영어 모의고사 (자동 편성)

Sensors buried in the soil now report moisture levels in real time, drones survey entire fields for signs of disease within minutes, and automated systems adjust irrigation without a farmer ever ①walking the rows. For large operations with the capital ②to invest, these tools have measurably increased yields while reducing water waste, addressing two problems that traditional farming has struggled with for generations. Smaller family farms, however, often cannot afford the upfront cost of this equipment, and some worry that the gap between high-tech and traditional operations will only ③widen as the technology advances further. There is also a quieter cultural cost that rarely appears in productivity reports: generations of farming knowledge, passed down through direct observation of soil, weather, and crops, risk ④being replaced by dashboards and automated alerts that few young farmers ⑤teaching to question.

For much of the twentieth century, memory researchers assumed that once a memory ①had been consolidated—transformed from a fragile, short-term trace into a stable, long-term representation—it remained essentially fixed, immune to further modification unless the underlying neural circuitry was physically damaged. This assumption, however, was overturned by a body of research demonstrating that the act of retrieval itself ②can destabilizing a previously consolidated memory, ③rendering it temporarily susceptible to alteration before it is, in a sense, filed away again. During this narrow window, ④which typically lasts only a few hours, the memory can be strengthened, weakened, or even subtly distorted by new information encountered in the interim, after which it must undergo a second round of stabilization, a process now widely referred to as reconsolidation. Consequently, what we experience as a stable recollection may actually be a continuously revised construction, reshaped every time it ⑤is summoned into conscious awareness and returned to storage.

As cities have expanded across landscapes once covered with ①absorbent soil, impervious surfaces have turned stormwater from a resource that recharges groundwater into a hazard that floods streets and carries pollutants into waterways. Green infrastructure, which mimics the hydrological functions that natural landscapes once performed, offers planners a way to treat the city as a sponge rather than a ②rigid drainage pipe. Rain gardens, shallow depressions planted with deep-rooted vegetation, are designed to capture runoff from rooftops, allowing it to filter ③rapidly through soil before reaching underground aquifers. Permeable pavement, made of porous materials that let water pass directly through, serves a similar purpose along sidewalks, where asphalt would remain ④impenetrable. For example, cities that replaced pavement with permeable alternatives have reported ⑤notable reductions in flooding during storms that once overwhelmed sewers. However, engineers caution that green infrastructure cannot entirely replace conventional pipes in dense cores, where heavy runoff still requires structural reinforcement. Consequently, municipalities now regard green and gray infrastructure as complementary systems, each compensating for the other's limitations.

Social media platforms rarely show users a neutral stream of information. Instead, recommendation algorithms are ①optimized to maximize engagement, and content that provokes strong emotion, particularly outrage, tends to hold attention longer than balanced reporting ever could. Over time, users exposed to a steady diet of emotionally charged content may come to believe that extreme opinions are far more ②common than they actually are, simply because those opinions dominate their feed. Researchers describe this as a ③distorted mirror: the platform reflects not society as it truly is, but a version shaped by whatever keeps people scrolling. Some platforms have experimented with reducing the visibility of outrage-driven content, only to see user engagement ④drop, which reveals an uncomfortable truth about the underlying business model. This ⑤confirms that emotionally extreme content plays little role in keeping the platform profitable.

As more schools shift toward digital textbooks and online assignments, a student without reliable internet access at home faces a disadvantage that has little to do with talent or effort. During recent years, this gap became ①impossible to ignore, as families in rural areas or low-income neighborhoods struggled to complete schoolwork that assumed a stable connection and a personal device. Some policymakers initially treated internet access as a ②convenience, comparable to cable television, rather than as infrastructure essential to modern life. That assumption is increasingly being reconsidered, particularly as more essential services move online by default. Closing this divide will require ③far less than simply distributing devices; it will demand ④sustained investment in the physical networks that carry information into every home, ⑤regardless of income or location.

Imagine two travelers preparing for the same trip: one ①agrees to fly after watching news coverage of a recent plane crash, while the other books a flight without hesitation. Statistically, air travel remains far ②safer than driving the same distance by car, yet vivid, emotionally charged images tend to ③dominate human judgment more powerfully than dry statistics ever could. This tendency, in which people estimate how likely an event is based on how easily examples come to mind rather than on actual data, quietly shapes countless everyday decisions. News broadcasts that repeatedly feature rare disasters can leave viewers convinced that such events are ④common, even though official records clearly show the opposite. Advertisers and politicians alike ⑤exploit this pattern, knowing that a single striking anecdote often persuades audiences more effectively than pages of careful statistics ever manage to.

Beyond restoring lost function, engineers are now exploring implants and prosthetics designed to give healthy people abilities beyond ordinary human limits, from night vision to reaction times faster than any athlete could achieve through training alone. Supporters frame this as simply the next step in a long history of human enhancement, ①no different in principle from eyeglasses or vaccines, only more direct. Critics counter that earlier enhancements were broadly available to anyone regardless of wealth, while cutting-edge neural and physical implants are likely to remain ②expensive for decades, potentially splitting society into those who can afford enhancement and those who cannot. If such a divide hardens, competitive advantages in school, sports, and the workplace could come to depend ③less on effort than on access to capital. What began as a medical tool for restoring what was lost, in other words, may end up ④preserving the baseline of what counts as an ordinary human being, keeping the definition of "normal" ⑤unchanged for future generations.

As private companies develop the technology to mine asteroids for rare metals and water, a legal question once confined to science fiction has suddenly become ①urgent: who, if anyone, owns the resources of outer space? Existing international treaties state that no nation may claim sovereignty over celestial bodies, but they say remarkably ②little about whether a private company may extract and sell what it finds there. Some governments have already passed domestic laws granting their own companies rights to material mined in space, a move that other nations view as a ③collective attempt to settle a question that should be decided collectively. Supporters of space mining argue that new resources could ④ease shortages on Earth and fund further exploration, while critics ⑤warn that treating space as an open frontier for extraction risks repeating the same mistakes that colonization caused on Earth.

People often recognize, in calm reflection, that their future selves will be tempted to abandon a goal they currently value. Rather than relying solely on willpower at the critical moment, they may choose to _______________, a strategy known as precommitment. By making certain choices costly, inconvenient, or impossible to reverse, individuals can protect a long-term goal from a short-term impulse that has not yet arisen. Similarly, someone determined to finish a project might publicly announce a deadline, transforming private intentions into a commitment that carries social consequences if broken. What unites these examples is a simple insight: because future desires cannot always be trusted, the wisest moment to act may be now.

No further reminders, willpower, or repeated decisions are required once the initial commitment has been made. The design of behavioral savings programs deliberately minimizes the number of decisions a participant must make over time. ( ① ) At the moment of hiring, an employee is asked only once whether to commit future salary increases to retirement savings. ( ② ) If the employee agrees, that single decision governs all future contribution increases automatically. ( ③ ) This stands in sharp contrast to conventional savings advice, which typically asks individuals to make a fresh decision to save more each time their income changes. ( ④ ) Because each additional decision creates another opportunity for procrastination or reconsideration, minimizing the number of required decisions substantially increases the likelihood that saving actually occurs. ( ⑤ ) The program's success, in this sense, stems less from persuading people to value saving more than from reducing the number of moments at which they could choose not to.