Verbal Ability ...

Directions : The passage below is accompanied by four questions. Based on the passage, choose the best answer for each question.

Sometime late this century, someone will push a button, unleashing a life force on the cosmos. Within 1,000 years, every star you can see at night will host intelligent life. In less than a million years, that life will saturate the entire Milky Way; in 20 million years - the local group of galaxies. In the fullness of cosmic time, thousands of superclusters of galaxies will be saturated in a forever-expanding sphere of influence, centred on Earth. This won't require exotic physics. The basic ingredients have been understood since the 1960s. What's needed is an automated spacecraft that can locate worlds on which to land, build infrastructure, and eventually make copies of itself. The copies are then sent forth to do likewise - in other words, they are von Neumann probes (VNPs). We'll stipulate a very fast one, travelling at a respectable fraction of the speed of light, with an extremely long range (able to coast between galaxies) and carrying an enormous trove of information. Ambitious, yes, but there's nothing deal-breaking there. Granted, I'm glossing over major problems and breakthroughs that will have to occur. But the engineering problems should be solvable. Super-sophisticated flying machines that locate resources to reproduce are not an abstract notion. I know the basic concept is practical because fragments of such machines - each one a miracle of nanotechnology - have to be scraped from the windshield of my car, periodically. Meanwhile, the tech to boost tiny spacecraft to a good fraction of the speed of light is in active development right now, with Breakthrough Starshot and NASA's Project Starlight. The hazards of high-speed intergalactic flight (gas, dust, and cosmic rays) are actually far less intense than the hazards of interstellar flight (also gas, dust and cosmic rays), but an intergalactic spacecraft is exposed to them for a lot more time - millions of years in a dormant 'coasting' stage of flight. It may be that more shielding will be required, and perhaps some periodic data scrubbing of the information payload. But there is nothing too exotic about that.

The biggest breakthroughs will come with the development of self-replicating machines, and artificial life. But those are not exactly new ideas either, and we're surrounded by an endless supply of proof of concept. These VNPs need not be massive, expensive things, or perfectly reliable machines. Small, cheap, and fallible is OK. Perhaps a small fraction of them will be lucky enough to survive an intergalactic journey and happen upon the right kind of world to land and reproduce. That's enough to enable exponential reproduction, which will, in time, take control of worlds, as numerous as the sand. Once the process really gets going, the geometry becomes simple - the net effect is an expanding sphere that overtakes and saturates millions of galaxies, over the course of cosmic time.

Since geometry is simplest at the largest scale (owing to a Universe that is basically the same in every direction), the easiest part of the story is the extremely long-term behaviour. If you launch today, the rate at which galaxies are consumed by life steadily increases (as the sphere of influence continues to grow) until about 19 billion years from now, when the Universe is a little over twice its current age. After that, galaxies are overtaken more and more slowly. And at some point, in the very distant future, the process ends. No matter how fast or how long it continues to expand, our sphere will never overtake another galaxy. If the probes can move truly fast - close to the speed of light - that last galaxy is about 16 billion light-years away, as of today (it will be much further away, by the time we reach it). Our telescopes can see galaxies further still, but they are not for us.

Directions : The passage below is accompanied by four questions. Based on the passage, choose the best answer for each question.

Sometime late this century, someone will push a button, unleashing a life force on the cosmos. Within 1,000 years, every star you can see at night will host intelligent life. In less than a million years, that life will saturate the entire Milky Way; in 20 million years - the local group of galaxies. In the fullness of cosmic time, thousands of superclusters of galaxies will be saturated in a forever-expanding sphere of influence, centred on Earth. This won't require exotic physics. The basic ingredients have been understood since the 1960s. What's needed is an automated spacecraft that can locate worlds on which to land, build infrastructure, and eventually make copies of itself. The copies are then sent forth to do likewise - in other words, they are von Neumann probes (VNPs). We'll stipulate a very fast one, travelling at a respectable fraction of the speed of light, with an extremely long range (able to coast between galaxies) and carrying an enormous trove of information. Ambitious, yes, but there's nothing deal-breaking there. Granted, I'm glossing over major problems and breakthroughs that will have to occur. But the engineering problems should be solvable. Super-sophisticated flying machines that locate resources to reproduce are not an abstract notion. I know the basic concept is practical because fragments of such machines - each one a miracle of nanotechnology - have to be scraped from the windshield of my car, periodically. Meanwhile, the tech to boost tiny spacecraft to a good fraction of the speed of light is in active development right now, with Breakthrough Starshot and NASA's Project Starlight. The hazards of high-speed intergalactic flight (gas, dust, and cosmic rays) are actually far less intense than the hazards of interstellar flight (also gas, dust and cosmic rays), but an intergalactic spacecraft is exposed to them for a lot more time - millions of years in a dormant 'coasting' stage of flight. It may be that more shielding will be required, and perhaps some periodic data scrubbing of the information payload. But there is nothing too exotic about that.

The biggest breakthroughs will come with the development of self-replicating machines, and artificial life. But those are not exactly new ideas either, and we're surrounded by an endless supply of proof of concept. These VNPs need not be massive, expensive things, or perfectly reliable machines. Small, cheap, and fallible is OK. Perhaps a small fraction of them will be lucky enough to survive an intergalactic journey and happen upon the right kind of world to land and reproduce. That's enough to enable exponential reproduction, which will, in time, take control of worlds, as numerous as the sand. Once the process really gets going, the geometry becomes simple - the net effect is an expanding sphere that overtakes and saturates millions of galaxies, over the course of cosmic time.

Since geometry is simplest at the largest scale (owing to a Universe that is basically the same in every direction), the easiest part of the story is the extremely long-term behaviour. If you launch today, the rate at which galaxies are consumed by life steadily increases (as the sphere of influence continues to grow) until about 19 billion years from now, when the Universe is a little over twice its current age. After that, galaxies are overtaken more and more slowly. And at some point, in the very distant future, the process ends. No matter how fast or how long it continues to expand, our sphere will never overtake another galaxy. If the probes can move truly fast - close to the speed of light - that last galaxy is about 16 billion light-years away, as of today (it will be much further away, by the time we reach it). Our telescopes can see galaxies further still, but they are not for us.

Directions : The passage below is accompanied by four questions. Based on the passage, choose the best answer for each question.

Sometime late this century, someone will push a button, unleashing a life force on the cosmos. Within 1,000 years, every star you can see at night will host intelligent life. In less than a million years, that life will saturate the entire Milky Way; in 20 million years - the local group of galaxies. In the fullness of cosmic time, thousands of superclusters of galaxies will be saturated in a forever-expanding sphere of influence, centred on Earth. This won't require exotic physics. The basic ingredients have been understood since the 1960s. What's needed is an automated spacecraft that can locate worlds on which to land, build infrastructure, and eventually make copies of itself. The copies are then sent forth to do likewise - in other words, they are von Neumann probes (VNPs). We'll stipulate a very fast one, travelling at a respectable fraction of the speed of light, with an extremely long range (able to coast between galaxies) and carrying an enormous trove of information. Ambitious, yes, but there's nothing deal-breaking there. Granted, I'm glossing over major problems and breakthroughs that will have to occur. But the engineering problems should be solvable. Super-sophisticated flying machines that locate resources to reproduce are not an abstract notion. I know the basic concept is practical because fragments of such machines - each one a miracle of nanotechnology - have to be scraped from the windshield of my car, periodically. Meanwhile, the tech to boost tiny spacecraft to a good fraction of the speed of light is in active development right now, with Breakthrough Starshot and NASA's Project Starlight. The hazards of high-speed intergalactic flight (gas, dust, and cosmic rays) are actually far less intense than the hazards of interstellar flight (also gas, dust and cosmic rays), but an intergalactic spacecraft is exposed to them for a lot more time - millions of years in a dormant 'coasting' stage of flight. It may be that more shielding will be required, and perhaps some periodic data scrubbing of the information payload. But there is nothing too exotic about that.

The biggest breakthroughs will come with the development of self-replicating machines, and artificial life. But those are not exactly new ideas either, and we're surrounded by an endless supply of proof of concept. These VNPs need not be massive, expensive things, or perfectly reliable machines. Small, cheap, and fallible is OK. Perhaps a small fraction of them will be lucky enough to survive an intergalactic journey and happen upon the right kind of world to land and reproduce. That's enough to enable exponential reproduction, which will, in time, take control of worlds, as numerous as the sand. Once the process really gets going, the geometry becomes simple - the net effect is an expanding sphere that overtakes and saturates millions of galaxies, over the course of cosmic time.

Since geometry is simplest at the largest scale (owing to a Universe that is basically the same in every direction), the easiest part of the story is the extremely long-term behaviour. If you launch today, the rate at which galaxies are consumed by life steadily increases (as the sphere of influence continues to grow) until about 19 billion years from now, when the Universe is a little over twice its current age. After that, galaxies are overtaken more and more slowly. And at some point, in the very distant future, the process ends. No matter how fast or how long it continues to expand, our sphere will never overtake another galaxy. If the probes can move truly fast - close to the speed of light - that last galaxy is about 16 billion light-years away, as of today (it will be much further away, by the time we reach it). Our telescopes can see galaxies further still, but they are not for us.

Directions : The passage below is accompanied by four questions. Based on the passage, choose the best answer for each question.

Sometime late this century, someone will push a button, unleashing a life force on the cosmos. Within 1,000 years, every star you can see at night will host intelligent life. In less than a million years, that life will saturate the entire Milky Way; in 20 million years - the local group of galaxies. In the fullness of cosmic time, thousands of superclusters of galaxies will be saturated in a forever-expanding sphere of influence, centred on Earth. This won't require exotic physics. The basic ingredients have been understood since the 1960s. What's needed is an automated spacecraft that can locate worlds on which to land, build infrastructure, and eventually make copies of itself. The copies are then sent forth to do likewise - in other words, they are von Neumann probes (VNPs). We'll stipulate a very fast one, travelling at a respectable fraction of the speed of light, with an extremely long range (able to coast between galaxies) and carrying an enormous trove of information. Ambitious, yes, but there's nothing deal-breaking there. Granted, I'm glossing over major problems and breakthroughs that will have to occur. But the engineering problems should be solvable. Super-sophisticated flying machines that locate resources to reproduce are not an abstract notion. I know the basic concept is practical because fragments of such machines - each one a miracle of nanotechnology - have to be scraped from the windshield of my car, periodically. Meanwhile, the tech to boost tiny spacecraft to a good fraction of the speed of light is in active development right now, with Breakthrough Starshot and NASA's Project Starlight. The hazards of high-speed intergalactic flight (gas, dust, and cosmic rays) are actually far less intense than the hazards of interstellar flight (also gas, dust and cosmic rays), but an intergalactic spacecraft is exposed to them for a lot more time - millions of years in a dormant 'coasting' stage of flight. It may be that more shielding will be required, and perhaps some periodic data scrubbing of the information payload. But there is nothing too exotic about that.

The biggest breakthroughs will come with the development of self-replicating machines, and artificial life. But those are not exactly new ideas either, and we're surrounded by an endless supply of proof of concept. These VNPs need not be massive, expensive things, or perfectly reliable machines. Small, cheap, and fallible is OK. Perhaps a small fraction of them will be lucky enough to survive an intergalactic journey and happen upon the right kind of world to land and reproduce. That's enough to enable exponential reproduction, which will, in time, take control of worlds, as numerous as the sand. Once the process really gets going, the geometry becomes simple - the net effect is an expanding sphere that overtakes and saturates millions of galaxies, over the course of cosmic time.

Since geometry is simplest at the largest scale (owing to a Universe that is basically the same in every direction), the easiest part of the story is the extremely long-term behaviour. If you launch today, the rate at which galaxies are consumed by life steadily increases (as the sphere of influence continues to grow) until about 19 billion years from now, when the Universe is a little over twice its current age. After that, galaxies are overtaken more and more slowly. And at some point, in the very distant future, the process ends. No matter how fast or how long it continues to expand, our sphere will never overtake another galaxy. If the probes can move truly fast - close to the speed of light - that last galaxy is about 16 billion light-years away, as of today (it will be much further away, by the time we reach it). Our telescopes can see galaxies further still, but they are not for us.

Directions : The passage below is accompanied by four questions. Based on the passage, choose the best answer for each question.

The conceptual roots of our current notions regarding linguistic relativity can be traced back to the Enlightenment era, spanning from the late 17th to the 18th century. During this period, discussions often revolved around the 'genius' of a language, a term initially coined in French as le génie de la langue. Its usage was diverse and at times ambiguous. A significant formulation emerged in 1772 with the Treatise on the Origin of Language by German philosopher and poet Johann Gottfried von Herder (1744-1803). Herder challenged contemporaries who linked the origins of human language to animal cries, asserting a fundamental distinction between human and animal communication. He argued that human language relies on the unique human capacity for 'reflection,' our ability to recognize and contemplate our own thoughts. According to Herder, when forming words, we reflect on the properties of the things they denote and choose the most significant ones. Different linguistic communities may emphasize different properties, resulting in each language encapsulating a slightly different perspective on the world. Over generations, linguistic differences accumulate, making languages and their associated worldviews increasingly distinct. To comprehend the distinct perspective of each language, one must trace the etymological origins of words.

This Herderian perspective was further developed in the early 19th century by Wilhelm von Humboldt (1767-1835), who intricately woven it into a comprehensive account of language and literature. Humboldt endorsed a form of linguistic determinism, suggesting that language not only reflects a particular worldview but actively contributes to shaping it. He argued for a dialectical relationship between language and thought, emphasizing an ongoing feedback loop where thoughts shape words and words shape thoughts. Humboldt prioritized the study of grammatical structures over individual words, viewing grammar and vocabulary as merely the 'dead skeleton' of a language. To grasp the true character of a language, one must appreciate its literature, examining how the language is used by its most eloquent speakers and writers.

Despite Humboldt's emphasis on exploring the vitality of language through literature, his 19th-century successors focused more on devising classifications of languages based on their grammatical features. The goal often centred around identifying the 'inner form' of each language, a term Humboldt used to denote the underlying structure and organization of a language in contrast to its 'outer form,' which encompasses externally perceptible features such as words, grammar, and sound systems. Humboldt's concept of inner form continued the Enlightenment's interest in the genius of a language, while the outer form involved more detailed aspects like noun declensions, verb conjugations, and sound substitutions.

Directions : The passage below is accompanied by four questions. Based on the passage, choose the best answer for each question.

The conceptual roots of our current notions regarding linguistic relativity can be traced back to the Enlightenment era, spanning from the late 17th to the 18th century. During this period, discussions often revolved around the 'genius' of a language, a term initially coined in French as le génie de la langue. Its usage was diverse and at times ambiguous. A significant formulation emerged in 1772 with the Treatise on the Origin of Language by German philosopher and poet Johann Gottfried von Herder (1744-1803). Herder challenged contemporaries who linked the origins of human language to animal cries, asserting a fundamental distinction between human and animal communication. He argued that human language relies on the unique human capacity for 'reflection,' our ability to recognize and contemplate our own thoughts. According to Herder, when forming words, we reflect on the properties of the things they denote and choose the most significant ones. Different linguistic communities may emphasize different properties, resulting in each language encapsulating a slightly different perspective on the world. Over generations, linguistic differences accumulate, making languages and their associated worldviews increasingly distinct. To comprehend the distinct perspective of each language, one must trace the etymological origins of words.

This Herderian perspective was further developed in the early 19th century by Wilhelm von Humboldt (1767-1835), who intricately woven it into a comprehensive account of language and literature. Humboldt endorsed a form of linguistic determinism, suggesting that language not only reflects a particular worldview but actively contributes to shaping it. He argued for a dialectical relationship between language and thought, emphasizing an ongoing feedback loop where thoughts shape words and words shape thoughts. Humboldt prioritized the study of grammatical structures over individual words, viewing grammar and vocabulary as merely the 'dead skeleton' of a language. To grasp the true character of a language, one must appreciate its literature, examining how the language is used by its most eloquent speakers and writers.

Despite Humboldt's emphasis on exploring the vitality of language through literature, his 19th-century successors focused more on devising classifications of languages based on their grammatical features. The goal often centred around identifying the 'inner form' of each language, a term Humboldt used to denote the underlying structure and organization of a language in contrast to its 'outer form,' which encompasses externally perceptible features such as words, grammar, and sound systems. Humboldt's concept of inner form continued the Enlightenment's interest in the genius of a language, while the outer form involved more detailed aspects like noun declensions, verb conjugations, and sound substitutions.

Directions : The passage below is accompanied by four questions. Based on the passage, choose the best answer for each question.

The conceptual roots of our current notions regarding linguistic relativity can be traced back to the Enlightenment era, spanning from the late 17th to the 18th century. During this period, discussions often revolved around the 'genius' of a language, a term initially coined in French as le génie de la langue. Its usage was diverse and at times ambiguous. A significant formulation emerged in 1772 with the Treatise on the Origin of Language by German philosopher and poet Johann Gottfried von Herder (1744-1803). Herder challenged contemporaries who linked the origins of human language to animal cries, asserting a fundamental distinction between human and animal communication. He argued that human language relies on the unique human capacity for 'reflection,' our ability to recognize and contemplate our own thoughts. According to Herder, when forming words, we reflect on the properties of the things they denote and choose the most significant ones. Different linguistic communities may emphasize different properties, resulting in each language encapsulating a slightly different perspective on the world. Over generations, linguistic differences accumulate, making languages and their associated worldviews increasingly distinct. To comprehend the distinct perspective of each language, one must trace the etymological origins of words.

This Herderian perspective was further developed in the early 19th century by Wilhelm von Humboldt (1767-1835), who intricately woven it into a comprehensive account of language and literature. Humboldt endorsed a form of linguistic determinism, suggesting that language not only reflects a particular worldview but actively contributes to shaping it. He argued for a dialectical relationship between language and thought, emphasizing an ongoing feedback loop where thoughts shape words and words shape thoughts. Humboldt prioritized the study of grammatical structures over individual words, viewing grammar and vocabulary as merely the 'dead skeleton' of a language. To grasp the true character of a language, one must appreciate its literature, examining how the language is used by its most eloquent speakers and writers.

Despite Humboldt's emphasis on exploring the vitality of language through literature, his 19th-century successors focused more on devising classifications of languages based on their grammatical features. The goal often centred around identifying the 'inner form' of each language, a term Humboldt used to denote the underlying structure and organization of a language in contrast to its 'outer form,' which encompasses externally perceptible features such as words, grammar, and sound systems. Humboldt's concept of inner form continued the Enlightenment's interest in the genius of a language, while the outer form involved more detailed aspects like noun declensions, verb conjugations, and sound substitutions.

Directions : The passage below is accompanied by four questions. Based on the passage, choose the best answer for each question.

The conceptual roots of our current notions regarding linguistic relativity can be traced back to the Enlightenment era, spanning from the late 17th to the 18th century. During this period, discussions often revolved around the 'genius' of a language, a term initially coined in French as le génie de la langue. Its usage was diverse and at times ambiguous. A significant formulation emerged in 1772 with the Treatise on the Origin of Language by German philosopher and poet Johann Gottfried von Herder (1744-1803). Herder challenged contemporaries who linked the origins of human language to animal cries, asserting a fundamental distinction between human and animal communication. He argued that human language relies on the unique human capacity for 'reflection,' our ability to recognize and contemplate our own thoughts. According to Herder, when forming words, we reflect on the properties of the things they denote and choose the most significant ones. Different linguistic communities may emphasize different properties, resulting in each language encapsulating a slightly different perspective on the world. Over generations, linguistic differences accumulate, making languages and their associated worldviews increasingly distinct. To comprehend the distinct perspective of each language, one must trace the etymological origins of words.

This Herderian perspective was further developed in the early 19th century by Wilhelm von Humboldt (1767-1835), who intricately woven it into a comprehensive account of language and literature. Humboldt endorsed a form of linguistic determinism, suggesting that language not only reflects a particular worldview but actively contributes to shaping it. He argued for a dialectical relationship between language and thought, emphasizing an ongoing feedback loop where thoughts shape words and words shape thoughts. Humboldt prioritized the study of grammatical structures over individual words, viewing grammar and vocabulary as merely the 'dead skeleton' of a language. To grasp the true character of a language, one must appreciate its literature, examining how the language is used by its most eloquent speakers and writers.

Despite Humboldt's emphasis on exploring the vitality of language through literature, his 19th-century successors focused more on devising classifications of languages based on their grammatical features. The goal often centred around identifying the 'inner form' of each language, a term Humboldt used to denote the underlying structure and organization of a language in contrast to its 'outer form,' which encompasses externally perceptible features such as words, grammar, and sound systems. Humboldt's concept of inner form continued the Enlightenment's interest in the genius of a language, while the outer form involved more detailed aspects like noun declensions, verb conjugations, and sound substitutions.

Directions :The passage below is accompanied by four questions. Based on the passage, choose the best answer for each question.

In the contemporary landscape, the notion of the unconscious is so deeply ingrained in our understanding of ourselves that it is challenging to envision our existence without it. However, tracing back the trajectory of intellectual history, we find that between the years 1700 and 1900, the notion of the unconscious germinated as a truly groundbreaking idea. The term "unconscious" underwent a metamorphosis, evolving from a nebulous construct into a well-defined concept. Its journey involved a rupture from conventional language, where it initially existed to encapsulate the ephemeral ideas and ever-shifting conceptions of multiple generations. The roots of the concept of the unconscious can be traced back to the 18th century, a period marked by intellectual ferment and the quest for a deeper understanding of the human mind. Enlightenment thinkers, such as René Descartes and John Locke, laid the groundwork for a shift in focus from metaphysical speculation to empirical observation and reason. This paradigm shift created a fertile ground for the exploration of the human psyche. As the 18th century unfolded, the Cartesian duality that separated the mind and body began to erode. Philosophers and scientists started to delve into the interconnectedness of these realms, challenging traditional views on consciousness. The concept of the unconscious started to take root, representing a realm of mental activity beyond conscious awareness.

The 19th century witnessed a surge in interest and speculation about the unconscious. Sigmund Freud, often regarded as the father of psychoanalysis, played a pivotal role in shaping the concept into a systematic framework. Freud's exploration of the unconscious mind, as manifested in dreams, slips of the tongue, and repressed memories, marked a revolutionary departure from previous psychological theories. He argued that much of human behaviour is driven by unconscious desires and conflicts that operate beneath the surface of conscious awareness. Freud's ideas found resonance not only in the field of psychology but also in literature and the arts. Writers such as Edgar Allan Poe and Fyodor Dostoevsky explored the depths of the human psyche, delving into the darker aspects of the unconscious mind. Their works, marked by psychological complexity and introspection, reflected the zeitgeist of a society grappling with the profound implications of the unconscious on human behaviour.

The Industrial Revolution and societal changes in the 19th century provided a backdrop for the growing awareness of the unconscious. The rapid pace of technological advancement and the shifting social structures prompted thinkers to contemplate the impact of these changes on the human psyche. The unconscious became a focal point for understanding the anxieties, desires, and conflicts that emerged in response to a rapidly transforming world. The term "unconscious" underwent semantic evolution during this period. It transformed from a vague, catch-all term for elusive ideas into a concept that demanded rigorous examination. Scholars and thinkers across disciplines engaged in a collective effort to define and delineate the boundaries of the unconscious. The concept ceased to be a mere linguistic container for fleeting thoughts and instead became a cornerstone of psychological inquiry.

Directions :The passage below is accompanied by four questions. Based on the passage, choose the best answer for each question.

In the contemporary landscape, the notion of the unconscious is so deeply ingrained in our understanding of ourselves that it is challenging to envision our existence without it. However, tracing back the trajectory of intellectual history, we find that between the years 1700 and 1900, the notion of the unconscious germinated as a truly groundbreaking idea. The term "unconscious" underwent a metamorphosis, evolving from a nebulous construct into a well-defined concept. Its journey involved a rupture from conventional language, where it initially existed to encapsulate the ephemeral ideas and ever-shifting conceptions of multiple generations. The roots of the concept of the unconscious can be traced back to the 18th century, a period marked by intellectual ferment and the quest for a deeper understanding of the human mind. Enlightenment thinkers, such as René Descartes and John Locke, laid the groundwork for a shift in focus from metaphysical speculation to empirical observation and reason. This paradigm shift created a fertile ground for the exploration of the human psyche. As the 18th century unfolded, the Cartesian duality that separated the mind and body began to erode. Philosophers and scientists started to delve into the interconnectedness of these realms, challenging traditional views on consciousness. The concept of the unconscious started to take root, representing a realm of mental activity beyond conscious awareness.

The 19th century witnessed a surge in interest and speculation about the unconscious. Sigmund Freud, often regarded as the father of psychoanalysis, played a pivotal role in shaping the concept into a systematic framework. Freud's exploration of the unconscious mind, as manifested in dreams, slips of the tongue, and repressed memories, marked a revolutionary departure from previous psychological theories. He argued that much of human behaviour is driven by unconscious desires and conflicts that operate beneath the surface of conscious awareness. Freud's ideas found resonance not only in the field of psychology but also in literature and the arts. Writers such as Edgar Allan Poe and Fyodor Dostoevsky explored the depths of the human psyche, delving into the darker aspects of the unconscious mind. Their works, marked by psychological complexity and introspection, reflected the zeitgeist of a society grappling with the profound implications of the unconscious on human behaviour.

The Industrial Revolution and societal changes in the 19th century provided a backdrop for the growing awareness of the unconscious. The rapid pace of technological advancement and the shifting social structures prompted thinkers to contemplate the impact of these changes on the human psyche. The unconscious became a focal point for understanding the anxieties, desires, and conflicts that emerged in response to a rapidly transforming world. The term "unconscious" underwent semantic evolution during this period. It transformed from a vague, catch-all term for elusive ideas into a concept that demanded rigorous examination. Scholars and thinkers across disciplines engaged in a collective effort to define and delineate the boundaries of the unconscious. The concept ceased to be a mere linguistic container for fleeting thoughts and instead became a cornerstone of psychological inquiry.