영어 모의고사 (자동 편성)

For decades, most vaccines worked by ①injecting a weakened or inactivated version of a pathogen, coaxing the immune system into recognizing an enemy it had never truly fought. mRNA vaccines take a fundamentally different route, ②delivering only a short genetic instruction wrapped in a protective lipid capsule, one that tells the body's own cells how to manufacture a single harmless piece of a virus's outer surface protein. Once those cells display the fragment, the immune system learns to recognize it as foreign and ③builds a defense, without ever having encountered the actual pathogen. Because the vaccine contains no live virus and cannot alter a cell's own DNA, developers can redesign the genetic instructions within weeks whenever a pathogen ④mutating, rather than starting the years-long process required for traditional vaccines. This speed, first proven on a global scale during a recent pandemic, has convinced many researchers that the same platform could eventually ⑤be adapted to fight diseases far beyond infectious illness, including certain cancers.

A single fertilized egg eventually ①gives rise to every cell type in the human body, from neurons to bone, a feat that has fascinated biologists for more than a century. Embryonic stem cells retain much of that original versatility, capable in principle of ②develop into almost any tissue, which is why researchers have long viewed them as a promising raw material for repairing damaged organs. Because harvesting these cells traditionally required ③destroying a human embryo, the research provoked ethical objections fierce enough to slow funding and legislation in several countries for years. A breakthrough arrived when scientists discovered that ordinary adult skin cells could be ④reprogrammed, through the introduction of a handful of specific genes, into a state resembling embryonic versatility without ever touching an embryo. These induced pluripotent cells have not entirely erased the ethical debate, but they have opened a path for stem cell research that far more scientists and funding agencies are willing ⑤to support.

Traditional economic models predict that a rational individual offered any positive sum of money, however small, should ①accept it without hesitation, since even a modest gain is preferable to receiving nothing at all. When the proposer offers a division perceived as ②unfair, such as retaining ninety percent of the sum for themselves, the second participant frequently rejects the offer entirely, leaving both parties with nothing rather than accepting an outcome viewed as insulting. This behavior indicates that individuals value fairness as an end in itself, sometimes willingly ③sacrificing material gain to punish perceived exploitation. Neuroscientific investigations complement this finding, revealing that unfair offers activate brain regions associated with ④pleasure and negative emotion, suggesting that the rejection of unfairness is not merely a calculated strategic move but also an emotionally driven response. Such evidence challenges the assumption that economic actors pursue only their own material self-interest, demonstrating instead that considerations of equity can ⑤override the straightforward pursuit of maximum individual gain.

When people are asked to judge how risky or beneficial a particular technology is, they ①often conduct anything resembling a careful cost-benefit analysis. Instead, they consult a quick emotional impression, an ②instinctive sense of whether the technology feels good or feels bad, and let that impression guide their entire judgment. This mental shortcut, known as the affect heuristic, produces a ③curious pattern that traditional risk theory struggles to explain: activities people like tend to be judged as both safer and more beneficial, while activities they dislike are judged as both riskier and less beneficial, even when no logical relationship between risk and benefit exists. For example, when researchers presented a fictional industrial chemical alongside a brief description emphasizing its convenience, participants rated it not only as more useful but also, ④illogically, as less dangerous. Because emotional impressions form so rapidly and feel so trustworthy, correcting for this heuristic requires ⑤deliberate effort; simply presenting more accurate statistics to already anxious or enthusiastic audiences rarely changes their underlying judgment.

The ancient puzzle known as the ship of Theseus asks a deceptively ①simple question. If every plank of a wooden ship is replaced one by one over many years, is the vessel that eventually results still the same ship it once was? Most people's first instinct is to answer yes, since each individual replacement seems too ②small to erase the ship's identity. The puzzle grows far ③duller, however, once a second twist is introduced. Suppose a careful collector gathered every discarded plank and reassembled them into a second vessel, built exactly as the original once stood. Two ships would then exist side by side, each with an equal claim to being the ④genuine one, and no obvious way to decide between them. Philosophers return to this old story again and again, not because they care about timber, but because it forces us to ask whether identity depends on continuous material, continuous form, or some deeper thread that neither one can fully ⑤explain.

Imagine a man locked inside a room who does not understand a single word of Chinese, yet who possesses a giant rulebook written entirely in English. Slips of paper covered with Chinese characters are passed in through a slot, and by following the rulebook's instructions step by step, he produces replies that appear fluent to anyone outside. From the perspective of a native speaker reading the responses, the room seems to understand Chinese perfectly. Yet the man inside understands nothing at all; he is merely manipulating shapes according to formal rules, without grasping their meaning. This scenario was designed to challenge the assumption that a computer running a sophisticated program truly understands language simply because it produces convincing output. Passing every external test of intelligence, the argument suggests, is not the same as possessing genuine understanding, since _______________.

A hamburger patty need not come from a slaughtered animal at all if a small sample of muscle cells can be persuaded to multiply inside a steel tank. (A) Inside a bioreactor, the cells multiply across scaffolding designed to encourage them to align into fibers, gradually thickening into something that begins to resemble muscle tissue rather than a shapeless clump of cells. (B) Cultured meat begins with a biopsy of animal muscle tissue, from which scientists isolate cells capable of dividing repeatedly, then feed those cells a nutrient broth that supplies the sugars, proteins, and minerals an animal's bloodstream would normally provide. (C) Supporters argue that because the process never requires raising and slaughtering a whole animal, it could shrink the land, water, and greenhouse gas emissions associated with conventional meat production, though skeptics counter that producing the specialized broth at scale remains prohibitively expensive.

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.

Critics on the other side argue instead that a state limited to bare protection cannot address deeper inequalities that arise naturally in any free market. Political philosophers have long debated how much authority, if any, a government may legitimately claim over free individuals. ( ① ) Robert Nozick imagined a hypothetical starting point in which people live without any state at all, each relying on private arrangements to protect their own person and property. ( ② ) He argued that a minimal state, limited strictly to enforcing contracts and protecting citizens from violence, theft, and fraud, could arise gradually through a series of voluntary exchanges, without anyone's rights ever being violated along the way. ( ③ ) Critics on one side, the anarchists, insist that even this minimal government inevitably violates the rights of those who never consented to join it. ( ④ ) Nozick's thought experiment therefore sits at the center of an unresolved argument about where legitimate political authority actually begins. ( ⑤ )

The underlying technique, it turns out, borrows more from a familiar desktop machine than one might expect. A printer that once produced only plastic prototypes can now deposit living cells layer by layer to build a structure that begins to resemble actual tissue. ( ① ) Bioprinting adapts the logic of conventional 3D printing, replacing plastic filament with a specialized ink made of living cells suspended in a gel that supports their survival while the shape sets. ( ② ) Printing a flat patch of skin or a simple blood vessel has already moved from laboratory curiosity to early clinical testing, since these tissues are thin enough for nutrients to reach every cell by diffusion. ( ③ ) Printing a solid organ such as a kidney remains a far greater challenge, because internal cells starve without their own blood supply. ( ④ ) No printer yet exists that can build a network of vessels fast enough to keep them alive. ( ⑤ ) Researchers are therefore focusing on hybrid strategies, printing a rough scaffold and then allowing the tissue to mature and grow its own vasculature over time, rather than attempting to print every vessel directly.