1. (2020·临汾模拟) 阅读理解

    Curiosity is what drives us to keep learning, keep trying, keep pushing forward. But how does one generate (产生) curiosity, in oneself or others? George Loewenstein, a professor of psychology at Carnegie Mellon University, offered an answer in the classic1994 paper, "The Psychology of Curiosity."

    Curiosity arises, Loewenstein wrote, "when attention becomes focused on a gap in one's knowledge. Such information gaps produce the feeling of deprivation (匮乏) labeled curiosity. The curious individual is motivated to obtain the missing information to reduce the feeling of deprivation." Loewenstein's theory helps explain why curiosity is such a force: it's not only a mental state but also an emotion, a powerful feeling that drives us forward.

    Scientist Daniel Willingham notes that teachers are often "so eager to get to the answer that we do not devote enough time to developing the question." Yet it's the question that stimulates (刺激) curiosity; being told an answer stops curiosity before it can even get going.

    In his 1994 paper, George Loewenstein noted that curiosity requires some basic knowledge. We're not curious about something we know absolutely nothing about. But as soon as we know even a little bit, our curiosity is aroused and we want to learn more. In fact, research shows that curiosity increases with knowledge: the more we know, the more we want to know. To get this process started, Loewenstein suggests, take steps with some interesting but incomplete information.

    Language teachers have long used communication in exercises that open an information gap and then require learners to communicate with each other in order to fill it. For example, one student might be given a series of pictures for the beginning of the story, while the student's partner is given a series of pictures showing how that same story ends. Only by speaking with each other (in the foreign language they are learning, of course) can the students fill in each others' information gaps.

A machine can now not only beat you at chess, it can also outperform you in debate. Last week, in a public debate in San Francisco, a software program called Project Debater beat its human opponents, including Noa Ovadia, Israel's former national debating champion.

Brilliant though it is, Project Debater has some weaknesses. It takes sentences from its library of documents and prebuilt arguments and strings them together. This can lead to the kinds of errors no human would make. Such wrinkles will no doubt be ironed out, yet they also point to a fundamental problem. As Kristian Hammond, professor of electrical engineering and computer science at Northwestern University, put it: "There's never a stage at which the system knows what it's talking about."

What Hammond is referring to is the question of meaning, and meaning is central to what distinguishes the least intelligent of humans from the most intelligent of machines. A computer works with symbols. Its program specifies a set of rules to transform one string of symbols into another. But it does not specify what those symbols mean. Indeed, to a computer, meaning is irrelevant. Humans, in thinking, talking, reading and writing, also work with symbols. But for humans, meaning is everything. When we communicate, we communicate meaning. What matters is not just the outside of a string of symbols, but the inside too, not just how they are arranged but what they mean.

Meaning emerges through a process of social interaction, not of computation, interaction that shapes the content of the symbols in our heads. The rules that assign meaning lie not just inside our heads, but also outside, in society, in social memory, social conventions and social relations. It is this that distinguishes humans from machines. And that's why, however astonishing Project Debater may seem, the tradition that began with Socrates and Confucius will not end with artificial intelligence.

Human speech contains more than 2, 000 different sounds, from the common "m" and "a" to the rare clicks of some southern African languages. But why are certain sounds more common than others? A ground-breaking, five-year study shows that diet-related changes in human bite led to new speech sounds that are now found in half the world's languages.

More than 30 years ago, the scholar Charles Hockett noted that speech sounds called labiodentals, such as "f" and "v", were more common in the languages of societies that ate softer foods. Now a team of researchers led by Damián Blasi at the University of Zurich, Switzerland, has found how and why this trend arose.

They discovered that the upper and lower front teeth of ancient human adults were aligned (对齐), making it hard to produce labiodentals, which are formed by touching the lower lip to the upper teeth. Later, our jaws changed to an overbite structure(结构), making it easier to produce such sounds.

The team showed that this change in bite was connected with the development of agriculture in the Neolithic period. Food became easier to chew at this point. The jawbone didn't have to do as much work and so didn't grow to be so large.

Analyses of a language database also confirmed that there was a global change in the sound of world languages after the Neolithic age, with the use of "f" and "v" increasing remarkably during the last few thousand years. These sounds are still not found in the languages of many hunter-gatherer people today.

This research overturns the popular view that all human speech sounds were present when human beings evolved around 300, 000 years ago. "The set of speech sounds we use has not necessarily remained stable since the appearance of human beings, but rather the huge variety of speech sounds that we find today is the product of a complex interplay of things like biological change and cultural evolution," said Steven Moran, a member of the research team.

As we age, even if we're healthy, the heart just isn't as efficient in processing oxygen as it used to be. In most people the first signs show up in their 50s or early 60s. And among people who don't exercise, the changes can start even sooner.

"Think of a rubber band. In the beginning, it is flexible, but put it in a drawer for 20 years and it will become dry and easily broken," says Dr. Ben Levine, a heart specialist at the University of Texas. That's what happens to the heart. Fortunately for those in midlife, Levine is finding that even if you haven't been an enthusiastic exerciser, getting in shape now may help improve your aging heart.

Levine and his research team selected volunteers aged between 45 and 64 who did not exercise much but were otherwise healthy. Participants were randomly divided into two groups. The first group participated in a program of nonaerobic (无氧) exercise—balance training and weight training—three times a week. The second group did high-intensity aerobic exercise under the guidance of a trainer for four or more days a week. After two years, the second group saw remarkable improvements in heart health.

"We took these 50-year-old hearts and turned the clock back to 30-or 35-year-old hearts," says Levine. "And the reason they got so much stronger and fitter was that their hearts could now fill a lot better and pump (泵送) a lot more blood during exercise." But the hearts of those who participated in less intense exercise didn't change, he says.

"The sweet spot in life to start exercising, if you haven't already, is in late middle age when the heart still has flexibility," Levine says. "We put healthy 70-year-olds through a yearlong exercise training program, and nothing happened to them at all."

Dr. Nieca Goldberg, a spokeswoman for the American Heart Association, says Levine's findings are a great start. But the study was small and needs to be repeated with far larger groups of people to determine exactly which aspects of an exercise routine make the biggest difference.