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Logical - 04-04-2023
Logical - 04-04-2023
After several months of therapy, Joe shared that he carried a burden he was hesitant to talk about. With some
encouragement, he admitted that he had been treating his four-year-old daughter terribly. He described how
typical events such as trying to get his daughter ready for daycare had triggered his anger, leading him to
handle her roughly – like grabbing her arm or yelling at her. Joe shared other behaviours that he was ashamed
of, such as losing his cool and just walking away while she was crying in the bathtub. Although he was often a
supportive and loving father, Joe (whose name, along with some other details, have been altered here for
anonymity) knew that these actions had hurt his daughter and his family. He wasn’t sure if – or how – he could
forgive himself.
Most of us can look back on our experiences and recall, often with great regret, times when we hurt others or
did something that violated our values. Many people find it hard to forgive themselves for one or more of
these instances, carrying around a considerable burden of guilt. In our clinical work and research on self-
forgiveness, we have spoken with individuals who’ve struggled with a broad range of offences: marital
infidelity, patterns of angry outbursts, physically and verbally fighting with teenage children, manipulating and
stealing from others as a result of drug and alcohol dependencies, abandoning family or friends when they
were in need, and more.
Grappling with what you’ve done wrong prior to forgiving yourself can be a good thing – feelings of guilt can
motivate you to make amends and change any entrenched behaviours. However, sometimes self-forgiveness
seems painfully out of reach. If this is the case for you, you might be having thoughts like ‘I don’t deserve to
forgive myself,’ or ‘I deserve to be punished.’ Or, you may find it hard to forgive yourself for other reasons:
because you just can’t gather the courage to face what you have done, for example, or because you want to
prove to the other person just how sorry you are.
106. Which of the following statements can be inferred from the passage about the importance of
grappling with one's past actions in order to achieve self-forgiveness?
a) Grappling with one's past actions can lead to greater feelings of guilt and shame.
b) Grappling with one's past actions can motivate a person to make amends and change their
behavior.
c) Grappling with one's past actions is not necessary for achieving self-forgiveness.
d) Grappling with one's past actions can cause a person to feel overwhelmed and helpless.
107. Which of the following assumptions can be made about Joe's behavior towards his daughter?
c) Joe was unaware of the impact his behavior had on his daughter.
d) Joe never sought help for his behavior towards his daughter until he began therapy.
108. Which of the following conclusions can be drawn from the passage about the reasons people may
struggle with self-forgiveness?
a) People struggle with self-forgiveness because they feel they do not deserve it.
b) People struggle with self-forgiveness because they are not truly sorry for their actions.
c) People struggle with self-forgiveness because they do not believe their actions can be forgiven.
d) People struggle with self-forgiveness because they have never experienced guilt or remorse.
109. Which of the following arguments could be used to support the idea that self-forgiveness is
important for personal growth and well-being?
110. Which of the following statements, if true, would most weaken the argument that self-forgiveness
is important for personal growth and well-being?
b) Self-forgiveness can cause a person to repeat the same mistakes in the future.
Passage 2
Epicurus writes that ‘pleasure is the starting point and end of living blessedly’, and that he cannot
even ‘conceive’ of the human good without appeal to pleasure. The Epicureans, to use the technical
term, are hedonists – they think pleasure makes life good. Anything other than pleasure is good only
insofar as it produces pleasure, either immediately or in the long run. His commitment to hedonism
grows out of his shockingly modern natural science. Thousands of years before Charles Darwin,
Epicurus argues that humans are sophisticated animals who share the world with the other beings
that have thus far proven fittest for survival. Also ahead of his time, Epicurus denies that the
Universe was created by a divine being for the good of humans; instead, it resulted from the
determinate causal interactions of atoms, along with the occasional spontaneous atomic motion of
the sort postulated in particle physics and modern brain science. For Epicurus, we are animals living
in a material, non-providential Universe.
Animals avoid pain and pursue pleasure by nature (ie, they are hedonists), and our hedonism
resembles the hedonism of every other sentient animal in many respects. Like other animals, we
explore and process the world through sensory experience, especially our feelings of pleasure and
pain. Like other animals, we fundamentally want to feel secure from external threat and experience
pleasure.
Unlike other animals, though, humans have distinctively souped-up brains. We have a sense of
ourselves in time, so we can plan for the future in light of the past. We can experience pleasure from
calling to mind past pleasures, and we can savour current pleasures by giving them special attention.
We communicate our ideas using language and symbols. We also have an awareness of our own
mortality. These higher-order mental capacities increase our available psychological pleasures, but
they can also introduce anxieties like the fear of death or divine retribution.
Again, though, we fundamentally desire security and pleasure because we are animals. Epicurus calls
the distinctively human version of feeling secure ataraxia, commonly translated as ‘tranquility’, a
stable state characterised by the absence of anxiety and the presence of pleasure. Tranquility arises
from appreciating that we have acquired the material, theoretical and interpersonal resources
necessary for psychological health. Though Epicurean hedonism focuses initially on satisfying needs
and removing unnecessary sources of anxiety, tranquility also opens up new opportunities for
unalloyed, anxiety-free joys.
111. Which of the following can be inferred about Epicurus' views on pleasure from the passage?
b) Epicurus believed pleasure should always be pursued, even if it leads to pain in the long run.
c) Epicurus believed pleasure is the starting point and end of living blessedly.
d) Epicurus believed pleasure is a secondary concern compared to other goods like wealth or fame.
112. Which of the following arguments could be used to support Epicurus' view that humans are
hedonistic animals?
a) Humans have the capacity to communicate their ideas using language and symbols.
113. Which of the following statements, if true, would strengthen the argument that Epicurean
hedonism is compatible with modern science?
a) Studies have shown that humans, like other animals, primarily seek pleasure and avoid pain.
b) Epicurean philosophy anticipates modern scientific discoveries about the nature of the universe
and human beings.
c) Epicurean philosophy offers a plausible explanation for how human emotions and behavior are
related to the workings of the brain.
114. Which of the following assumptions can be made about the Epicurean concept of ataraxia?
a) Ataraxia is a stable state characterized by the absence of anxiety and the presence of pleasure.
c) Ataraxia can only be achieved through the pursuit of wealth and fame.
d) Ataraxia is incompatible with human mortality.
115. Which of the following statements, if true, would most weaken the argument that tranquility is
a desirable state for human beings?
d) Tranquility is not a universal goal and can be incompatible with certain cultural or personal values.
Passage 3
For the better part of a decade, scholars and writers across the globe have lamented the growing
prevalence of misinformation, conspiracism, ideology, mistrust of experts, epistemic bubbles and
echo chambers. These scourges make it much harder to solve any problem of politics, climate,
culture or public health, because they frustrate the search for a widely recognised truth. We know
there is something wrong with the way we know.
Accounts of this crisis of knowledge, however, overlook how its differing elements arise from a
common source. Our problem concerns not just the way we generate knowledge but our attitude
toward knowledge, how we present ourselves to each other as knowers. Beneath the
epistemological crisis is a deeper psychological one: the problem of knowingness. Knowingness, as
the philosopher and psychoanalyst Jonathan Lear defines it in Open Minded (1998), is a posture of
always ‘already knowing’, of purporting to know the answers even before the question arises. When
new facts come to light, the knowing person is unperturbed. You may be shocked, but they knew all
along.
In 21st-century culture, knowingness is rampant. You see it in the conspiracy theorist who dismisses
contrary evidence as a ‘false flag’ and in the podcaster for whom ‘late capitalism’ explains all social
woes. It’s the ideologue who knows the media has a liberal bias – or, alternatively, a corporate one.
It’s the above-it-all political centrist, confident that the truth is necessarily found between the
extremes of ‘both sides’. It’s the former US president Donald Trump, who claimed, over and over,
that ‘everybody knows’ things that were, in fact, unknown, unproven or untrue.
Knowingness is a particular danger for people whose job is to inform us. For instance, there is the
pompous professor with the unassailable theory or the physician who enters the examining room
certain the patient’s problems result from the condition the doctor happens to be an expert in. ‘Just
as I thought,’ says the too-knowing oncologist to the patient with ambiguous test results.
‘Fibrosarcoma. It’s always fibrosarcoma.’
Knowingness can also take the form of ironic or cynical distance, of seeming to have seen it all and
gotten over it. It’s the posture of the cool culture maven who has already heard every new band. It’s
equally the stance of the speaker in the biblical book of Ecclesiastes, for whom ‘there is nothing new
under the sun.’
In every case, as Lear puts it, ‘the stance of “already knowing” functions as a defence: if you already
know, you do not need to find out.’ Knowingness, then, is a false claim to knowledge that makes it
impossible to learn anything new. Knowingness is why present-day culture wars are so boring. No
one is trying to find out anything. There is no common agreement about the facts, and yet everyone
acts as if all matters of fact are already settled.
116. Which of the following is the best conclusion that can be drawn from the passage?
b) Scholars and writers have successfully addressed the problem of knowingness in the last decade.
d) Conspiracy theorists are the only ones who suffer from the problem of knowingness.
117. Which of the following strengthens the argument that knowingness is a dangerous attitude to
have?
118. Which of the following weakens the argument that knowingness is a false claim to knowledge?
b) The existence of conspiracy theories that have always turned out to be true
c) The idea that some people are simply more intelligent than others
d) The fact that sometimes people can rely on their instincts to make accurate judgments
119. Based on the passage, which of the following can be inferred about the speaker in the biblical
book of Ecclesiastes?
120. Which of the following assumptions underlies the argument that knowingness makes it
impossible to learn anything new?
a) That people who already know everything are unwilling to accept new information.
b) That people who are knowledgeable about a subject are likely to be arrogant.
d) That people who are open to learning new things are more likely to be successful in life.
Passage 4
There’s an early memory from my childhood, representative of its peak happiness. I’m on a simple,
iron child’s seat on my father’s bike. He’s just picked me up from kindergarten and is taking me home
through the forest on the way to our house. It is a spectacularly fluorescent Danish spring, and we’re
travelling through woodland illuminated, from above, by the light-green foliage of the tall beeches
only just coming into soft leaves and, from below, by snow-white forest anemones spreading around
us in dense, endless carpets.
Bringing this scene to my mind, I don’t ‘see’ anything. I have aphantasia, the neurological condition
of being unable to visualise imagery, also described as the absence of the ‘mind’s eye’. Still, I know
that those visual elements were there; they’re stored in my mind as knowledge and concepts; and I
have particular and strong emotional responses to the thought of the light and colours.
Until very recently, I had always assumed that my experience of reality was typical, and that being
able to see only things that are actually there – present and visible in the external surroundings –
was normal. But discovering that I have aphantasia brought to my awareness differences in
perception and self-conception between me and others that I’d always registered on some level, and
felt disturbed by, but had never consciously thought about.
The further I’ve delved into research on this neurological anomaly, the more extensive its
explanatory reach has proven. It has been like finding the master key to my life and personality, and
has significantly deepened my understanding of my psychology, my philosophical views, and my
aesthetic and literary preferences.
The distinction between what ‘is’ and what ‘isn’t there’ in external reality is, of course, problematic,
as philosophy has observed through the ages and has been confirmed by modern neuroscience. On
the predictive processing model of consciousness – one of the more prominent neuroscientific
theories today – most of what humans perceive as external reality is projection. The neuroscientist
Anil Seth thus explains that the phenomena we experience as objective and independently existing
in our surroundings are, to a great degree, our brain’s best guesses about that reality, generated as a
response to an external reality, but based on saved data and expectations – and, as such, a form of
controlled hallucination.
This makes me wonder how I’m able to project unconsciously what appears to me as fully fledged
external reality, and thus successfully form images as part of the brain’s predictive processing, but
not consciously create images. How can I perceive anything visually? I asked Seth about this at a talk I
attended, and he put me in touch with the psychologist Adam Zeman at the University of Exeter who
is involved in some of the first extensive studies on aphantasia. Zeman gave me a test that measures
visual vividness on a continuum. While such tests entail some uncertainty, in part because they rely
on subjective reporting which is fallible, the result was unambiguous: I have ‘extreme aphantasia’–
ie, no ability to summon up internally even the vaguest, blurriest contours of a specific object.
Neither my memory nor my imagination has any visual dimension.
121. What is the author's attitude towards discovering that they have aphantasia?
A) Negative
B) Indifferent
C) Positive
D) Confused
122. Which of the following best describes the main purpose of the text?
123. Based on the text, which of the following is true about the author's perception of reality?
124. Which of the following would most weaken the author's argument about aphantasia?
125. Based on the text, which of the following can be inferred about the author's philosophical
views?
Passage 5.
What are the main threats to the continued survival of humanity? What catastrophes lie ahead?
These may seem like uniquely modern questions posed by contemporary thinkers in the growing
field of existential risk. Yet, millennia ago, ancient Greek and Roman philosophers were already
formulating and debating such questions. While these thinkers had radically different ways of looking
at the world and one’s place in it, they all agreed that some form of apocalyptic catastrophe awaited
humans in the future.
How can we explain this interest? One of the main reasons is that ancient philosophers realised that
the end of the world is ‘good to think with’. End-of-the-world narratives allow for a form of time
travel. They offer a vision of the future while permitting us to safely witness the coming catastrophe.
The stories we tell about the end of the world reveal much about our current world view and how
the past and present have shaped our current trajectory. Unlike the Biblical tradition, which sees the
end of the world as a day of divine wrath and judgment in which the elect are saved and the rest are
damned, ancient Greek and Roman philosophers saw the end of the world as a natural process that
was part of the regular functioning of the cosmos. They largely posited that human development is
limited, and that humanity and world catastrophe are inextricably linked. Nature has imposed fixed
and inexorable limits to human growth and development. Such messages are increasingly urgent
today.
In the ancient world, as today, there were many different scenarios for how the world might end, and
these were often in critical dialogue with each other as well as with earlier stories about destructions
by fire and water. Already in the 6th century BCE, Anaximander may have posited that all of Earth’s
water will eventually dry up, leaving a parched and barren world without life. By contrast, his
successor Xenophanes argued that the world will actually be destroyed by water. (He even offered
evidence that there had already been a great flood, noting that seashells have been found on land
far from water.) It is in Plato’s philosophy, from the mid-4th century BCE, that we find some of the
first sustained attempts to envision multiple end-of-the-world scenarios: fires, floods, earthquakes
and disease. He writes in the Timaeus: ‘there have been and there will be a great many destructions
of humans’ (all translations are my own). Rather than understanding history as headed toward a
definitive, teleological end, Plato sees human development as continually determined by various
forms of world catastrophe, and these accounts make for some of his most intriguing philosophical
insights. In his dialogues Timaeus and Critias, Plato used this theory to tell the story, likely of his own
invention, of the destruction of Atlantis. He also adopts something of an early ecocritcal stance when
describing the changes that have occurred to the natural environment around Athens as a result of
these periodic disasters. In his final dialogue, the Laws, Plato imagines how these repeated terrestrial
catastrophes shape the development of political life.
A) Ancient philosophers were more concerned with the end of the world than contemporary
thinkers.
C) Ancient Greek and Roman philosophers saw the end of the world as a natural process.
D) The end of the world is a topic that has interested thinkers throughout history.
127. Which of the following best describes the purpose of the passage?
A) To provide an overview of ancient Greek and Roman philosophy.
C) To argue that ancient philosophers had insights into existential risks that are still relevant today.
128. What can be inferred about the author's view of end-of-the-world narratives?
B) They allow us to imagine the future while avoiding the actual catastrophe.
C) They reveal how the past and present have shaped our current trajectory.
129. Which of the following, if true, would strengthen the author's argument that the end of the
world is a topic of enduring interest?
C) Ancient Greek and Roman philosophers saw the end of the world as a natural process.
D) There is evidence that people in ancient civilizations believed in the possibility of world
catastrophe.
130. What can be inferred about Plato's philosophy from the passage?
B) Plato believed that human development was limited and shaped by world catastrophe.
Passage 6.
When we tell our stories, we often focus on the tectonic events that have structured the landscape
of our lives. We might recall the moment we met our future partner and fell in love at first sight; the
time we were utterly broken by the unexpected death of a loved one; or a moment of spiritual
awakening or enlightenment. These experiences are so profound that they change us forever. They
shake the very foundations of our belief and value systems, altering both the world we inhabit and
who we take ourselves to be. In the aftermath, nothing is the same.
We tend to think of major personal transformations as big, loud and sudden. We imagine an
explosion of fireworks or, conversely, an earthquake that brings everything crashing down. But
personal transformations don’t always follow a ‘bang’. Sometimes they build from a whisper.
As a philosopher of mind, I think the key ingredients of personal transformation are not always found
in tectonic events. Drawing from research on consciousness in sleep, dreaming and mind-wandering,
I believe that the landscape of our lives can be changed in much more subtle and gradual ways. This
type of change can easily be overlooked when we focus on fireworks or earthquakes. Yet the
ingredients of personal transformation are in each of us, right now, in the incessant whispers in our
stream of consciousness.
We all have a near-constant flow of thoughts and images that runs through our minds by day and
night, channelling our decisions, actions and emotions. Though we can focus our attention and
deliberately think through a particular problem, many of the thoughts and images in our stream of
consciousness happen spontaneously without intention or reflection. They bubble up and disappear
seemingly on their own and, if we become aware of them at all, we often forget about them
immediately afterwards. Though inconspicuous and elusive, these spontaneous thoughts and images
form a near-constant backdrop to our conscious lives; they are the whispers in our stream of
consciousness.
Because of their elusiveness, these thoughts are not the same as the experiences and events we
typically associate with large-scale personal transformation. But just as a trickle of water can, over
time, cut deep gorges into a landscape, so too can the whispers of spontaneous thoughts scale up to
larger changes. To understand the transformative potential of our stream of consciousness, I suggest
we look in places where these ‘whispers’ are least suppressed: our dreams and daydreams.
131. What is the author's main argument about personal transformation in this passage?
C. Personal transformation can also occur through subtle and gradual changes in our stream of
consciousness.
132. According to the passage, what are some examples of tectonic events that can cause personal
transformation?
133. What are the "whispers" in our stream of consciousness that the author refers to in the
passage?
A. Loud and sudden thoughts that shake the foundations of our belief and value systems
B. Spontaneous thoughts and images that form a near-constant backdrop to our conscious lives
C. Dreams and daydreams that reveal our deepest desires and fears
134. What is the main analogy used in the passage to describe the potential of our stream of
consciousness to cause personal transformation?
135. According to the author, why is it important to pay attention to our dreams and daydreams in
order to understand the transformative potential of our stream of consciousness?
A. Dreams and daydreams are the only types of spontaneous thoughts that can cause personal
transformation.
B. Dreams and daydreams are the most suppressed types of spontaneous thoughts, so they reveal
our true desires and fears.
C. Dreams and daydreams provide a window into the types of thoughts and images that are
constantly flowing through our minds.
D. Dreams and daydreams are the only types of thoughts and images that occur without intention or
reflection.
a) the passage as it states that "Our problem concerns not just the way we generate knowledge but
our attitude toward knowledge, how we present ourselves to each other as knowers" and "Beneath
the epistemological crisis is a deeper psychological one: the problem of knowingness." Therefore, the
root cause of the epistemological crisis is the problem of knowingness.
d) This strengthens the argument that knowingness is a dangerous attitude to have because if
someone recognizes their own limitations, they are more likely to be open to new information and
perspectives. They are less likely to be overconfident in their own knowledge and more likely to be
willing to learn.
b) The existence of conspiracy theories that have always turned out to be true weakens the
argument that knowingness is a false claim to knowledge.
a) This can be inferred from the passage because the speaker in Ecclesiastes is described as having a
posture of "seeming to have seen it all and gotten over it" and believing that "there is nothing new
under the sun." This suggests a skeptical attitude towards the possibility of learning anything new.
a) This assumption underlies the argument that knowingness makes it impossible to learn anything
new because if someone already believes they know everything, they are less likely to be open to
new information and perspectives. This can hinder the ability to learn and grow.