Verbal Ability & Reading Comprehension (VARC) Test - 22

Read the passage and answer the questions that follow.

Discussions over misinformation, disinformation, and ‘fake news’ have reignited interest in news literacy. A wide range of different actors — from educators to technology companies — believe that raising news literacy would make people better able to separate fact from fiction, potentially limiting the spread of false information and leaving them better equipped to navigate partisan media environments. Others, however, have struck a note of caution by arguing that we need to think carefully about what news literacy should look like. In the past, news literacy largely meant teaching people to be sceptical or giving them ways of questioning the stories told by the mass media. How useful are such skills in a world where many believe that trust in institutions, including the news media, is already dangerously low?

The answer lies in considering the relationship between trust and news literacy. Many people hope that increasing overall levels of news literacy will reverse the decline in news trust we see in many countries as people will have better judgement. This sounds like a reasonable assumption, but news literacy may also go hand in hand with a high degree of scepticism. Even if we focus on news production, the more people know about how the news is made, the more knowledgeable they will be about its limitations and imperfections. This may be why we see only a very small increase in trust levels as news literacy increases.
We must also consider the possibility that those with higher levels of news literacy may rely less on social media for news, yet they appear to be more discerning when they do use it. When deciding whether to click through to a story, they are more likely to pay attention to a range of different credibility cues. Compared to those with lower levels of news literacy, they are more likely to say that the news brand, the headline, and the person who shared the story are important in deciding whether it is worth their time.

The exception to this rule is the number of comments, likes, or shares, which is the least important cue across all groups but is more important among those with the lowest level of news literacy. However, they are also less likely to share or comment on news themselves, so the simple idea that low-quality news is primarily spread by people with low news literacy may only be partly true. The use of social media for news has often been associated with more diverse news diets, increases in political participation, and modest depolarization of political attitudes. So as search engines and social media become more important to the news ecosystem, any attempt to raise news literacy should also aim to improve the knowledge of both the positive and negative outcomes.

Read the passage and answer the questions that follow.

Discussions over misinformation, disinformation, and ‘fake news’ have reignited interest in news literacy. A wide range of different actors — from educators to technology companies — believe that raising news literacy would make people better able to separate fact from fiction, potentially limiting the spread of false information and leaving them better equipped to navigate partisan media environments. Others, however, have struck a note of caution by arguing that we need to think carefully about what news literacy should look like. In the past, news literacy largely meant teaching people to be sceptical or giving them ways of questioning the stories told by the mass media. How useful are such skills in a world where many believe that trust in institutions, including the news media, is already dangerously low?

The answer lies in considering the relationship between trust and news literacy. Many people hope that increasing overall levels of news literacy will reverse the decline in news trust we see in many countries as people will have better judgement. This sounds like a reasonable assumption, but news literacy may also go hand in hand with a high degree of scepticism. Even if we focus on news production, the more people know about how the news is made, the more knowledgeable they will be about its limitations and imperfections. This may be why we see only a very small increase in trust levels as news literacy increases.

We must also consider the possibility that those with higher levels of news literacy may rely less on social media for news, yet they appear to be more discerning when they do use it. When deciding whether to click through to a story, they are more likely to pay attention to a range of different credibility cues. Compared to those with lower levels of news literacy, they are more likely to say that the news brand, the headline, and the person who shared the story are important in deciding whether it is worth their time.

The exception to this rule is the number of comments, likes, or shares, which is the least important cue across all groups but is more important among those with the lowest level of news literacy. However, they are also less likely to share or comment on news themselves, so the simple idea that low-quality news is primarily spread by people with low news literacy may only be partly true. The use of social media for news has often been associated with more diverse news diets, increases in political participation, and modest depolarization of political attitudes. So as search engines and social media become more important to the news ecosystem, any attempt to raise news literacy should also aim to improve the knowledge of both the positive and negative outcomes.

Read the passage and answer the questions that follow.

Discussions over misinformation, disinformation, and ‘fake news’ have reignited interest in news literacy. A wide range of different actors — from educators to technology companies — believe that raising news literacy would make people better able to separate fact from fiction, potentially limiting the spread of false information and leaving them better equipped to navigate partisan media environments. Others, however, have struck a note of caution by arguing that we need to think carefully about what news literacy should look like. In the past, news literacy largely meant teaching people to be sceptical or giving them ways of questioning the stories told by the mass media. How useful are such skills in a world where many believe that trust in institutions, including the news media, is already dangerously low?

The answer lies in considering the relationship between trust and news literacy. Many people hope that increasing overall levels of news literacy will reverse the decline in news trust we see in many countries as people will have better judgement. This sounds like a reasonable assumption, but news literacy may also go hand in hand with a high degree of scepticism. Even if we focus on news production, the more people know about how the news is made, the more knowledgeable they will be about its limitations and imperfections. This may be why we see only a very small increase in trust levels as news literacy increases.

We must also consider the possibility that those with higher levels of news literacy may rely less on social media for news, yet they appear to be more discerning when they do use it. When deciding whether to click through to a story, they are more likely to pay attention to a range of different credibility cues. Compared to those with lower levels of news literacy, they are more likely to say that the news brand, the headline, and the person who shared the story are important in deciding whether it is worth their time.

The exception to this rule is the number of comments, likes, or shares, which is the least important cue across all groups but is more important among those with the lowest level of news literacy. However, they are also less likely to share or comment on news themselves, so the simple idea that low-quality news is primarily spread by people with low news literacy may only be partly true. The use of social media for news has often been associated with more diverse news diets, increases in political participation, and modest depolarization of political attitudes. So as search engines and social media become more important to the news ecosystem, any attempt to raise news literacy should also aim to improve the knowledge of both the positive and negative outcomes.

Read the following passage and answer the set of five questions that follow.

Those who speak out against bad treatment are often dismissed as ‘playing the victim’, accused of dwelling on imagined slights or indulging in an exaggerated sense of grievance. In the face of ridicule or, worse, the threat of violence, it would be easier to keep quiet. And yet, victims of injustice often do speak up: far from any desire for glory, they are often morally motivated, and act from a sense of duty.

Someone who is subjected to demeaning treatment might owe it to herself to protest and to undermine the apparatus of assumptions, stereotypes and norms that enable this treatment. But, importantly, she might also owe it to others who are vulnerable to similar treatment - fellow victims - to resist the injustices they face collectively and repeatedly. This is especially the case for what the US political theorist Iris Marion Young in 2003 called structural injustices, which are perpetuated through seemingly benign institutions, everyday practices, background assumptions and expected behaviours. Even where there is no explicit discriminatory policy, in fact when such discrimination is publicly, repeatedly and earnestly disavowed, oppression on the basis of, for example, class, race and sex prevails.

Such structural injustice is manifested in a number of ways, from lower life expectancies and the prevalence of sexual and intimate partner violence, to the perception of diminished competence in the workplace and casual condescension in conversation. Structural injustice is typically characterised by ambiguity. It is often unclear whether a particular interaction is, in fact, a manifestation of structural injustice. It is also unclear how to delineate between perpetrators, bystanders and victims, given that so many of the mechanisms of structural injustice are unconscious, driven by social norms as much as by individuals, such that victims can be complicit in their own oppression, and that victims of one form of injustice can be perpetrators of another. And finally, it is unclear what a remedy would consist of.

The insidiousness of structural injustice rests on this ambiguity. Often, there is no intentional wrongdoing as such; perpetrators are unaware of their wrongdoing, and might genuinely disavow the values and norms implicit in their conduct. To bystanders, nothing noteworthy has taken place. The insult is unseen and unheard - except perhaps by those on the receiving end. In such cases, victims are epistemically privileged: they are aware that some set of seemingly benign norms or behaviour are in fact wrongs, they are aware that these norms might be harmful, and they notice when this harm is being done. In effect, they might be the only bystanders aware of the wrongdoing and therefore in a position to seek a remedy; in such cases, they will have a prima facie duty to do so. Unlike self-regarding duties, this duty is owed primarily to the class of victims, actual and prospective, who face wrongful treatment. For well-meaning but fallible individuals aiming to do right, victims potentially play a crucial role in helping them realise that aim; for fellow victims, they are collaborators in curing unjust practices and institutions.

Read the following passage and answer the set of five questions that follow.

Those who speak out against bad treatment are often dismissed as ‘playing the victim’, accused of dwelling on imagined slights or indulging in an exaggerated sense of grievance. In the face of ridicule or, worse, the threat of violence, it would be easier to keep quiet. And yet, victims of injustice often do speak up: far from any desire for glory, they are often morally motivated, and act from a sense of duty.

Someone who is subjected to demeaning treatment might owe it to herself to protest and to undermine the apparatus of assumptions, stereotypes and norms that enable this treatment. But, importantly, she might also owe it to others who are vulnerable to similar treatment - fellow victims - to resist the injustices they face collectively and repeatedly. This is especially the case for what the US political theorist Iris Marion Young in 2003 called structural injustices, which are perpetuated through seemingly benign institutions, everyday practices, background assumptions and expected behaviours. Even where there is no explicit discriminatory policy, in fact when such discrimination is publicly, repeatedly and earnestly disavowed, oppression on the basis of, for example, class, race and sex prevails.

Such structural injustice is manifested in a number of ways, from lower life expectancies and the prevalence of sexual and intimate partner violence, to the perception of diminished competence in the workplace and casual condescension in conversation. Structural injustice is typically characterised by ambiguity. It is often unclear whether a particular interaction is, in fact, a manifestation of structural injustice. It is also unclear how to delineate between perpetrators, bystanders and victims, given that so many of the mechanisms of structural injustice are unconscious, driven by social norms as much as by individuals, such that victims can be complicit in their own oppression, and that victims of one form of injustice can be perpetrators of another. And finally, it is unclear what a remedy would consist of.

The insidiousness of structural injustice rests on this ambiguity. Often, there is no intentional wrongdoing as such; perpetrators are unaware of their wrongdoing, and might genuinely disavow the values and norms implicit in their conduct. To bystanders, nothing noteworthy has taken place. The insult is unseen and unheard - except perhaps by those on the receiving end. In such cases, victims are epistemically privileged: they are aware that some set of seemingly benign norms or behaviour are in fact wrongs, they are aware that these norms might be harmful, and they notice when this harm is being done. In effect, they might be the only bystanders aware of the wrongdoing and therefore in a position to seek a remedy; in such cases, they will have a prima facie duty to do so. Unlike self-regarding duties, this duty is owed primarily to the class of victims, actual and prospective, who face wrongful treatment. For well-meaning but fallible individuals aiming to do right, victims potentially play a crucial role in helping them realise that aim; for fellow victims, they are collaborators in curing unjust practices and institutions.

Read the following passage and answer the set of five questions that follow.

Those who speak out against bad treatment are often dismissed as ‘playing the victim’, accused of dwelling on imagined slights or indulging in an exaggerated sense of grievance. In the face of ridicule or, worse, the threat of violence, it would be easier to keep quiet. And yet, victims of injustice often do speak up: far from any desire for glory, they are often morally motivated, and act from a sense of duty.

Someone who is subjected to demeaning treatment might owe it to herself to protest and to undermine the apparatus of assumptions, stereotypes and norms that enable this treatment. But, importantly, she might also owe it to others who are vulnerable to similar treatment - fellow victims - to resist the injustices they face collectively and repeatedly. This is especially the case for what the US political theorist Iris Marion Young in 2003 called structural injustices, which are perpetuated through seemingly benign institutions, everyday practices, background assumptions and expected behaviours. Even where there is no explicit discriminatory policy, in fact when such discrimination is publicly, repeatedly and earnestly disavowed, oppression on the basis of, for example, class, race and sex prevails.

Such structural injustice is manifested in a number of ways, from lower life expectancies and the prevalence of sexual and intimate partner violence, to the perception of diminished competence in the workplace and casual condescension in conversation. Structural injustice is typically characterised by ambiguity. It is often unclear whether a particular interaction is, in fact, a manifestation of structural injustice. It is also unclear how to delineate between perpetrators, bystanders and victims, given that so many of the mechanisms of structural injustice are unconscious, driven by social norms as much as by individuals, such that victims can be complicit in their own oppression, and that victims of one form of injustice can be perpetrators of another. And finally, it is unclear what a remedy would consist of.

The insidiousness of structural injustice rests on this ambiguity. Often, there is no intentional wrongdoing as such; perpetrators are unaware of their wrongdoing, and might genuinely disavow the values and norms implicit in their conduct. To bystanders, nothing noteworthy has taken place. The insult is unseen and unheard - except perhaps by those on the receiving end. In such cases, victims are epistemically privileged: they are aware that some set of seemingly benign norms or behaviour are in fact wrongs, they are aware that these norms might be harmful, and they notice when this harm is being done. In effect, they might be the only bystanders aware of the wrongdoing and therefore in a position to seek a remedy; in such cases, they will have a prima facie duty to do so. Unlike self-regarding duties, this duty is owed primarily to the class of victims, actual and prospective, who face wrongful treatment. For well-meaning but fallible individuals aiming to do right, victims potentially play a crucial role in helping them realise that aim; for fellow victims, they are collaborators in curing unjust practices and institutions.

Read the following passage and answer the set of five questions that follow.

Those who speak out against bad treatment are often dismissed as ‘playing the victim’, accused of dwelling on imagined slights or indulging in an exaggerated sense of grievance. In the face of ridicule or, worse, the threat of violence, it would be easier to keep quiet. And yet, victims of injustice often do speak up: far from any desire for glory, they are often morally motivated, and act from a sense of duty.

Someone who is subjected to demeaning treatment might owe it to herself to protest and to undermine the apparatus of assumptions, stereotypes and norms that enable this treatment. But, importantly, she might also owe it to others who are vulnerable to similar treatment - fellow victims - to resist the injustices they face collectively and repeatedly. This is especially the case for what the US political theorist Iris Marion Young in 2003 called structural injustices, which are perpetuated through seemingly benign institutions, everyday practices, background assumptions and expected behaviours. Even where there is no explicit discriminatory policy, in fact when such discrimination is publicly, repeatedly and earnestly disavowed, oppression on the basis of, for example, class, race and sex prevails.

Such structural injustice is manifested in a number of ways, from lower life expectancies and the prevalence of sexual and intimate partner violence, to the perception of diminished competence in the workplace and casual condescension in conversation. Structural injustice is typically characterised by ambiguity. It is often unclear whether a particular interaction is, in fact, a manifestation of structural injustice. It is also unclear how to delineate between perpetrators, bystanders and victims, given that so many of the mechanisms of structural injustice are unconscious, driven by social norms as much as by individuals, such that victims can be complicit in their own oppression, and that victims of one form of injustice can be perpetrators of another. And finally, it is unclear what a remedy would consist of.

The insidiousness of structural injustice rests on this ambiguity. Often, there is no intentional wrongdoing as such; perpetrators are unaware of their wrongdoing, and might genuinely disavow the values and norms implicit in their conduct. To bystanders, nothing noteworthy has taken place. The insult is unseen and unheard - except perhaps by those on the receiving end. In such cases, victims are epistemically privileged: they are aware that some set of seemingly benign norms or behaviour are in fact wrongs, they are aware that these norms might be harmful, and they notice when this harm is being done. In effect, they might be the only bystanders aware of the wrongdoing and therefore in a position to seek a remedy; in such cases, they will have a prima facie duty to do so. Unlike self-regarding duties, this duty is owed primarily to the class of victims, actual and prospective, who face wrongful treatment. For well-meaning but fallible individuals aiming to do right, victims potentially play a crucial role in helping them realise that aim; for fellow victims, they are collaborators in curing unjust practices and institutions.

Read the following passage and answer the set of five questions that follow.

Those who speak out against bad treatment are often dismissed as ‘playing the victim’, accused of dwelling on imagined slights or indulging in an exaggerated sense of grievance. In the face of ridicule or, worse, the threat of violence, it would be easier to keep quiet. And yet, victims of injustice often do speak up: far from any desire for glory, they are often morally motivated, and act from a sense of duty.

Someone who is subjected to demeaning treatment might owe it to herself to protest and to undermine the apparatus of assumptions, stereotypes and norms that enable this treatment. But, importantly, she might also owe it to others who are vulnerable to similar treatment - fellow victims - to resist the injustices they face collectively and repeatedly. This is especially the case for what the US political theorist Iris Marion Young in 2003 called structural injustices, which are perpetuated through seemingly benign institutions, everyday practices, background assumptions and expected behaviours. Even where there is no explicit discriminatory policy, in fact when such discrimination is publicly, repeatedly and earnestly disavowed, oppression on the basis of, for example, class, race and sex prevails.

Such structural injustice is manifested in a number of ways, from lower life expectancies and the prevalence of sexual and intimate partner violence, to the perception of diminished competence in the workplace and casual condescension in conversation. Structural injustice is typically characterised by ambiguity. It is often unclear whether a particular interaction is, in fact, a manifestation of structural injustice. It is also unclear how to delineate between perpetrators, bystanders and victims, given that so many of the mechanisms of structural injustice are unconscious, driven by social norms as much as by individuals, such that victims can be complicit in their own oppression, and that victims of one form of injustice can be perpetrators of another. And finally, it is unclear what a remedy would consist of.

The insidiousness of structural injustice rests on this ambiguity. Often, there is no intentional wrongdoing as such; perpetrators are unaware of their wrongdoing, and might genuinely disavow the values and norms implicit in their conduct. To bystanders, nothing noteworthy has taken place. The insult is unseen and unheard - except perhaps by those on the receiving end. In such cases, victims are epistemically privileged: they are aware that some set of seemingly benign norms or behaviour are in fact wrongs, they are aware that these norms might be harmful, and they notice when this harm is being done. In effect, they might be the only bystanders aware of the wrongdoing and therefore in a position to seek a remedy; in such cases, they will have a prima facie duty to do so. Unlike self-regarding duties, this duty is owed primarily to the class of victims, actual and prospective, who face wrongful treatment. For well-meaning but fallible individuals aiming to do right, victims potentially play a crucial role in helping them realise that aim; for fellow victims, they are collaborators in curing unjust practices and institutions.