영어 모의고사 (자동 편성)

Psychologists studying human judgment often describe the mind as ①operating through two distinct systems rather than a single unified process. System 1 works quickly and automatically, ②generating impressions and snap judgments without any noticeable sense of effort, much as a driver instinctively brakes when a ball suddenly rolls into the street. System 2, by contrast, is slow, deliberate, and demanding, engaged only when a problem ③require careful calculation or conscious reasoning. Most daily decisions are handled almost entirely by System 1, which allows people ④to function efficiently without exhausting their limited mental resources. This efficiency comes at a cost, however, because System 1 relies on simple shortcuts that can produce systematic errors, and System 2 is frequently too lazy or too occupied to double-check them. As a result, a judgment often feels most confident precisely at the moment when it has skipped the careful scrutiny that could have caught its own mistake, leaving the thinker unaware of how easily the impression was ⑤formed.

Physicist Erwin Schrödinger devised a now-famous thought experiment not to describe an actual laboratory procedure, but to ①conceal an absurdity hidden within a leading interpretation of quantum mechanics. Imagine a cat sealed inside a closed box together with a radioactive atom, a Geiger counter, and a vial of poison gas rigged to break open the instant the atom decays. Because the atom's decay is governed by genuine quantum randomness, standard quantum theory describes the atom, before anyone looks, as existing in a ②superposition of having decayed and not having decayed at the same time. If the theory is applied consistently to the entire box, the cat itself would have to be considered ③simultaneously alive and dead until an observer opens the lid and looks inside. Schrödinger intended this image to sound obviously ④ridiculous, using the cat's absurd fate to question whether the act of observation truly determines physical reality, or whether the mathematics is simply being pushed ⑤further than it was ever meant to go.

Conventional economic wisdom holds that more options are always preferable to fewer, since a larger set of alternatives ①increases the likelihood that any individual will find one that precisely matches their preferences. When shoppers are presented with an extensive array of choices, they frequently experience heightened anxiety about making the wrong selection and, paradoxically, become ②less likely to make any purchase or decision at all. Furthermore, individuals who do eventually choose from an overwhelming array often report ③higher satisfaction with their selection than those who chose from a modest handful of options, since the sheer number of unexplored alternatives ④fosters lingering doubt about whether a better choice was overlooked. Businesses that recognize this dynamic have begun deliberately ⑤curating smaller, carefully selected assortments, betting that a narrower range of options can sometimes generate more sales and greater customer satisfaction than abundance.

The human gut hosts trillions of microorganisms whose combined genetic material ①trails that of the human genome itself many times over. Once dismissed as ②passive hitchhikers, these bacteria are now understood to actively shape digestion, regulate immune responses, and even influence the production of chemicals that affect mood and behavior. A microbiome disrupted by antibiotics, poor diet, or chronic stress can leave the gut lining more ③permeable than it should be, allowing substances to leak into the bloodstream that would normally stay contained. Researchers studying this connection have found that transplanting gut bacteria from a healthy donor into a patient can, in some cases, ④relieve symptoms of certain digestive disorders that conventional medication had failed to treat. Still, scientists caution that the microbiome varies enormously between individuals, which means a treatment that restores balance in one person's gut may do ⑤little for someone else's.

Philosopher Robert Nozick asked his readers to imagine a machine capable of producing any experience they ①desired, from writing a great novel to falling in love, all indistinguishable from reality once they were plugged in. Neuroscientists would simply stimulate the brain to generate a lifetime of perfectly satisfying experiences, and the person floating in the tank would have no memory of ever choosing to enter it. If pleasure and the avoidance of pain were truly all that mattered, as classical hedonism claims, then everyone should ②rush to connect themselves permanently to such a machine. Yet when people actually consider the offer, most ③eagerly accept, and many refuse outright. Nozick took this reluctance as evidence that human beings care about more than the quality of their internal sensations; people also want to actually ④do certain things, to actually be a certain kind of person, and to maintain genuine ⑤contact with a reality beyond their own mind.

The discovery of CRISPR gene-editing technology gave scientists a tool precise enough to correct a single mistaken letter in the human genome. Yet editing a gene in a sperm, egg, or early embryo does not simply change one patient; it alters the genetic code passed down to every future generation. Scientific organizations around the world have therefore drawn a careful line, permitting gene editing to treat disease in existing patients while banning any edit that would be inherited by their descendants. Critics worry, however, that _______________.

When people face a difficult decision, they often weigh how painful it would feel to discover later that a different choice had been better. This anticipation of future regret frequently becomes the dominant factor shaping the final decision. Researchers have found that people feel sharper regret over losses that resulted from taking action than over identical losses that resulted from doing nothing, _______________. Ironically, this strategy of avoiding regret can itself produce outcomes that are later regretted even more deeply than the ones it was originally designed to prevent.

Philosophers sometimes ask their students to imagine a creature physically identical to an ordinary human being in every measurable respect, one that walks, talks, laughs, and even cries out in apparent pain when injured, yet that has no inner conscious experience whatsoever. (A) Critics respond that mere conceivability proves very little about what is genuinely possible in the real world. (B) This imagined being, commonly called a philosophical zombie, behaves exactly as a conscious person would, since every neuron fires in precisely the same pattern. (C) Defenders of the argument claim that because such a zombie is at least conceivable without any logical contradiction, consciousness itself cannot be fully explained by physical processes alone.

Imagine standing at a crowded party where dozens of conversations blend into a wall of noise, yet you effortlessly track the words of the friend beside you. Curiously, if someone across the room utters your name, your attention snaps toward that voice almost instantly. This happens even though you had not consciously been listening to that conversation at all. (A) This phenomenon, known as the cocktail party effect, reveals that selective attention does not simply block out every unattended sound. (B) Anne Treisman later refined this account, suggesting that unattended channels are merely attenuated rather than eliminated altogether. Especially meaningful stimuli, including one's own name, can still surpass the threshold of conscious recognition. This refinement suggests that attention operates less like a gate and more like a dimmer switch, adjusting the salience of competing streams of information. (C) Early theorists such as Donald Broadbent proposed that unattended information is filtered out entirely before reaching awareness. Yet the fact that a person's own name can break through this filter contradicts such a rigid model.

Hospitals are increasingly adopting artificial intelligence tools that can scan medical images and flag potential tumors faster than experienced radiologists. (A) The doctor may argue that they simply trusted a tool the hospital required them to use, while the hospital may blame the software company instead. (B) Yet the growing reliance on these tools raises an uncomfortable legal question: when an AI system misses a diagnosis, who is responsible? (C) Until legal systems clarify this chain of responsibility, patients harmed by an algorithmic error may find themselves with no clear party to hold accountable.