The language in which a dilemma is posed should make no difference to how it is answered. Linguists have wondered whether different languages encode different assumptions about morality, which might explain the result. But the effect existed for every combination of languages that the researchers looked at, so culture does not seem to explain things. Other studies in "trolleyology" have found that East Asians are less likely to make the coldly utilitarian calculation, and indeed none of the Korean subjects said they would push the fat man when asked in Korean. But 7.5 percent were prepared to when asked in English.

The explanation seems to lie in the difference between being merely competent in a foreign language and being fluent. The subjects in the experiment were not native bilinguals, but had, on average, begun the study of their foreign language at age 14. (The average age of the subjects was 21.) The participants typically rated their ability with their acquired tongue at close to three on a five-point scale. Their language skills were, in other words, pretty good-but not great.

Several psychologists, including Daniel Kahneman, who was awarded the Nobel Prize in economics in 2002 for his work on how people make decisions, think that the mind uses two separate cognitive systems-one for quick, intuitive decisions and another that makes slower, more reasoned choices. These can conflict, which is what the trolley dilemma is designed to provoke: normal people have a strong moral dislike of killing (the intuitive system), but can nonetheless recognize that one death is, mathematically speaking, better than five (the reasoning system).

This latest study fits with other research which suggests that speaking a foreign language boosts the second system-provided, that is, you don’t speak it as well as a native. Earlier work, by some of the same scholars who performed this new study, found that people tend to fare better on tests of pure logic in a foreign language -- and particularly on questions with an obvious-but-wrong answer and a correct answer that takes time to work out.

Costa and his colleagues hypothesize that, while fluent speakers can form sentences effortlessly, the merely competent must spend more brainpower, and reason much more carefully, when operating in their less-familiar tongue. And that kind of thinking helps to provide psychological and emotional distance, in much the same way as replacing the fat man with a lever. As further support for that idea, the researchers note that the effect of speaking the foreign language became smaller as the speaker's familiarity with it increased.

Regardless of the exact mental mechanism behind the team's findings, they could have big

implications. Boaz Keysar, a psychologist at the University of Chicago and one of the study's authors, talks of investigating the impact on medical or legal decision-making. Meanwhile, globalization is boosting the number of bilinguals. There are more nonnative English speakers (500 million, by one estimate) than native ones (perhaps 340 million). Big firms are making English their internal language, even if it is not the native tongue of most of their workers. Meetings of international organizations like the United Nations and the European Union are often conducted in languages that are not the preferred ones of most of those attending. Perhaps it is reassuring to think they may be more coolly rational than meetings of monolingual speakers-unless, that is, you are the metaphorical fat man about to be pushed under a train. (868 words)

Adapted from "Gained in Translation," The Economist (May 17, 2014), and David Edmunds, Would You Kill the Fat Man?

1 June 2009: Air France flight 447 is cruising from Rio de Janeiro to Paris when it hits a tropical storm in the mid-Atlantic. Minutes later, the Airbus A330 flies into the ocean, killing all 228 people on board. On a sunny July morning four years later, a flight approaching San Francisco airport smashes into the sea wall just ahead of the runway, causing the entire tail section to break off and sending the fractured fuselage cartwheeling across the airstrip. Three people died and dozens were injured. These different incidents appear unrelated, yet they share a tragic similarity: the pilot of each plane believed his flight control systems would automatically prevent the aircraft from stalling or flying too slowly to stay airborne. They were wrong.

It turns out that this type of mix-up is a major contributor to a number of air crashes. And the situation is set to get worse. With more things becoming automated, pilots can get confused when something goes seriously wrong, losing track of where the autopilot's responsibility ends and theirs begins. It is a recipe for disaster. So is it time to lose the human pilot altogether? Certainly many in the industry think so. Far better, they argue, for airliners to fly on autopilot, under the remote supervision of human pilots in an office thousands of kilometers away. Safety-wise it seems to make sense-flight-crew error has been suspected in about half of all fatal airline accidents.

Along with improved safety, pilotless passenger planes could offer dramatic cost savings for airlines and passengers alike. Without pilots, airlines would spend far less on salaries, simulator training, healthcare, layover hotels, and retirement benefits, says Mary Cummings, a researcher at Duke University, in Durham, North Carolina. That should translate into lower fares, and automated flight should also be more fuel efficient, helping to further reduce costs and cut greenhouse gas emissions. And with the pointy end of the aircraft no longer taken up by crew, spectacular, panoramic views would be on offer to passengers in the front seats--provided they pay a little extra, of course. There's just one key question: how would you feel boarding a plane without a human hand at the controls?

This revolution arises out of a simple fact: computers now do so much on planes that airline pilots rarely have cause to take the controls during any of the three major stages of the flight. Autofight computers can take over when the plane is just 30 meters off the ground. They then maintain whatever speed, heading, and height the crew program into the flight-management system. And the computer has long been able to pick up a runway radio signal and land the aircraft automatically.

Yet automation introduces fresh challenges for pilots. When autoflight computers experience situations they haven't been programmed to handle-sudden structural damage to the aircraft, say, or extreme weather like that experienced by flight 447-they can unexpectedly throw responsibility back to the pilots. Those pilots may become confused over the level of control they have been handed when something goes seriously wrong. Equally dangerous is the fact that flight-deck computers can overload pilots with a stream of alerts, checklists, and audible alarms at critical moments. In November 2010, for instance, an engine exploded on Qantas flight 32 with 469 people on board, cutting 650 control wires. Yet as pilot Richard de Crespigny tried to land at Singapore, he and his co-pilot were disturbed by 120 menus of instructions flashing on their screens.

Cummings believes that the era of fully automated planes is inevitable. In her former job as a U.S. Navy pilot, she realized her fighter jet's autoflight system made her practically unnecessary. It could land the craft on the deck of an aircraft carrier far better than a human, she says. "It adjusted direction, airspeed, and altitude much faster than I could." Computers have the edge in split-second operations because eye-to-brain communication is slower than sensor-to-processor transmission. "From the time you see a stimulus that requires action to the time you act on it is at best half a second," she says. A computer, meanwhile, takes just milliseconds to detect sensor signals and act on them. "Humans cannot keep up."

The experience of the U.S. military with remotely controlled aircraft confirms this-their crash rate dropped markedly the more automated they became. In particular, improvements were achieved by preventing pilots flying during takeoffs and landings, when crashes frequently happened. "Takeoffs and landings are close to the highest workloads pilots experience," says Cummings-almost half of all fatal airline incidents occur during these stages of flight.

So how far away are pilotless passenger planes? Well, one already exists, in a way. An unpiloted Jetstream airliner operated by BAE Systems, in the U.K., has been flying 800-kilometer trips to see how it interacts with other aircraft and air traffic controllers - although it still has a crew on board, just in case.

Despite these advances, it is unlikely that passenger airlines will be the first to introduce pilotless planes. Cummings expects cargo carriers such as FedEx and UPS to be the first plane operators to drop from two pilots to just one. This will allow the new technology to be tested in the same aircraft as those used by airlines, but with no passengers aboard. If that proves safe, we can expect to see cargo airlines abandoning the crew completely by around 2035, she suggests. Instead, a pilot based at a company's hub would watch over a fleet of cargo planes via satellite, ready to assume control if anything goes wrong.

But pilots are unlikely to let themselves be replaced by technology without a fight. "We will only be able to build reliable pilotless aircraft when we can reproduce human consciousness, awareness, and prediction in a machine," says de Crespigny. "Until then it is pilots who have the only chance of saving people." Richard Toomer, spokesman for the British Airline Pilots Association agrees: "Passengers want to know they are in the hands of two well-trained, well-rested pilots. We can't see that changing anytime soon." (923 words)

Adapted from http: / I www.newscientist.com I article 1 mg223298Y0.400-whos-flying-this-thing-end-in-sight- for-pilots. html?full=true#. VBaL75RKjZE

While confined here in the Birmingham City jail, I came across your recent statement calling my present activities "unwise and untimely." Seldom do I pause to answer criticism of my work and ideas. If I sought to answer all the criticisms that cross my desk, my secretaries would have little time for anything other than such correspondence in the course of the day, and I would have no time for constructive work. But since I feel that you are men of genuine good will and that your criticisms are sincerely set forth, I want to try to answer your statement in what I hope will be patient and reasonable terms.

I think I should indicate why I am here in Birmingham, since you have been influenced by the view which argues against "outsiders coming in." I have the honor of serving as president of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference, an organization operating in every Southern state, with headquarters in Atlanta, Georgia. We have some eighty-five affiliated organizations across the South, and one of them is the Alabama Christian Movement for Human Rights. Frequently we share staff, educational and financial resources with our affiliates. Several months ago the affiliate here in Birmingham asked us to be on call to engage in a nonviolent direct action program if such were deemed necessary. We readily consented, and when the hour came we lived up to our promise. So I, along with several members of my staff, am here because I was invited here. I am here because I have organizational ties here.

But more basically, I am in Birmingham because injustice is here. Just as the prophets of the eighth century B.C. left their villages and carried their "thus saith the Lord" far beyond the boundaries of their home towns, and just as the Apostle Paul left his village of Tarsus and carried the gospel of Jesus Christ to the far corners of the Greco-Roman world, so am I compelled to carry the gospel of freedom far beyond my own home town....

You deplore the demonstrations taking place in Birmingham. But your statement, I am sorry to say, fails to express a similar concern for the conditions that brought about the demonstrations. I am sure that none of you would want to rest content with the superficial kind of social analysis that deals merely with effects and does not grapple with underlying causes. It is unfortunate that demonstrations are taking place in Birmingham, but it is even more unfortunate that the city's white power structure left the Negro community with no alternative.

In any nonviolent campaign there are four basic steps: collection of the facts to determine whether injustices exist; negotiation; self-purification; and direct action. We have gone through all these steps in Birmingham. There can be no gainsaying the fact that racial injustice engulfs this community. Birmingham is probably the most thoroughly segregated city in the United States. Its ugly record of brutality is widely known. Negroes have experienced grossly unjust treatment in the courts. There have been more unsolved bombings of Negro homes and churches in Birmingham than in any other city in the nation. These are the hard, brutal facts of the case. 4n the basis of these conditions, Negro leaders sought to negotiate with the city fathers. But the latter consistently refused to engage in good faith negotiation

Then, last September, came the opportunity to talk with leaders of Birmingham’s economic community. In the course of the negotiations, certain promises were made by the merchants --- for example, to remove the stores’ humiliating racial signs. On the basis of these promises the Reverend Fred Shuttlesworth and the leaders of the Alabama Christian Movement for Human Rights agreed to a moratorium on all demonstrations. As the weeks and months went by, we realized that we were the victims of a broken promise. A few signs, briefly removed, returned; the others remained.

As in so many past experiences, our hopes had been blasted, and the shadow of deep disappointment settled upon us. We had no alternative except to prepare for direct action, whereby we would present our very bodies as a means of laying our case before the conscience of the local and the national community. Mindful of the difficulties involved, we decided to undertake a process of self-purification. We began a series of workshops on nonviolence, and we repeatedly asked ourselves: "Are you able to accept blows without retaliating?" "Are you able to endure the ordeal of jail?" We decided to schedule our direct action program for the Faster season, realizing that except for Christmas, this is the main shopping period of the year. Knowing that a strong economic-withdrawal program would be the by-product of direct action, we felt that this would be the best time to bring pressure to bear on city merchants for the needed change....

You may well ask: "Why direct action? Why sit-ins, marches and so forth? Isn't negotiation a better path?" You are quite right in calling for negotiation. Indeed, this is the very purpose of direct action. Nonviolent direct action seeks to create such a crisis and foster such a tension that a community which has constantly refused to negotiate is forced to confront the issue. It seeks to so dramatize the issue that it can no longer be ignored. My citing the creation of tension as part of the work of the nonviolent resister may sound rather shocking. But I must confess that I am not afraid of the word "tension." I have earnestly opposed violent tension, but there is a type of constructive, nonviolent tension which is necessary for growth. Just as Socrates felt that it was necessary to create a tension in the mind so that individuals could rise from the bondage of myths and half-truths to the unfettered realm of creative analysis and objective appraisal, so must we see the need for nonviolent gadflies to create the kind of tension in society that will help men rise from the dark depths of prejudice and racism to the majestic heights of understanding and brotherhood.

The purpose of our direct action program is to create a situation so crisis-packed that it will inevitably open the door to negotiation. I therefore concur with you in your call for negotiation. Too long has our beloved Southland been bogged down in a tragic effort to live in monologue rather than dialogue.

One of the basic points in your statement is that the action that I and my associates have taken in Birmingham is untimely. Some have asked: `Why didn't you give the new city administration time to act?" The only answer that I can give to this query is that the new Birmingham administration must be prodded about as much as the outgoing one, before it will act. We are sadly mistaken if we feel that the election of Albert Boutwell as mayor will bring the millennium to Birmingham. While Mr. Boutwell is a much more gentle person than Mr. Connor, they are both segregationists, dedicated to maintenance of the status quo. I have hope that Mr. Boutwell will be reasonable enough to see the futility of massive resistance to desegregation. But he will not see this without pressure from devotees of civil rights. My friends, I must say to you that we have not made a single gain in civil rights without determined legal and nonviolent pressure. Lamentably, it is an historical fact that privileged groups seldom give up their privileges voluntarily. Individuals may see the moral light and voluntarily give up their unjust posture; but, as Reinhold Niebuhr has reminded us, groups tend to be more immoral than individuals.... (1197 words)

Adapted from http: l I mlh-kppOY.stanford.edu / index.php /encyclopedia ldocumentsentry l annotated letterfrom birrninghain

【慶応・薬】

[ I ] (Based on Michael de Podesta. 2013. Absolute Zero in `nothing', edited by Jeremy Webb.)

Absolute zero is an ideal and unattainably perfect state of coldness - the ultimate in cool. Since the concept first emerged in the mid-19th century, people have been driven to get ever closer to it. Along the way they have uncovered states of unparalleled beauty and order, developed engineering marvels and enhanced scientific insight, not least about notions of temperature and matter itself.

The idea of temperature is something we become familiar with at an early age. It is a parental rite to ensure a baby's room is stiflingly warm, its bathwater is `just right', and that it learns that some things are `Hot! Don't touch'. Later on we associate numbers with different temperature sensations, and learn that 20'C describes a warm day and 37C is a biochemical Mecca.

This familiarity makes it difficult to appreciate what an astonishing concept temperature embodies. Yet if you approach it with the naivete of early natural philosophers such as Galileo, Newton and Robert Boyle, you will no longer laugh at early notions of heat. Some thought it a kind of fluid, called caloric, and we still speak of heat `flowing'. Others thought that cold was caused by the presence of coldness, sometimes envisaged as 'frigorific atoms'. To the untutored eye, are these ideas any more absurd than the notion that light is a wave?

One experiment performed back in 1791 by Swiss physicist Marc-Auguste Pictet illustrates how baffling even simple things must have seemed. Pictet used two parabolic mirrors facing each other 21 metres apart. Each mirror reflects the light that hits it towards a focal point. He placed a thermometer at the focus of one mirror and a hot object at the focus of the other. The thermometer showed a rise in temperature indicating that `calorific rays' of some kind were being transmitted - an impressive experiment. More amazing, when snow was placed at the first focus, the thermometer reading fell several degrees. Witnesses at the time were reluctant to conclude that snow emitted cooling frigorific rays, but given knowledge at the time it would have been hard to conclude anything else!

Early efforts at measuring temperature were purely empirical. There existed a standardised method - within each laboratory at least - for determining `degrees of heat' in a reproducible manner. The most useful thermometers exploited the thermal expansion of liquids constrained in glass bulbs and narrow tubes. The level of the liquid was marked at two 'fixed temperatures'. Then, unknown temperatures were measured as 'degrees of heat' that were etched as a scale between the two fixed points.

The biggest problem for early workers was a 'thermal catch-22'. The scale-marking process assumes that the liquid expands an equal amount for every unit rise in temperature. But this assumption cannot be verified unless one measures the thermal expansion of the liquid, and to do that one requires... a thermometer.

By the early 19th century, no solution to this circularity was in sight. Instead, different workers simply asserted that one thermometer or another was better than the others. Early thermometers used `spirit' - essentially brandy - and this was generally inferior to mercury. However, exhaustive comparisons in the 1840s by French scientist Henri Victor Regnault showed that an 'air thermometer' - which measures changes in pressure of dry air in a sealed container - was superior to both in its reproducibility and inter-comparability.

Different designs of air thermometer calibrated at the freezing and boiling points of water gave consistent estimates of temperatures. In contrast, liquid-in-glass thermometers varied in their performance depending on the properties of glass, and the type of liquid. Slowly the air thermometer, which was difficult to use, began to be viewed as definitive and was used to calibrate other, more practical thermometers.

Crude as early measurements were, they brought some order to the thermal world. Reproducible readings aided everything from cooking to industrial processes. But still no one really knew what it was they were measuring!

As practical confusion lessened, theorists could turn their attention to this problem. And William Thomson, later to become Lord Kelvin, focused on the possibility of constructing a temperature scale that did not depend on the materials from which thermometers were made - an absolute scale of temperature. Kelvin's recipe for an absolute temperature scale was obscure, resting on the operation of an ideal heat engine, first imagined by the French scientist Nicolas Leonard Sadi Carnot. But a more powerful and ultimately successful 'meme' was emerging: the explanation of the physical properties of matter in terms of atoms.

It is hard to imagine a time when even the greatest scientific pioneers did not understand that everyday objects are made of atoms, that heat is the kinetic energy of moving atoms, and that temperature is a measure of the speed with which atoms move ---specifically the square of the average molecular speed. Although ideas of this kind were advanced by the likes of John Herapath in 1820 and John James Waterson in 1845, they were roundly rejected by London's Royal Society. Yet by the time the book Heat: A mode of motion was published by John Tyndall in 1865 the idea was taught as fact.

To put this advance into a modern context, consider recent discussions about the existence of the Higgs particle. This particle is supposed to give rise to the property of matter we call `mass' -- a property so familiar that most people barely think it needs explanation. Similarly the idea that the motion of hypothetical atoms was the source of heat was posited but unconfirmed for many years. The idea that heat needed a microscopic explanation was not obvious, but once established it offered astonishing insight into the role of atoms in everyday life: when we feel the temperature of a substance we are literally sensing the `buzzing' of matter.

And once the idea of molecules jiggling within a substance is accepted, the concept of absolute zero becomes inevitable: it is the temperature at which atoms become completely still.　(997 words)

Ⅱ (Based on Jerome Groopman and Pamela Hartzband. 2011. "Your Medical Mind: How to Decide What is Right for You.")

How do recommendations for "best practice" come about? Committees of specialists are convened to draw up guidelines that aim to identify "best practice" for a certain medical condition. The principle is that guidelines should be drawn from the "best" evidence and crafted by the "best" scientific experts in the field. These guidelines are a key component of so-called evidence-based medicine, the idea that clinical practice should be based solely on the results of scientific studies. The recommendations are presented not only to physicians, but directly to patients, in informational brochures, on the Internet, and in the media. Guidelines therefore have become one of the most powerful forces on patient decisions, since the very language used to describe their content is "best" practice. Advocates of guidelines assert that both doctors and patients should accept their recommendations as the default option. Some physicians and health policy planners conclude that patients who deviate from expert recommendations aren't adequately informed or are "irrational."

Doctors and patients certainly should consult guidelines since they provide considerable background information about disorders and treatment options. But, it's important to recognize that guidelines aren't strictly "scientific." They incorporate biases and subjective judgments. Experts select which clinical studies to use and which to discard when they formulate their recommendations. Further, all studies have limitations. They provide results from statistical averages of selected groups of study subjects. These averages may not be applicable to a particular patient. Even the most rigorous, inclusive studies cannot address all the variables of age, gender, genetics, lifestyle, diet, and concurrent medical conditions that make us individuals and often influence how effective a particular treatment will be or what sorts of side effects we might experience. Many studies exclude the elderly or those who have coexisting common medical problems. When making their final recommendations about the need for treatment, experts also apply their subjective judgment about how much risk is worth taking in order to obtain a certain benefit. Concerns have also been raised by the Institute of Medicine about potential conflicts of interest, since some experts who write guidelines are consultants to drug and device companies or private insurers. Finally, guideline committees have an imperative for consensus and present their recommendations with one voice. As a result, their conclusions usually fail to mention dissenting opinions that may have arisen among committee members.

It's also important for patients to realize that guidelines aren't engraved in stone; they can change quickly. A survey of one hundred recommendations from expert committees found that within a year 14 percent were reversed, within two years 23 percent were changed, and fully half were overturned at five and a half years. The American College of Physicians, representing internists in the United States, stated in 2010 that all of its guidelines, if not rewritten, should be automatically suspended after five years. This isn't only because new and better data become available, but also because the composition of expert committees may change, and with this change, subjective judgments of "utility" or value may shift. Consider the guidelines that recommended the use of estrogen in virtually all postmenopausal women to prevent heart disease and dementia. These guidelines were overturned by new information from the Women's Health Initiative trial. Yet some experts remain critical of this study and still endorse parts of the earlier guidelines, believing that for some women the "value" of hormone replacement may be enough to risk the downsides.

Clearly, more than assessments of scientific evidence, more than extracting numbers from clinical research, goes into guidelines and their recommendations. The conclusions drawn about what is "best" necessarily incorporate the "value" or impact of a treatment on quality of life. For every individual, this impact is always subjective and cannot be distilled from objective data.

We believe that all patients should be fully informed about their condition and then asked about their preferences. Such "informed patient preference" is placed by the Institute of Medicine of the National Academy of Sciences at the pinnacle of "quality care." To be truly informed, patients should be aware of the gray zones in medicine. They must keep in mind that guidelines are not purely scientific and have a significant subjective component.

In 2010, researchers at the University of Michigan published the results of one of the first national surveys of medical decisions. The researchers contacted at random by telephone 3,100 adults age forty and older. Participants were asked a series of questions about common medical conditions they might have discussed with their doctors. A disturbing finding was that only half the patients stated they had been asked their preferences about starting medications for elevated blood pressure or a high cholesterol level. Although guidelines usually have fine print at the bottom asserting that the recommendations need to be molded to the preferences, values, and goals of the individual patient, we believe that this statement should be in large print, because patient preference is often not sought.

There is a creeping paternalism on the part of health care policy makers and insurance companies to standardize care based on guidelines. To be sure, standardization is appropriate, even essential, in some areas of medicine, like safety measures and emergency care. But where patient preferences are involved, standardization is misconceived. Yet, there are powerful incentives, often financial, to reward doctors when their patients receive treatment according to guidelines and penalize them when their patients deviate from the recommendations. Report cards that rate physicians according to compliance with guidelines are issued by insurers and often made public. We readily see how a physician might feel caught by these incentives and press patients to make choices that may not reflect either physician or patient preferences. As a patient, you want to know that your doctor is on your side, helping you to figure out an individual choice.

What if you and your physician don't agree about what is the "best" choice? In such settings, as Dr. Jacques Carter put it, physicians "negotiate" with their patient. But the ultimate choice is always the patient's, because it is the patient who either enjoys the benefit of a treatment or suffers its side effects, experiencing each within the context of his or her values and goals in life. (1031 words)

[Ⅲ] (Based on Steven Pinker. 2007. "The Stuff of Thought.- Language as a Window into Human Nature. ")

The games people play as they use language are anything but frivolous[1]. They come from the fact that conversation is a quintessentially[2] social activity. People do things with words---they offer, they command, they threaten, they proposition[3]---and the things they do necessarily affect the relationships they have. We choose our words carefully because they have to accomplish two tasks at once: convey our intentions, and maintain or renegotiate our ties with our fellows.

Is the avoidance of plain speaking a bug in our mind design, or might it have a deeper rationale---a rationale that would predict that any social communicator would engage in indirect speech? At first glance, a rationale might seem unlikely. The whole reason to have a language is to convey information, and since knowledge is power, it stands to reason that the more information it conveys, the better. One might naively think that it's always better to know something than not to know it for the same reason that it's better to be rich than to be poor: if you're rich, you can always give your money away and be poor. And if you know something, you can always decide to ignore it.

Of course, it is a cliché of our times that we suffer from information overload because of the ubiquity[4] of electronic media. And for fifty years, cognitive scientists have been harping[5] on the limitations of the brain in processing information. Some have argued that maximizing the rate of transmission of usable knowledge is a way to manage the flow of information in a conversation.

But the ultimate reason our speech is so indirect may lie in a different danger of information---not that we might be overwhelmed by how much there is, but that we might be poisoned by what it says. The paradox of rational ignorance is that even if we could accommodate as much information as we wanted, and could always separate the wheat from the chaff[6], there are certain messages a rational mind may not want to receive.

Sometimes we choose not to know things because we can anticipate that they would have an uncontrollable effect on our emotions. Some psychologists list some examples. People who haven't seen a movie or read a book will shun[7] a review that gives away the ending. A basketball fan who videotapes a game will sequester [8]himself from media outlets so as not to learn the outcome before he watches it. Many expectant parents choose not to learn the sex of their unborn child, and in countries ravaged[9] by the selective abortion of girls, divulging [10]the information can be a crime. And most of us would rather not know the day on which we will die.

Another reason a rational system might choose to be ignorant is that if it is designed to come to an unbiased decision, the slightest bit of extraneous[11] information can tip it one way or another. So juries are prevented from knowing the criminal record of the accused, or information that the police obtained by illegal means. Scientists test drugs in double-blind studies, where they keep themselves from knowing who got the drug and who got the placebo. And government contracts are awarded through sealed bids.

But the kind of rational ignorance that can best explain why we veil[12] our speech comes from a type of dilemma in which our own rationality can be turned against us and a unilateral disarmament of knowledge is the only countermeasure. People are better off if they can't receive a threat. Hence misbehaving children avoid their parents' glances, state's witnesses may be held incommunicado[13], and I know a colleague who kept a nice jacket and perhaps his life because he couldn't understand some muggers who were threatening him in a heavy accent. Being in possession of a secret makes one vulnerable to extortion[14] by those who want to know it and to silencing by those who don't want it known. Hence kidnap victims are better off if they don't see the kidnapper's face, envoys are kept ignorant of sensitive information for their own safety, and we have the spy-movie cliché, "I could tell you, but then I would have to kill you." A person with the least information can be in the better position: if two friends are negotiating over where to have dinner, the one who suggests a restaurant convenient to her just before her cell phone goes dead will have the shorter walk.

Merely being asked certain questions can put a person at a disadvantage, since one answer might be damaging, the other would be a lie, and a refusal to answer would be a de facto confession that those are the respondent's two options. Witnesses who exercise their Fifth Amendment right against self-incrimination[15] by refusing to answer a question often do incriminate themselves in the court of public opinion. When a prestigious position is open and the headhunting begins, candidates can't admit to wanting it, because if it goes to someone else they would be humbled; nor can they say they don't want it, because that might take them out of the running. They can't even say "No comment," for why would they have to if they had no interest in the position? During the recent search for a Harvard dean, the newspapers found that the plausible candidates mysteriously (and incredibly) could not be reached by their assistants. And of course we have seen many examples in which mutual knowledge can transform negative information into a damaging loss of face. Many authors refuse to read their unfavorable reviews so they can honestly say they have no reply to them. Some authors won't read any of their reviews,

Knowledge, then, can be dangerous because a rational mind may be compelled to use it in rational ways, allowing malevolent[16] or careless speakers to commandeer[17] our faculties against us. This makes the expressive power of language a mixed blessing: it lets us learn what we want to know, but it also lets us learn what we don't want to know. Language is not just a window into human nature but a fistula[18]: an open wound through which our innards[19] are exposed to an infectious world. It's not surprising that we expect people to sheathe[20] their words in politeness and innuendo[21] and other forms of doublespeak.　(1049 words)

[1]取るに足りない　[2]典型的に[3]に計画を提案する[4]遍在[5]繰り返し言う[6]もみがら[7]避ける[8]を隔離する

[9]…を損う[10]暴く[11]外部からの[12]〉…をベールで覆う,[13]閉じこもって外部との接触を断った[14]ゆすり

[15]を負わせる[負わせられる]こと[16]他人の不幸を喜ぶ[17]奪い取る[18]瘻管《中空器官間, または中空器官と皮膚の表面の間にできた裂け目で, 潰瘍(ｶｲﾖｳ)または先天的な奇形による》.

[19]おなか[20]包む[21]暗示

【学習院・法】

When Tim started a new job as a manager, one of his top priorities was communicating to his office team that he valued each member's contribution. So at team meetings, as each member spoke up about whatever project they were working on, Tim made sure he put on his "active-listening face" to signal that he cared about what each person was saying.

But after meeting with him a few times, Tim's team got a very different message from the one he intended to send. After a few weeks of meetings, one team member was finally brave enough to ask him the question that had been on everyone's mind. That question was: "Tim, are you angry with us right now?" When Tim explained that he wasn't at all angry — that he was just putting on his "active-listening face" — his colleague gently explained that his active-listening face looked a lot like his angry face.

According to Heidi Grant Halvorson, a social psychologist at Columbia Business School who has extensively researched how people perceive one another, Tim's story captures one of the primary problems of being a human being: although you might wish to come across in a certain way to others, people often perceive you in an altogether different way.

One person may think, for example, that by offering help to a colleague, others will see her as generous. But her colleague may interpret her offer as a lack of trust in his abilities. Just as he misunderstands her, she misunderstands him: she offered him help because she thought he was overworked and stressed. He has, after all, been showing up early to work and going home late every day. But that's not why he's keeping strange hours: he just works best when the office is less crowded.

These kinds of misunderstandings lead to conflict and resentment not just at work, but at home too. How many fights between couples have started with one person not understanding what another says and does? He stares at his plate at dinner while she's telling a story and she assumes he doesn't care about what she's saying, when really he is admiring the beautiful meal she made. She goes to bed early rather than watching their favorite television show together like they usually do, and he assumes she's not interested in spending time with him, when really she's just exhausted after a tough day at work.

Most of the time, Halvorson says, people don't realize they are not seen by others the way they think they are. "If I ask you," Halvorson told me, "about how you see yourself — what traits* you would say describe you — and I ask someone who knows you well to list your traits, there will not be much correlation* between what you say and what your friend says. There's a big gap between how other people see us and how we see ourselves."

This gap arises, Halvorson explains, from some quirks* of human psychology. First, most people suffer from what psychologists call "the transparency illusion" ---the belief that what they feel, desire, and intend is very clear to others, even though they have done very little to communicate clearly what is going on inside

their minds. Because people presume they are transparent, they might not spend the time or effort to be as clear about their intentions or emotional states as they could be, giving people around them very little information with which to make an accurate judgment.

"It's quite possible," Halvorson writes, "that how you look when you are slightly frustrated isn't all that different from how you look when you are a little concerned, confused, disappointed, or nervous. Your ‘I’m kind of hurt by what you just said' face probably looks a lot like your 'I'm not at all hurt by what you just said' face. And the majority of times that you've said to yourself, 'I made my intentions clear,' or 'He knows what I meant' you didn't, and he doesn't" (677 words)

I want you to travel with me to a famine camp in Sudan on the Ethiopian border. You may have seen the dreadful television reports of the starving babies, their bellies swollen. Flies crawl in and out of their eyes and mouths, trying to suck the last drops of moisture that cling there as long as these babies cling to life. Now you are among them, as a reporter for a daily newspaper, required to write about a place you have never been before, about an event you can't possibly understand, for readers who will never go there and don't know what it has to do with them — beyond giving money to charity.

You've been at the camp for several days. You walk its ground each day, stepping around and over 100,000 people who have come because they heard there was water. By the time they arrived — some of them walking three weeks from their Ethiopian villages — the water was no more than a well of mud in a dry riverbed.

You watch the little girls walk to the river and dig in the mud, soaking their old torn clothes with moisture that they wring*, drop by drop, into their plastic cups. You sit in the clinic where the waiting line is hundreds of people long. Desperate fathers push their babies at you, thinking that because you are a khawaja, a foreigner, you must be a doctor. You must be able to help. But all you have to offer is a notebook and some questions — suddenly too little to capture this reality.

At night you retreat to the other side of the straw wall that encloses this awful world. You collapse — ashamed of your temporary hunger, of your selfish fears — on a bed in a small straw hut. You're grateful that it's dark, that you will not have to look at things for a few hours, but you can still hear. You hear coughing and crying. You hear shouts, angry bursts of life, and the final sounds people make as they die.

Then you hear something else: singing. You hear sweet chants and deep rhythms. Each night, over and over, at about the same time. You think you are dreaming. You wonder if you have gone quite mad from your fear. How could people sing in the face of this horror? And why? You lie in the dark and you wonder until you fall asleep. Daylight comes again, and you open your eyes.

I went to Africa in 1985 to report on the Ethiopian famine for a newspaper. I had never been outside of North America. The singing puzzled me. It took me several days to find out what it was. I had to go through several translators before someone finally told me that it was storytelling. When the villages in Ethiopia and what is now Eritrea* finally got too dry for people to survive there, they got up and walked to the famine camps. Then they settled, in whatever little huts they could find, as a village. They continued whatever customs they could. One of their customs was their nightly storytelling. The elders gathered the children around, and they sang their songs.

It was their version of school. It was how they carried their history and culture and law with them. It may have been my first conscious awareness of the power, history, and universality of storytelling. We all grew up with stories, but do we ever stop to think about how much they connect us and how powerful they are?

Even in the face of death these stories live on, passed from elder to younger, from generation to generation, carried with as much care as those precious cups of water. Events pass, people live and die, life changes. But stories endure.

Stories are our soul. Write and tell yours with your whole selves. Tell them as if they are all that matters. It matters that you do it as if that's all there is.

On this device the battery never runs out and you never have to worry about getting a bad signal. When this device first appeared, crowds lined the streets, eager to get their hands on it. Magazines described the American debut of the ballpoint pen in 1945 as an event of world importance.

At $12.50 a pen — around $160 today — the ballpoint pen wasn't cheap, but that didn't stop thousands from lining up outside Gimbels department store in New York City on October 29 of that year to buy this "fantastic, miracle pen." According to the New Yorker, Gimbels sold a huge number of the pens — nearly $1.3 million today — on that one day alone.

Seventy years later, the ballpoint pen isn't making headlines, but it's still hugely popular. The pens are cheap, long-lasting and extremely portable. They've come a long way from that first day in Gimbels — because the first ballpoint pen, frankly, didn't work very well. It would leak ink and make huge black marks on the paper. Its main selling point was that it came with a two-year guarantee. The company that made the pen replaced 104,643 broken pens within the first eight months. (206 words)

【関西・２月４日】

A. A growing body of research suggests that excessive social media use can have negative effects on the mental health of people of all ages.

B. Not all researchers agree with this, however. Some argue that people who are lonely to begin with, or shy, are more likely to spend long hours on Facebook. So loneliness is not the fault of social media. In any case, widespread usage of social media is a twenty-first century phenomenon, so we are still learning to understand and cope with it.

C. Adults may also become depressed when using Facebook but for a different reason. Findings by the University of Michigan suggest that the more time adults spend using Facebook, the lonelier they become.

D. A recent study of American teenagers found that 22 percent of them log onto social media sites at least ten times a day. Many of them reported being subject to bullying or unwelcome sexual comments online, causing what researchers described as "Facebook depression."

E. Adults' Facebook depression occurs, for example, when people sit alone looking at countless photos of friends having fun or doing something interesting. They may negatively compare their own lives to what they see on their screens.

F. Other research shows that the superficial nature of online friendships can also contribute to feelings of loneliness. The greater the proportion of face-to-face interaction in people's lives, the less lonely they feel. (234 words)

A researcher at the University of California at Berkeley recently made a study of the nation's walking habits and found that the average person in the United States walks less than 120 kilometers a year—about 2 kilometers a week, about 300 meters a day. I'm no stranger to being lazy myself, but that's surprisingly little. I walk more kilometers just looking for the remote control for my TV.

Eighty-five percent of Americans, according to the Berkeley study, are essentially sedentary—we rarely get up from our seats and move around —and 35 percent are totally sedentary. We have become a nation of sitters and riders. One of the things my wife and I wanted when we decided to move back to America from England was to live in a manageably sized town without walking distance of a central business district. Hanover, where we settled, is a typical small town in the Northeast United States, pleasant, calm, and compact. It has a broad central square surrounded by the old and respected buildings of Dartmouth College, a narrow Main Street, and green residential streets. It is, in short, an agreeable, easy place to go about one's business on foot, and yet as far as I can tell almost no one does.

I walk to the center of the town nearly every day when I am at home. I go to the post office or library or bookstore, and sometimes, if I feel like it, I stop at Rosey Jekes Cafe for a cappuccino. Occasionally in the evenings my wife and I stroll up to the Nugget Theater for a movie or to a bar for a beer. All this is a big part of my life and I wouldn't dream of doing it other than on foot. People have gotten used to this unusual behavior now, but several times in the early days, acquaintances who were passing by would slow down by the sidewalk and ask if I wanted a ride.

"But I'm going your way," they would insist when I politely declined. "Really, it's no bother," I would reply. "Well, if you're absolutely sure," they would say and depart reluctantly, even guiltily.

People have become so accustomed using the car for everything that it would never occur to them to use their legs and see what those lower limbs can do. It is worth mentioning that 93 percent of all trips outside the property in the United States now involve the use of a car.

As with most old Northeastern towns designed for another age of transportation, Hanover isn’t a particularly friendly place for cars. Nearly any visit to town by automobile will be characterized by a long and very annoying hunt for a parking space. To improve this, the local authorities are widening roads to speed traffic flow and building new parking lots—Dartmouth recently tore down an old hospital building in order to insert more parking space into the heart of the campus—failing to understand that it is the absence of these features that makes the town desirable in the first place.

But it isn't really the authorities who are to blame. It is the people who wish to take two tons of metal with them wherever they go. We have reached an age where college students expect to drive between classes, where parents will get in a car and drive three blocks to pick up their children from a friend's house, where the postman takes his van up and down every driveway on a street. We will drive to great extents to save ourselves twenty feet of walking.

Sometimes it's almost ridiculous. The other day I was in the little nearby town of Etna waiting to bring home one of my children from a piano lesson. A car stopped outside the local post office and a man about my age popped out and dashed inside and left the engine running. He was inside for about three or four minutes, then came out, got in the car, and drove exactly sixteen feet to the general store next door, and rushed in again, engine still running.

And the thing is, this man looked really fit. I'm sure he jogs great distances and plays sports and does all kinds of very healthful things, but I am just as sure that he drives to each of those undertakings. It's crazy. An acquaintance of ours was complaining how difficult it was to find a place to park outside the local gym. She goes there several times a week to walk on a running machine. The gym is, at most, a six-minute walk from her front door. I asked her why she didn't walk to the gym and do six minutes less on the machine. She looked at me as if I were awfully simple-minded and said, "But I have a program for the running machine. It records my distance and speed and calorie-burn rate, and I can adjust it for degree of difficulty." Her logic does not make any sense to me.

According to a recent editorial in a newspaper, the United States spends less than 1 percent of its $25 billion-a-year highway budget on facilities for pedestrians. Actually, I'm surprised it's that much. Go to almost any suburb developed in the last thirty years and you will not find a sidewalk anywhere. Often you won't find a single pedestrian crossing. The fact is, we not only don't walk anywhere anymore in this country, we won't walk anywhere. And if that isn't sad, I don't know what is. (952 words)

Social researchers have long been interested in philosophical questions about the nature of happiness, and whether or not people truly understand what will make them happy. Recently, some of them have expressed concerns that people are focusing too much on achieving a state of happiness for themselves and their families, and that they are impatient to reach this goal. In fact, a growing number of experts now believe that the way some members of modern society are approaching the pursuit of pleasure actually makes them feel miserable.

In the Western world, there is a very long tradition of "self-help." People try to improve themselves emotionally, intellectually, or financially by means of conscious thought and behavioral change. Self-help theories became more prominent during the twentieth century as the average person gained more time for leisure, including reading. It was in the 1980s, however, that the self-help movement really boomed. This came in response to rising rates of depression in Western society, arising from a difficult period of social, economic and technological change.

Despite the good intentions that inspired the development of the movement, critics, such as Australian social researcher Hugh Mackay, believe it has started to harm society. He feels that it has "become an industry," because it has been taken over by public speakers and writers who present unrealistic views of life, and try to sell happiness as a commodity. According to Mackay, the dominant idea that is being sold is that people should always be bright, happy, and optimistic, because that is their natural condition. As a result, it is increasingly common for people to think that if they are not happy, there must be something mentally wrong with them. In the opinion of Russ Harris, a doctor and author, these days "we refuse to accept that we can't always get what we want." In his recent book The Happiness Trap, Harris argues that currently popular ideas about happiness are confusing and are likely to make people miserable. Some doctors believe that current ideas about happiness are partly to blame for rising rates of heavy drinking, drug use, and obesity. The more we fail to find genuine contentment, the more we seek to fill the gap with unhealthy behaviors that make us feel good for a short time. But as we try to get rid of our feelings of sadness, failure and disappointment, our rates of depression and anxiety continue to rise.

Along with the spread of the "feel-good, think positive" attitude encouraged by the modern self-help industry, experts also note that a related "self-esteem movement" has appeared. According to this outlook, the most important thing that parents can do for their children is to give them self-esteem, or confidence in themselves. Therefore, parents are being urged by the "happiness industry" of life coaches to praise their children at every opportunity in order to make them feel clever and special.

Some of the world's leading happiness specialists now fear that the self-esteem movement will leave future generations hopelessly unprepared to deal with life's disappointments. Researchers are concerned that many parents are raising children who, rather than learning the value of hard work, are acquiring the belief that if they want something desperately enough they can have it. Carol Dweck, professor of psychology at Stanford University, is troubled by the fact that parents are unwilling to let their children struggle. Her research, based on observations of how children react when trying to solve difficult problems, suggests that providing a lot of person praise (such as "you're talented, you're special") only makes children worried. The pressure to merit all the praise they have been given causes them to get upset, or lie about their performance. However, when given process praise (such as "you focused well, you tried hard, you used good strategies") children enjoy trying difficult problems, where they can apply their effort and strategies and show a strong spirit. Professor Dweck urges parents to talk to their children not just about their victories but their struggles. Like Harris, she maintains that accepting disappointments and unpleasant emotions, rather than trying to block them out, is the key to building personal strength.

Already, mental health professionals are seeing the first victims of the self-esteem movement entering therapy. In 2011, American therapist Lori Gottlieb reported that many young adults—largely from happy, loving, advantaged homes—were feeling confused, anxious and empty due to overprotective parenting that focused too much on happiness and protected them from difficulties. After entering the real world, even minor obstacles became disasters for these young people.

The fact that some young people are dealing with issues like this inspired Hugh Mackay to write that we must look beyond the pursuit of success and happiness as life's main goals. According to Mackay, what is most important is developing our relationships with other people and our responsibility for other people's well-being. Doing so supports the growth of communities, which are essential to sustain us through our lives. If we focus only on happiness, we're neglecting the richness of the full range of emotions. In fact, without knowing sadness, we couldn't appreciate happiness. (852 words)

【愛知県立・前期】

`Historical awareness' is a slippery term. It can be regarded as a universal psychological attribute, arising from the fact that we are, all of us, in a sense, historians. Because our species depends more on experience than on instinct, life cannot be lived without the consciousness of a personal past; and someone who has lost it through illness or ageing is generally regarded as disqualified from normal life. As individuals we draw on our experience in all sorts of different ways---as a means of affirming our identity, as a clue to our potential, as the basis for our impression of others, and as some indication of the possibilities that lie ahead. Our memories serve as both a data bank and a means of making sense of an unfolding life story. We know that we cannot understand a situation without some perception of where it fits into a continuing process or whether it has happened before. The same holds true of our lives as social beings. All societies have a collective memory, a storehouse of experience which is drawn on for a sense of identity and a sense of direction. Professional historians commonly deplore the superficiality of popular historical knowledge, but some knowledge of the past is almost universal; without it one is effectively excluded from social and political debate, just as loss of memory disqualifies one from much everyday human interaction. Our political judgements are permeated by a sense of the past, whether we are deciding between the competing claims of political parties or assessing the feasibility of particular policies. To understand our social arrangements, we need to have some notion of where they have come from. In that sense all societies possess `memory'.

But `historical awareness' is not the same thing as social memory. How the past is known and how it is applied to present need are open to widely varying approaches. We know from personal experience that memory is neither fixed nor infallible: we forget, we overlay early memories with later experience, we shift the emphasis, we entertain false memories, and so on. In important matters we are likely to seek confirmation of our memories from an outside source. Collective memory is marked by the same distortions, as our current priorities lead us to highlight some aspects of the past and to exclude others. In our political life especially, memory is highly selective, and sometimes downright erroneous. It is at this point that the term `historical awareness' invites a more rigorous interpretation. Under the Third Reich those Germans who believed that all the disasters in German history were the fault of the Jews certainly acknowledged the power of the past, but we would surely question the extent of their historical awareness. In other words, it is not enough to invoke the past; there must also be a belief that getting the story right matters. History as a disciplined enquiry aims to sustain the widest possible definition of memory, and to make the process of recall as accurate as possible, so that our knowledge of the past is not confined to what is immediately relevant. The goal is a resource with open-ended application, instead of a set of mirror-images of the present. That at least has been the aspiration of historians for the past two centuries.

(John Tosh, The Pursuit of History, Pearson Education Limited, revised third edition 2002, pp. 1-2.)

なかなかわかりにくい英文でした。さして難しい表現やら，構文があるわけでもなく，歴史の入門書ということで，すんなりいくはずでしたが，なんかモヤモヤした感じで，頭に入ってきません。さらに設問がおおざっぱで求められていることが判然とせず，これでは受験生も戸惑ったでしょうが，採点する方も大変だったろうと思います。

Everybody knows the story of the Three Little Pigs. Or at least they think they do. But I'll let you in on a little secret. Nobody knows the real story, because nobody has ever heard my side of the story.

I'm the wolf. Alexander T. Wolf. You can call me Al. I don't know how this whole Big Bad Wolf thing got started, but it's all wrong.

Maybe it's because of our diet. Hey, it's not my fault wolves eat cute little animals like bunnies and sheep and pigs. That's just the way we are. If cheeseburgers were cute, folks would probably think you were Big and Bad, too.

But like I was saying, the whole Big Bad Wolf thing is all wrong. The real story is about a sneeze and a cup of sugar.

Way back in Once Upon a Time time, I was making a birthday cake for my dear old granny. I had a terrible sneezing cold. I ran out of sugar.

So I walked down the street to ask my neighbor for a cup of sugar. Now this neighbor was a pig. And he wasn't too bright, either. He had built his whole house out of straw. Can you believe it? I mean who in his right mind would build a house of straw?

So of course the minute I knocked on the door, it fell right in. I didn't want to just walk into someone else's house. So I called, "Little Pig, Little Pig, are you in?" No answer. I was just about to go home without the cup of sugar for my dear old granny's birthday cake.

That's when my nose started to itch. I felt a sneeze coming on. Well I huffed. And I snuffed.

And you know what? That whole darn straw house fell down. And right in the middle of the pile of straw was the First Little Pig - dead as a doornail. He had been home the whole time.

It seemed like a shame to leave a perfectly good ham dinner lying there in the straw. So I ate it up. Think of it as a big cheeseburger just lying there.

() I was feeling a little better. But I still didn't have my cup of sugar. So I went to the next neighbor's house. This neighbor was the First Little Pig's brother. He was a little smarter, but not much. He had built his house of sticks.

I rang the bell on the stick house. Nobody answered. I called, "Mr. Pig, Mr. Pig, are you in?" He yelled back, "Go away wolf. You can't come in. I'm shaving the hairs on my chinny chin chin."

I had just grabbed the doorknob when I felt another sneeze coming on. I huffed. And I snuffed. And I tried to cover my mouth, but I sneezed a great sneeze.

And you're not going to believe it, but this guy's house fell down just like his brother's. When the dust cleared, there was the Second Little Pig-dead as a doornail. Wolf's honor.

Now you know food will spoil if you just leave it out in the open. So I did the only thing there was to do. I had dinner again. Think of it as a second helping. I was getting awfully full. But my cold was feeling a little better. And I still didn't have that cup of sugar for my dear old granny's birthday cake. So I went to the next house. This guy was the First and Second Little Pigs' brother. He must have been the brains of the family. He had built his house of bricks.

I knocked on the brick house. No answer. I called, "Mr. Pig, Mr. Pig, are you in?" And do you know what that rude little porker answered? "Get out of here, Wolf. Don't bother me again."

Talk about impolite! He probably had a whole sackful of sugar. And he wouldn't give me even one little cup for my dear sweet old granny's birthday cake. What a pig! I was just about to go home and maybe make a nice birthday card instead of a cake, when I felt my cold coming on. I huffed. And I snuffed. And I sneezed once again. Then the Third Little Pig yelled, "And your old granny can sit on a pin!"

Now I'm usually a pretty calm fellow. But when somebody talks about my granny like that, I go a little crazy. When the cops drove up, of course I was trying to break down this Pig's door. And the whole time I was huffing and puffing and sneezing and making a real scene.

The news reporters found out about the two pigs I had for dinner. (5) They figured a sick guy going to borrow a cup of sugar didn't sound very exciting. So they jazzed up the story with all of that "Huff and puff and blow your house down." And they made me the Big Bad Wolf.

(Jon Scieszka, The True Story of the Three Little Pigs, New York: Puffin　Books, 1989.)

この英文は大変おもしろく読めましたが，これまた設問が曖昧で，解答を作る，という点では結構面倒でした。たとえば，I had dinner again.という箇所に下線が引かれ，設問は Read the underlined sentence. Why did Mr. Wolf have dinner gain? Explain in detail in English.このin detailの意味がわかりません。detailがなければ普通に該当箇所を書けば良いのですが，in detailがあるためにどの程度まで書くのか，また，自分の解釈を加えるのか？こんなモヤモヤした設問が続きました。

While some people work for the same organization throughout their entire working life, the majority of university graduates who first commence employment have little idea whether or not they will remain in the same business, and, indeed, for today's younger generation, many believe it is better to work for different employers. If they do decide to change, it is important for them, however, to consider how this will impact their career in the long run.

Workers who stay with the same firm have the advantage of better understanding how it functions and also become familiar with fellow staff and internal procedures. Working hard increases their promotion prospects and there is likely to be greater job security with the promise of a good pension upon retirement. Employers value loyalty and may offer additional incentives to long- (1m term employees, including bonuses and reward schemes.

However, one of the drawbacks of staying with the same company is that one may get stuck doing the same mundane job year after year. In some cases, this (3) can lead to boredom, disillusionment and even burnout for some. Moving from one organisation to another can be a strategic decision in order to have variety and acquire a range of skills and experience.

Alternatively, some achieve high levels of job satisfaction by taking on more responsibility and actively aim to be promoted up the corporate ladder. The

traits in employees that are appealing are: for example, providing solutions rather 4? than problems, presenting themselves well, making their ambitions known, as well as networking and forming relationships at all levels of an organisation. This includes building a meaningful relationship with their superiors from early on in their careers in addition to showing a genuine interest in the company's aims.

Nevertheless, although there are benefits to working for one organisation, it is also valuable for an employee to be able to offer a wide range of experiences from having worked for different companies. As long as it is planned carefully, change is undeniably good and ultimately benefits the company and the employee. In doing so, this lifelong, evolving process of developing and managing one's career to attain individual objectives and goals requires continuous training and study. These skills are particularly crucial in the current climate of unrelenting, transitional changes spurred on by globalisation, demographic shifts, economic and market influences as well as new innovations (5) in technology, consequently requiring workers to show flexibility and demonstrate strong communication skills and enthusiasm.