Cambridge 19 — Test 1 đến Test 4

In 2016, the British professional tennis player Andy Murray was ranked as the world's number one. It was an incredible achievement by any standard - made even more remarkable by the fact that he did this during a period considered to be one of the strongest in the sport's history, competing against the likes of Rafael Nadal, Roger Federer and Novak Djokovic, to name just a few. Yet five years previously, he had been regarded as a talented outsider who entered but never won the major tournaments.

Of the changes that account for this transformation, one was visible and widely publicised: in 2011, Murray invited former number one player Ivan Lendl onto his coaching team - a valuable addition that had a visible impact on the player's playing style. Another change was so subtle as to pass more or less unnoticed. Like many players, Murray has long preferred a racket that consists of two types of string: one for the mains (verticals) and another for the crosses (horizontals). While he continued to use natural string in the crosses, in 2012 he switched to a synthetic string for the mains. A small change, perhaps, but its importance should not be underestimated.

The modification that Murray made is just one of a number of options available to players looking to tweak their rackets in order to improve their games. "Touring professionals have their rackets customised to their specific needs," says Colin Triplow, a UK-based professional racket stringer. "It's a highly important part of performance maximisation. "Consequently, the specific rackets used by the world's elite are not actually readily available to the public; rather, each racket is individually made to suit the player who uses it. Take the US professional tennis players Mike and Bob Bryan, for example: "We're very particular with our racket specifications," they say. "All our rackets are sent from our manufacturer to Tampa, Florida, where our frames go through a. . . thorough customisation process. "They explain how they have adjusted not only racket length, but even experimented with different kinds of paint. The rackets they use now weigh more than the average model and also have a denser string pattern (i. e. more crosses and mains).

The primary reason for these modifications is simple: as the line between winning and losing becomes thinner and thinner, even these slight changes become more and more important. As a result, players and their teams are becoming increasingly creative with the modifications to their rackets as they look to maximise their competitive advantage.

Racket modifications mainly date back to the 1970s, when the amateur German tennis player Werner Fischer started playing with the so-called spaghetti-strung racket. It created a string bed that generated so much topspin that it was quickly banned by the International Tennis Federation. However, within a decade or two, racket modification became a regularity. Today it is, in many ways, an aspect of the game that is equal in significance to nutrition or training.

Modifications can be divided into two categories: those to the string bed and those to the racket frame. The former is far more common than the latter: the choice of the strings and the tension with which they are installed is something that nearly all professional players experiment with. They will continually change it depending on various factors including the court surface, climatic conditions, and game styles. Some will even change it depending on how they feel at the time.

At one time, all tennis rackets were strung with natural gut made from the outer layer of sheep or cow intestines. This all changed in the early 1990s with the development of synthetic strings that were cheaper and more durable. They are made from three materials: nylon (relatively durable and affordable), Kevlar (too stiff to be used alone) or co-polyester (polyester combined with additives that enhance its performance). Even so, many professional players continue to use a "hybrid set-up", where a combination of both synthetic and natural strings are used.

Of the synthetics, co-polyester is by far the most widely used. It's a perfect fit for the style of tennis now played, where players tend to battle it out from the back of the court rather than coming to the net. Studies indicate that the average spin from a co-polyester string is 25% greater than that from natural string or other synthetics. In a sense, the development of co-polyester strings has revolutionised the game.

However, many players go beyond these basic adjustments to the strings and make changes to the racket frame itself. For example, much of the serving power of US professional player Pete Sampras was attributed to the addition of four to five lead weights onto his rackets, and today many professionals have the weight adjusted during the manufacturing process.

Other changes to the frame involve the handle. Players have individual preferences for the shape of the handle and some will have the handle of one racket moulded onto the frame of a different racket. Other players make different changes. The professional Portuguese player Gonçalo Oliveira replaced the original grips of his rackets with something thinner because they had previously felt uncomfortable to hold.

Racket customisation and modification have pushed the standards of the game to greater levels that few could have anticipated in the days of natural strings and heavy, wooden frames, and it's exciting to see what further developments there will be in the future.

In the first and second millennia BCE, pirates sailed around the Mediterranean, attacking ships and avoiding pursuers

A. When one mentions pirates, an image springs to most people's minds of a crew of misfits, daredevils and adventurers in command of a tall sailing ship in the Caribbean Sea. Yet from the first to the third millennium BCE, thousands of years before these swashbucklers began spreading fear across the Caribbean, pirates prowled the Mediterranean, raiding merchant ships and threatening vital trade routes. However, despite all efforts and the might of various ancient states, piracy could not be stopped. The situation remained unchanged for thousands of years. Only when the pirates directly threatened the interests of ancient Rome did the Roman Republic organise a massive fleet to eliminate piracy. Under the command of the Roman general Pompey, Rome eradicated piracy, transforming the Mediterranean into "Mare Nostrum" (Our Sea).

B. Although piracy in the Mediterranean is first recorded in ancient Egypt during the reign of Pharaoh Amenhotep III (c 1390-1353 BCE), it is reasonable to assume it predated this powerful civilisation. This is partly due to the great importance the Mediterranean held at this time, and partly due to its geography. While the Mediterranean region is predominantly fertile, some parts are rugged and hilly, even mountainous. In the ancient times, the inhabitants of these areas relied heavily on marine resources, including fish and salt. Most had their own boats, possessed good seafaring skills, and unsurpassed knowledge of the local coastline and sailing routes. Thus, it is not surprising that during hardships, these men turned to piracy. Geography itself further benefited the pirates, with the numerous coves along the coast providing places for them to hide their boats and strike undetected. Before the invention of ocean-going caravels* in the 15th century, ships could not easily cross long distances over open water. Thus, in the ancient world most were restricted to a few well-known navigable routes that followed the coastline. Caught in a trap, a slow merchant ship laden with goods had no other option but to surrender. In addition, knowledge of the local area helped the pirates to avoid retaliation once a state fleet arrived.

C. One should also add that it was not unknown in the first and second millennia BCE for governments to resort to pirates' services, especially during wartime, employing their skills and numbers against their opponents. A pirate fleet would serve in the first wave of attack, preparing the way for the navy. Some of the regions were known for providing safe harbours to pirates, who, in return, boosted the local economy.

D. The first known record of a named group of Mediterranean pirates, made during the rule of ancient Egyptian Pharaoh Akhenaten (c 1353-1336 BCE), was in the Amarna Letters. These were extracts of diplomatic correspondence between the pharaoh and his allies, and covered many pressing issues, including piracy. It seems the pharaoh was troubled by two distinct pirate groups, the Lukka and the Sherden. Despite the Egyptian fleet's best efforts, the pirates continued to cause substantial disruption to regional commerce. In the letters, the king of Alashiya (modern Cyprus) rejected Akhenaten's claims of a connection with the Lukka (based in modern-day Turkey). The king assured Akhenaten he was prepared to punish any of his subjects involved in piracy.

E. The ancient Greek world's experience of piracy was different from that of Egyptian rulers. While Egypt's power was land-based, the ancient Greeks relied on the Mediterranean in almost all aspects of life, from trade to warfare. Interestingly, in his works the Iliad and the Odyssey, the ancient Greek writer Homer not only condones, but praises the lifestyle and actions of pirates. The opinion remained unchanged in the following centuries. The ancient Greek historian Thucydides, for instance, glorified pirates' daring attacks on ships or even cities. For Greeks, piracy was a part of everyday life. Even high-ranking members of the state were not beyond engaging in such activities. According to the Greek orator Demosthenes, in 355 BCE, Athenian ambassadors made a detour from their official travel to capture a ship sailing from Egypt, taking the wealth found onboard for themselves! The Greeks' liberal approach towards piracy does not mean they always tolerated it, but attempts to curtail piracy were hampered by the large number of pirates operating in the Mediterranean.

F. The rising power of ancient Rome required the Roman Republic to deal with piracy in the Mediterranean. While piracy was a serious issue for the Republic, Rome profited greatly from its existence. Pirate raids provided a steady source of slaves, essential for Rome's agriculture and mining industries. But this arrangement could work only while the pirates left Roman interests alone. Pirate attacks on grain ships, which were essential to Roman citizens, led to angry voices in the Senate, demanding punishment of the culprits. Rome, however, did nothing, further encouraging piracy. By the 1st century BCE, emboldened pirates kidnapped prominent Roman dignitaries, asking for a large ransom to be paid. Their most famous hostage was none other than Julius Caesar, captured in 75 BCE.

G. By now, Rome was well aware that pirates had outlived their usefulness. The time had come for concerted action. In 67 BCE, a new law granted Pompey vast funds to combat the Mediterranean menace. Taking personal command, Pompey divided the entire Mediterranean into 13 districts, assigning a fleet and commander to each. After cleansing one district of pirates, the fleet would join another in the next district. The process continued until the entire Mediterranean was free of pirates. Although thousands of pirates died at the hands of Pompey's troops, as a long-term solution to the problem, many more were offered land in fertile areas located far from the sea. Instead of a maritime menace, Rome got productive farmers that further boosted its economy.

Brian Southwell looks at how human brains verify information and discusses some of the challenges of battling widespread falsehoods

Misinformation - both deliberately promoted and accidentally shared - is perhaps an inevitable part of the world in which we live, but it is not a new problem. People likely have lied to one another for roughly as long as verbal communication has existed. Deceiving others can offer an apparent opportunity to gain strategic advantage, to motivate others to action, or even to protect interpersonal bonds. Moreover, people inadvertently have been sharing inaccurate information with one another for thousands of years.

However, we currently live in an era in which technology enables information to reach large audiences distributed across the globe, and thus the potential for immediate and widespread effects from misinformation now looms larger than in the past. Yet the means to correct misinformation might, over time, be found in those same patterns of mass communication and of the facilitated spread of information.

The main worry regarding misinformation is its potential to unduly influence attitudes and behavior, leading people to think and act differently than they would if they were correctly informed, as suggested by the research teams of Stephan Lewandowsky of the University of Bristol and Elizabeth Marsh of Duke University, among others. In other words, we worry that misinformation might lead people to hold misperceptions (or false beliefs) and that these misperceptions, especially when they occur among large groups of people, may have detrimental, downstream consequences for health, social harmony, and the political climate.

At least three observations related to misinformation in the contemporary mass-media environment warrant the attention of researchers, policy makers, and really everyone who watches television, listens to the radio, or reads information online. First of all, people who encounter misinformation tend to believe it, at least initially. Secondly, electronic and print media often do not block many types of misinformation before it appears in content available to large audiences. Thirdly, countering misinformation once it has enjoyed wide exposure can be a resource-intensive effort.

Knowing what happens when people initially encounter misinformation holds tremendous importance for estimating the potential for subsequent problems. Although it is fairly routine for individuals to come across information that is false, the question of exactly how - and when - we mentally label information as true or false has garnered philosophical debate. The dilemma is neatly summarized by a contrast between how the 17th-century philosophers René Descartes and Baruch Spinoza described human information engagement, with conflicting predictions that only recently have been empirically tested in robust ways. Descartes argued that a person only accepts or rejects information after considering its truth or falsehood; Spinoza argued that people accept all encountered information (or misinformation) by default and then subsequently verify or reject it through a separate cognitive process. In recent decades, empirical evidence from the research teams of Erik Asp of the University of Chicago and Daniel Gilbert at Harvard University, among others, has supported Spinoza's account: people appear to encode all new information as if it were true, even if only momentarily, and later tag the information as being either true or false, a pattern that seems consistent with the observation that mental resources for skepticism physically reside in a different part of the brain than the resources used in perceiving and encoding.

What about our second observation that misinformation often can appear in electronic or print media without being preemptively blocked? In support of this, one might consider the nature of regulatory structures in the United States: regulatory agencies here tend to focus on post hoc detection of broadcast information. Organizations such as the Food and Drug Administration (FDA) offer considerable monitoring and notification functions, but these roles typically do not involve preemptive censoring. The FDA oversees direct-to-consumer prescription drug advertising, for example, and has developed mechanisms such as the "Bad Ad" program, through which people can report advertising in apparent violation of FDA guidelines on drug risks. Such programs, although laudable and useful, do not keep false advertising off the airwaves. In addition, even misinformation that is successfully corrected can continue to affect attitudes.

This leads us to our third observation: a campaign to correct misinformation, even if rhetorically compelling, requires resources and planning to accomplish necessary reach and frequency. For corrective campaigns to be persuasive, audiences need to be able to comprehend them, which requires either effort to frame messages in ways that are accessible or effort to educate and sensitize audiences to the possibility of misinformation. That some audiences might be unaware of the potential for misinformation also suggests the utility of media literacy efforts as early as elementary school. Even with journalists and scholars pointing to the phenomenon of "fake news", people do not distinguish between demonstrably false stories and those based in fact when scanning and processing written information.

We live at a time when widespread misinformation is common. Yet at this time many people also are passionately developing potential solutions and remedies. The journey forward undoubtedly will be a long and arduous one. Future remedies will require not only continued theoretical consideration but also the development and maintenance of consistent monitoring tools - and a recognition among fellow members of society that claims which find prominence in the media that are insufficiently based in scientific consensus and social reality should be countered. Misinformation arises as a result of human fallibility and human information needs. To overcome the worst effects of the phenomenon, we will need coordinated efforts over time, rather than any singular one-time panacea we could hope to offer.

The Industrial Revolution began in Britain in the mid-1700s and by the 1830s and 1840s had spread to many other parts of the world, including the United States. In Britain, it was a period when a largely rural, agrarian* society was transformed into an industrialised, urban one. Goods that had once been crafted by hand started to be produced in mass quantities by machines in factories, thanks to the invention of steam power and the introduction of new machines and manufacturing techniques in textiles, iron-making and other industries.

The foundations of the Industrial Revolution date back to the early 1700s, when the English inventor Thomas Newcomen designed the first modern steam engine. Called the "atmospheric steam engine", Newcomen's invention was originally used to power machines that pumped water out of mines. In the 1760s, the Scottish engineer James Watt started to adapt one of Newcomen's models, and succeeded in making it far more efficient. Watt later worked with the English manufacturer Matthew Boulton to invent a new steam engine driven by both the forward and backward strokes of the piston, while the gear mechanism it was connected to produced rotary motion. It was a key innovation that would allow steam power to spread across British industries.

The demand for coal, which was a relatively cheap energy source, grew rapidly during the Industrial Revolution, as it was needed to run not only the factories used to produce manufactured goods, but also steam-powered transportation. In the early 1800s, the English engineer Richard Trevithick built a steam-powered locomotive, and by 1830 goods and passengers were being transported between the industrial centres of Manchester and Liverpool. In addition, steam-powered boats and ships were widely used to carry goods along Britain's canals as well as across the Atlantic.

Britain had produced textiles like wool, linen and cotton, for hundreds of years, but prior to the Industrial Revolution, the British textile business was a true "cottage industry", with the work performed in small workshops or even homes by individual spinners, weavers and dyers. Starting in the mid-1700s, innovations like the spinning jenny and the power loom made weaving cloth and spinning yarn and thread much easier. With these machines, relatively little labour was required to produce cloth, and the new, mechanised textile factories that opened around the country were quickly able to meet customer demand for cloth both at home and abroad.

The British iron industry also underwent major change as it adopted new innovations. Chief among the new techniques was the smelting of iron ore with coke (a material made by heating coal) instead of the traditional charcoal. This method was cheaper and produced metals that were of a higher quality, enabling Britain's iron and steel production to expand in response to demand created by the Napoleonic Wars (1803-15) and the expansion of the railways from the 1830s.

The latter part of the Industrial Revolution also saw key advances in communication methods, as people increasingly saw the need to communicate efficiently over long distances. In 1837, British inventors William Cooke and Charles Wheatstone patented the first commercial telegraphy system. In the 1830s and 1840s, Samuel Morse and other inventors worked on their own versions in the United States. Cooke and Wheatstone's system was soon used for railway signalling in the UK. As the speed of the new locomotives increased, it was essential to have a fast and effective means of avoiding collisions.

The impact of the Industrial Revolution on people's lives was immense. Although many people in Britain had begun moving to the cities from rural areas before the Industrial Revolution, this accelerated dramatically with industrialisation, as the rise of large factories turned smaller towns into major cities in just a few decades. This rapid urbanisation brought significant challenges, as overcrowded cities suffered from pollution and inadequate sanitation.

Although industrialisation increased the country's economic output overall and improved the standard of living for the middle and upper classes, many poor people continued to struggle. Factory workers had to work long hours in dangerous conditions for extremely low wages. These conditions along with the rapid pace of change fuelled opposition to industrialisation. A group of British workers who became known as "Luddites" were British weavers and textile workers who objected to the increased use of mechanised looms and knitting frames. Many had spent years learning their craft, and they feared that unskilled machine operators were robbing them of their livelihood. A few desperate weavers began breaking into factories and smashing textile machines. They called themselves Luddites after Ned Ludd, a young apprentice who was rumoured to have wrecked a textile machine in 1779.

The first major instances of machine breaking took place in 1811 in the city of Nottingham, and the practice soon spread across the country. Machine-breaking Luddites attacked and burned factories, and in some cases they even exchanged gunfire with company guards and soldiers. The workers wanted employers to stop installing new machinery, but the British government responded to the uprisings by making machine-breaking punishable by death. The unrest finally reached its peak in April 1812, when a few Luddites were shot during an attack on a mill near Huddersfield. In the days that followed, other Luddites were arrested, and dozens were hanged or transported to Australia. By 1813, the Luddite resistance had all but vanished.

A. It isn't easy being a professional athlete. Not only are the physical demands greater than most people could handle, athletes also face intense psychological pressure during competition. This is something that British tennis player Emma Raducanu wrote about on social media following her withdrawal from the 2021 Wimbledon tournament. Though the young player had been doing well in the tournament, she began having difficulty regulating her breathing and heart rate during a match, which she later attributed to "the accumulation of the excitement and the buzz".

B. For athletes, some level of performance stress is almost unavoidable. But there are many different factors that dictate just how people's minds and bodies respond to stressful events. Typically, stress is the result of an exchange between two factors: demands and resources. An athlete may feel stressed about an event if they feel the demands on them are greater than they can handle. These demands include the high level of physical and mental effort required to succeed, and also the athlete's concerns about the difficulty of the event, their chance of succeeding, and any potential dangers such as injury. Resources, on the other hand, are a person's ability to cope with these demands. These include factors such as the competitor's degree of confidence, how much they believe they can control the situation's outcome, and whether they're looking forward to the event or not.

C. Each new demand or change in circumstances affects whether a person responds positively or negatively to stress. Typically, the more resources a person feels they have in handling the situation, the more positive their stress response. This positive stress response is called a challenge state. But should the person feel there are too many demands placed on them, the more likely they are to experience a negative stress response - known as a threat state. Research shows that the challenge states lead to good performance, while threat states lead to poorer performance. So, in Emma Raducanu's case, a much larger audience, higher expectations and facing a more skilful opponent, may all have led her to feel there were greater demands being placed on her at Wimbledon - but she didn't have the resources to tackle them. This led to her experiencing a threat response.

D. Our challenge and threat responses essentially influence how our body responds to stressful situations, as both affect the production of adrenaline and cortisol - also known as "stress hormones". During a challenge state, adrenaline increases the amount of blood pumped from the heart and expands the blood vessels, which allows more energy to be delivered to the muscles and brain. This increase of blood and decrease of pressure in the blood vessels has been consistently related to superior sport performance in everything from cricket batting, to golf putting and football penalty taking. But during a threat state, cortisol inhibits the positive effect of adrenaline, resulting in tighter blood vessels, higher blood pressure, slower psychological responses, and a faster heart rate. In short, a threat state makes people more anxious - they make worse decisions and perform more poorly. In tennis players, cortisol has been associated with more unsuccessful serves and greater anxiety.

E. That said, anxiety is also a common experience for athletes when they're under pressure. Anxiety can increase heart rate and perspiration, cause heart palpitations, muscle tremors and shortness of breath, as well as headaches, nausea, stomach pain, weakness and a desire to escape in more extreme cases. Anxiety can also reduce concentration and self-control and cause overthinking. The intensity with which a person experiences anxiety depends on the demands and resources they have. Anxiety may also manifest itself in the form of excitement or nervousness depending on the stress response. Negative stress responses can be damaging to both physical and mental health - and repeated episodes of anxiety coupled with negative responses can increase risk of heart disease and depression.

F. But there are many ways athletes can ensure they respond positively under pressure. Positive stress responses can be promoted through the language that they and others - such as coaches or parents - use. Psychologists can also help athletes change how they see their physiological responses - such as helping them see a higher heart rate as excitement, rather than nerves. Developing psychological skills, such as visualisation, can also help decrease physiological responses to threat. Visualisation may involve the athlete recreating a mental picture of a time when they performed well, or picturing themselves doing well in the future. This can help create a feeling of control over the stressful event. Recreating competitive pressure during training can also help athletes learn how to deal with stress. An example of this might be scoring athletes against their peers to create a sense of competition. This would increase the demands which players experience compared to a normal training session, while still allowing them to practise coping with stress.

Let us start by looking at a modern "genius", Maryam Mirzakhani, who died at the early age of 40. She was the only woman to win the Fields Medal - the mathematical equivalent of a Nobel prize. It would be easy to assume that someone as special as Mirzakhani must have been one of those "gifted" children, those who have an extraordinary ability in a specific sphere of activity or knowledge. But look closer and a different story emerges. Mirzakhani was born in Tehran, Iran. She went to a highly selective girls' school but maths wasn't her interest - reading was. She loved novels and would read anything she could lay her hands on. As for maths, she did rather poorly at it for the first couple of years in her middle school, but became interested when her elder brother told her about what he'd learned. He shared a famous maths problem from a magazine that fascinated her - and she was hooked.

In adult life it is clear that she was curious, excited by what she did and also resolute in the face of setbacks. One of her comments sums it up. "Of course, the most rewarding part is the 'Aha' moment, the excitement of discovery and enjoyment of understanding something new. . . But most of the time, doing mathematics for me is like being on a long hike with no trail and no end in sight. "That trail took her to the heights of original research into mathematics.

Is her background unusual? Apparently not. Most Nobel prize winners were unexceptional in childhood. Einstein was slow to talk as a baby. He failed the general part of the entry test to Zurich Polytechnic - though they let him in because of high physics and maths scores. He struggled at work initially, but he kept plugging away and eventually rewrote the laws of Newtonian mechanics with his theory of relativity.

There has been a considerable amount of research on high performance over the last century that suggests it goes way beyond tested intelligence. On top of that, research is clear that brains are flexible, new neural pathways can be created, and IQ isn't fixed. For example, just because you can read stories with hundreds of pages at the age of five doesn't mean you will still be ahead of your contemporaries in your teens.

While the jury is out on giftedness being innate and other factors potentially making the difference, what is certain is that the behaviours associated with high levels of performance are replicable and most can be taught - even traits such as curiosity.

According to my colleague Prof Deborah Eyre, with whom I've collaborated on the book Great Minds and How to Grow Them, the latest neuroscience and psychological research suggests most individuals can reach levels of performance associated in school with the gifted and talented. However, they must be taught the right attitudes and approaches to their learning and develop the attributes of high performers - curiosity, persistence and hard work, for example - an approach Eyre calls "high performance learning". Critically, they need the right support in developing those approaches at home as well as at school.

Prof Anders Ericsson, an eminent education psychologist at Florida State University, US, is the co-author of Peak: Secrets from the New Science of Expertise. After research going back to 1980 into diverse achievements, from music to memory to sport, he doesn't think unique and innate talents are at the heart of performance. Deliberate practice, that stretches you every step of the way, and around 10,000 hours of it, is what produces the goods. It's not a magic number - the highest performers move on to doing a whole lot more, of course. Ericsson's memory research is particularly interesting because random students, trained in memory techniques for the study, went on to outperform others thought to have innately superior memories - those who you might call gifted.

But it is perhaps the work of Benjamin Bloom, another distinguished American educationist working in the 1980s, that gives the most pause for thought. Bloom's team looked at a group of extraordinarily high achieving people in disciplines as varied as ballet, swimming, piano, tennis, maths, sculpture and neurology. He found a pattern of parents encouraging and supporting their children, often in areas they enjoyed themselves. Bloom's outstanding people had worked very hard and consistently at something they had become hooked on when at a young age, and their parents all emerged as having strong work ethics themselves.

Eyre says we know how high performers learn. From that she has developed a high performing learning approach. She is working on this with a group of schools, both in Britain and abroad. Some spin-off research, which looked in detail at 24 of the 3,000 children being studied who were succeeding despite difficult circumstances, found something remarkable. Half were getting free school meals because of poverty, more than half were living with a single parent, and four in five were living in disadvantaged areas. Interviews uncovered strong evidence of an adult or adults in the child's life who valued and supported education, either in the immediate or extended family or in the child's wider community. Children talked about the need to work hard at school, to listen in class and keep trying.

Let us end with Einstein, the epitome of a genius. He clearly had curiosity, character and determination. He struggled against rejection in early life but was undeterred. Did he think he was a genius or even gifted? He once wrote: "It's not that I'm so smart, it's just that I stay with problems longer. Most people say it is the intellect which makes a great scientist. They are wrong: it is character. "

In early April 2019, Dr Ceri Shipton and his colleagues from Australian National University became the first archaeologists to explore Obi, one of many tropical islands in Indonesia's Maluku Utara province. The research team's discoveries suggest that the prehistoric people who lived on Obi were adept on both land and sea, hunting in the dense rainforest, foraging on the seashore, and possibly even voyaging between islands.

The excavations were part of a project to learn more about how people first dispersed from mainland Asia, through the Indonesian archipelago and into the prehistoric continent that once connected Australia and New Guinea. The team's earlier research suggested that the northernmost islands in the group, known as the Wallacean islands, including Obi, would have offered the easiest migration route. It also seemed likely that these islands were crucial "stepping stones" on humans' island-hopping voyages through this region millennia ago. But to support this idea, they needed archaeological evidence for humans living in this remote area in the ancient past. So, they travelled to Obi to look for sites that might reveal evidence of early occupation.

Just inland from the village of Kelo on Obi's northern coast, Shipton and his colleagues found two caves containing prehistoric rock shelters that were suitable for excavation. With the permission and help of the local people of Kelo, they dug a small test excavation in each shelter. There they found numerous artefacts, including fragments of axes, some dating to about 14,000 years ago. The earliest axes at Kelo were made using clam shells. Axes made from clam shells from roughly the same time had also previously been found elsewhere in this region, including on the nearby island of Gebe to the northeast. As on Gebe, it is highly likely that Obi's axes were used in the construction of canoes, thus allowing these early peoples to maintain connections between communities on neighbouring islands.

The oldest cultural layers from the Kelo site provided the team with the earliest record for human occupation on Obi, dating back around 18,000 years. At this time the climate was drier and colder than today, and the island's dense rainforests would likely have been much less impenetrable than they are now. Sea levels were about 120 metres lower, meaning Obi was a much larger island, encompassing what is today the separate island of Bisa, as well as several other small islands nearby.

Roughly 11,700 years ago, as the most recent ice age ended, the climate became significantly warmer and wetter, no doubt making Obi's jungle much thicker. According to the researchers, it is no coincidence that around this time the first axes crafted from stone rather than sea shells appear, likely in response to their heavy-duty use for clearing and modification of the increasingly dense rainforest. While stone takes about twice as long to grind into an axe compared to shell, the harder material keeps its sharp edge for longer.

Judging by the bones which the researchers unearthed in the Kelo caves, people living there mainly hunted the Rothschild's cuscus, a possum-like creature that still lives on Obi today. As the forest grew more dense, people probably used axes to clear patches of forest and make hunting easier.

Shipton's team's excavation of the shelters at the Kelo site unearthed a volcanic glass substance called obsidian, which must have been brought over from another island, as there is no known source on Obi. It also revealed particular types of beads, similar to those previously found on islands in southern Wallacea. These finds again support the idea that Obi islanders routinely travelled to other islands.

The excavations suggest people successfully lived in the two Kelo shelters for about 10,000 years. But then, about 8,000 years ago, both were abandoned. Did the residents leave Obi completely, or move elsewhere on the island? Perhaps the jungle had grown so thick that axes were no longer a match for the dense undergrowth. Perhaps people simply moved to the coast and turned to fishing rather than hunting as a means of survival.

Whatever the reason for the departure, there is no evidence for use of the Kelo shelters after this time, until about 1,000 years ago, when they were re-occupied by people who owned pottery as well as items made out of gold and silver. It seems likely, in view of Obi's location, that this final phase of occupation also saw the Kelo shelters used by people involved in the historic trade in spices between the Maluku islands and the rest of the world.

A. Wetlands are areas where water covers the soil, or is present either at or near the surface of the soil, for all or part of the year. These are complex ecosystems, rich in unique plant and animal life. But according to the World Wide Fund for Nature (WWFN), half of the world's wetlands have disappeared since 1990 - converted or destroyed for commercial development, drainage schemes and the extraction of minerals and peat*. Many of those that remain have been damaged by agricultural pesticides and fertilisers, industrial pollutants, and construction works.

B. Throughout history, humans have gathered around wetlands, and their fertile ecosystems have played an important part in human development. Consequently, they are of considerable religious, historical and archaeological value to many communities around the world. "Wetlands directly support the livelihoods and well-being of millions of people," says Dr Matthew McCartney, principal researcher and hydrologist at the International Water Management Institute (IWMI). "In many developing countries, large numbers of people are dependent on wetland agriculture for their livelihoods. "

C. They also serve a crucial environmental purpose. "Wetlands are one of the key tools in mitigating climate change across the planet," says Pieter van Eijk, head of Climate Adaptation at Wetlands International (WI), pointing to their use as buffers that protect coastal areas from sea-level rise and extreme weather events such as hurricanes and flooding. Wetland coastal forests provide food and water, as well as shelter from storms, and WI and other agencies are working to restore those forests which have been lost. "It can be as simple as planting a few trees per hectare to create shade and substantially change a microclimate," he says. "Implementing climate change projects isn't so much about money. "

D. The world's wetlands are, unfortunately, rich sources for in-demand commodities, such as palm oil and pulpwood. Peatlands - wetlands with a waterlogged organic soil layer - are particularly targeted. When peatlands are drained for cultivation, they become net carbon emitters instead of active carbon stores, and, according to Marcel Silvius, head of Climate-smart Land-use at WI, this practice causes six per cent of all global carbon emissions. The clearance of peatlands for planting also increases the risk of forest fires, which release huge amounts of CO₂. "We're seeing huge peatland forests with extremely high biodiversity value being lost for a few decades of oil palm revenues," says Silvius.

E. The damage starts when logging companies arrive to clear the trees. They dig ditches to enter the peat swamps by boat and then float the logs out the same way. These are then used to drain water out of the peatlands to allow for the planting of corn, oil palms or pulpwood trees. Once the water has drained away, bacteria and fungi then break down the carbon in the peat and turn it into CO₂ and methane. Meanwhile, the remainder of the solid matter in the peat starts to move downwards, in a process known as subsidence*. Peat comprises 90 per cent water, so this is one of the most alarming consequences of peatland clearances. "In the tropics, peat subsides at about four centimetres a year, so within half a century, very large landscapes on Sumatra and Borneo will become flooded as the peat drops below water level," says Silvius. "It's a huge catastrophe that's in preparation. Some provinces will lose 40 per cent of their landmass. "

F. And while these industries affect wetlands in ways that can easily be documented, Dr Dave Tickner of the WWFN believes that more subtle impacts can be even more devastating. "Sediment run-off and fertilisers can be pretty invisible," says Tickner. "Over-extraction of water is equally invisible. You do get shock stories about rivers running red, or even catching fire, but there's seldom one big impact that really hurts a wetland. "Tickner does not blame anyone for deliberate damage, however. "I've worked on wetland issues for 20 years and have never met anybody who wanted to damage a wetland," he says. "It isn't something that people generally set out to do. Quite often, the effects simply come from people trying to make a living. "

G. Silvius also acknowledges the importance of income generation. "It's not that we just want to restore the biodiversity of wetlands - which we do - but we recognise there's a need to provide an income for local people. "This approach is supported by IWMI. "The idea is that people in a developing country will only protect wetlands if they value and profit from them," says McCartney. "For sustainability, it's essential that local people are involved in wetland planning and decision making and have clear rights to use wetlands. "

H. The fortunes of wetlands would be improved, Silvius suggests, if more governments recognised their long-term value. "Different governments have different attitudes," he says, and goes on to explain that some countries place a high priority on restoring wetlands, while others still deny the issue. McCartney is cautiously optimistic, however. "Awareness of the importance of wetlands is growing," he says. "It's true that wetland degradation still continues at a rapid pace, but my impression is that things are slowly changing. "

Noise, Alex Waibel tells me, is one of the major challenges that artificial speech translation has to meet. A device may be able to recognise speech in a laboratory, or a meeting room, but will struggle to cope with the kind of background noise I can hear in my office surrounding Professor Waibel as he speaks to me from Kyoto station in Japan. I'm struggling to follow him in English, on a scratchy line that reminds me we are nearly 10,000 kilometres apart - and that distance is still an obstacle to communication even if you're speaking the same language, as we are. We haven't reached the future yet. If we had, Waibel would have been able to speak more comfortably in his native German and I would have been able to hear his words in English.

At Karlsruhe Institute of Technology, where he is a professor of computer science, Waibel and his colleagues already give lectures in German that their students can follow in English via an electronic translator. The system generates text that students can read on their laptops or phones, so the process is somewhat similar to subtitling. It helps that lecturers speak clearly, don't have to compete with background chatter, and say much the same thing each year.

The idea of artificial speech translation has been around for a long time. Douglas Adams' science fiction novel, "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy", published in 1979, featured a life form called the "Babel fish" which, when placed in the ear, enabled a listener to understand any language in the universe. It came to represent one of those devices that technology enthusiasts dream of long before they become practically realisable, like TVs flat enough to hang on walls: objects that we once could only dream of having but that are now commonplace. Now devices that look like prototype Babel fish have started to appear, riding a wave of advances in artificial translation and voice recognition.

At this stage, however, they seem to be regarded as eye-catching novelties rather than steps towards what Waibel calls "making a language-transparent society". They tend to be domestic devices or applications suitable for hotel check-ins, for example, providing a practical alternative to speaking traveller's English. The efficiency of the translator is less important than the social function. However, "Professionals are less inclined to be patient in a conversation," founder and CEO at Waverly Labs, Andrew Ochoa, observes. To redress this, Waverly is now preparing a new model for professional applications, which entails performance improvements in speech recognition, translation accuracy and the time it takes to deliver the translated speech.

For a conversation, both speakers need to have devices called Pilots (translator earpieces) in their ears. "We find that there's a barrier with sharing one of the earphones with a stranger," says Ochoa. That can't have been totally unexpected. The problem would be solved if earpiece translators became sufficiently prevalent that strangers would be likely to already have their own in their ears. Whether that happens, and how quickly, will probably depend not so much on the earpieces themselves, but on the prevalence of voice-controlled devices and artificial translation in general.

Waibel highlights the significance of certain Asian nations, noting that voice translation has really taken off in countries such as Japan with a range of systems. There is still a long way to go, though. A translation system needs to be simultaneous, like the translator's voice speaking over the foreign politician being interviewed on the TV, rather than in sections that oblige speakers to pause after every few remarks and wait for the translation to be delivered. It needs to work offline, for situations where internet access isn't possible, and to address apprehensions about the amount of private speech data accumulating in the cloud, having been sent to servers for processing.

Systems not only need to cope with physical challenges such as noise, they will also need to be socially aware by addressing people in the right way. Some cultural traditions demand solemn respect for academic status, for example, and it is only polite to respect this. Etiquette-sensitive artificial translators could relieve people of the need to know these differing cultural norms. At the same time, they might help to preserve local customs, slowing the spread of habits associated with international English, such as its readiness to get on first-name terms.

Professors and other professionals will not outsource language awareness to software, though. If the technology matures into seamless, ubiquitous artificial speech translation, it will actually add value to language skills. Whether it will help people conduct their family lives or relationships is open to question - though one noteworthy possibility is that it could overcome the language barriers that often arise between generations after migration, leaving children and their grandparents without a shared language.

Whatever uses it is put to, though, it will never be as good as the real thing. Even if voice-morphing technology simulates the speaker's voice, their lip movements won't match, and they will look like they are in a dubbed movie. The contrast will underline the value of shared languages, and the value of learning them. Sharing a language can promote a sense of belonging and community, as with the international scientists who use English as a lingua franca, where their predecessors used Latin. Though the practical need for a common language will diminish, the social value of sharing one will persist. And software will never be a substitute for the subtle but vital understanding that comes with knowledge of a language.

According to conservationists, populations of around two thirds of butterfly species have declined in Britain over the past 40 years. If this trend continues, it might have unpredictable knock-on effects for other species in the ecosystem. Butterfly eggs develop into caterpillars and these insects, which are the second stage in a new butterfly's lifecycle, consume vast quantities of plant material, and in turn act as prey for birds as well as bats and other small mammals. Only by arming themselves with an understanding of why butterfly numbers are down can conservationists hope to halt or reverse the decline.

Butterflies prefer outdoor conditions to be "just right", which means neither too hot nor too cold. Under the conditions of climate change, the temperature at any given time in summer is generally getting warmer, leaving butterflies with the challenge of how to deal with this. One of the main ways in which species are ensuring conditions suit them is by changing the time of year at which they are active and reproduce. Scientists refer to the timing of such lifecycle events as "phenology", so when an animal or plant starts to do something earlier in the year than it usually does, it is said to be "advancing its phenology".

These advances have been observed already in a wide range of butterflies - indeed, most species are advancing their phenology to some extent. In Britain, as the average spring temperature has increased by roughly 0.5°C over the past 20 years, species have advanced by between three days and a week on average, to keep in line with cooler temperatures. Is this a sign that butterflies are well equipped to cope with climate change, and readily adjust to new temperatures? Or are these populations under stress, being dragged along unwillingly by unnaturally fast changes? The answer is still unknown, but a new study is seeking to answer these questions.

First, the researchers pulled together data from millions of records that had been submitted by butterfly enthusiasts - people who spend their free time observing the activities of different species. This provided information on 130 species of butterflies in Great Britain every year for a 20-year period. They then estimated the abundance and distribution of each species across this time, along with how far north in the country they had moved. The data also, crucially, allowed researchers to estimate subtle changes in what time of the year each species was changing into an adult butterfly.

Analysing the trends in each variable, the researchers discovered that species with more flexible lifecycles were more likely to be able to benefit from an earlier emergence driven by climate change. Some species are able to go from caterpillar to butterfly twice or more per year, so that the individual butterflies you see flying in the spring are the grandchildren or great-grandchildren of the individuals seen a year previously.

Among these species, researchers observed that those which have been advancing their phenology the most over the 20-year study period also had the most positive trends in abundance, distribution and northwards extent. For these species, such as Britain's tiniest butterfly, the dainty Small Blue, whose colonies are up to a hundred strong, some develop into butterflies early in spring, allowing their summer generations to complete another reproductive cycle by autumn so that more population growth occurs.

Other species, however, are less flexible and restricted to a single reproductive cycle per year. For these species, there was no evidence of any benefit to emerging earlier. Indeed, worryingly, it was found that the species in this group that specialise in very specific habitat types, often related to the caterpillar's preferred diet, actually tended to be most at harm from advancing phenology. The beautiful High Brown Fritillary, often described as Britain's most endangered butterfly, is in this group. It is found only in coppiced woodland and limestone pavement habitats. It is also a single-generation butterfly that has advanced its phenology. This suggests that climate change, while undoubtedly not the sole cause, might have played a part in the downfall of this species.

All is not lost, however. Many of Britain's single-generation species show the capacity, in continental Europe, to add a second generation in years that are sufficiently warm. Therefore, as the climate continues to warm, species like the Silver-studded Blue might be able to switch to multiple generations in the UK as well, and so begin to extract benefits from the additional warmth, potentially leading to population increases.

More immediately, conservationists can arm themselves with all this knowledge to spot the warning signs of species that may be at risk. The White Admiral of southern England, a much sought-after butterfly, experienced a significant increase in numbers from the 1920s but has shown a considerable decline in the past 20 years. This may be because the caterpillar exists solely on a diet of a plant called honeysuckle. But it is also likely to be due to climate change.

A. When Professor Mat Upton found that a microbe from a deep-sea sponge was killing pathogenic bugs in his laboratory, he realised it could be a breakthrough in the fight against antibiotic-resistant superbugs, which are responsible for thousands of deaths a year in the UK alone. Further tests confirmed that an antibiotic from the sponge bacteria, found living more than 700 metres under the sea at the Rockall trough in the north-east Atlantic, was previously unknown to science, boosting its potential as a life-saving medicine. But Upton, and other scientists who view the deep ocean and its wealth of unique and undocumented species as a prospecting ground for new medicines, fear such potential will be lost in the rush to exploit the deep sea's equally rich metal and mineral resources.

B. "We're looking at the bioactive potential of marine resources, to see if there are any more medicines or drugs down there before we destroy it for ever," says Upton, a medical microbiologist at the University of Plymouth. He is among many scientists urging a halt to deep-sea mining, asking for time to weigh up the pros and cons. "In sustainability terms, this could be a better way of exploiting the economic potential of the deep sea," he argues. Oceanographers using remotely operated vehicles have spotted many new species. Among them have been sea cucumbers with tails allowing them to sail along the ocean floor, and a rare "Dumbo" octopus, found 3,000 metres under the Pacific Ocean, off the coast of California. Any one of these could offer lifesaving potential. Upton estimates it could take up to a decade for a newly discovered antibiotic to become a medicine - but the race towards commercial mining in the ocean abyss has already begun.

C. The deep sea contains more nickel, cobalt and rare earth metals than all land reserves combined, according to the US Geological Survey. Mining corporations argue that deep-sea exploration could help diversify the supply of metals and point to the fact that demand for resources such as copper, aluminium, cobalt for electric car batteries and other metals to power technology and smartphones, is soaring. They say that deep-sea mining could yield far superior ore to land mining with little, if any, waste. Different methods of extraction exist, but most involve employing some form of converted machinery previously used in terrestrial mining to excavate materials from the sea floor, at depths of up to 6,000 metres, then drawing a seawater slurry, containing rock and other solid particles, from the sea floor to ships on the surface. The slurry is then "de-watered" and transferred to another vessel for shipping. Extracted seawater is pumped back down and discharged close to the sea floor.

D. But environmental and legal groups have urged caution, arguing there are potentially massive and unknown ramifications for the environment and for nearby communities, and that the global regulatory framework is not yet drafted. "Despite arising in the last half century, the 'new global gold rush' of deep-sea mining shares many features with past resource scrambles - including a general disregard for environmental and social impacts, and the marginalisation of indigenous peoples and their rights," a paper, written by Julie Hunter and Julian Aguon, from Blue Ocean Law, and Pradeep Singh, from the Center for Marine Environmental Sciences, Bremen, argues. The authors say that knowledge of the deep seabed remains extremely limited. "The surface of the Moon, Mars and even Venus have all been mapped and studied in much greater detail, leading marine scientists to commonly remark that, with respect to the deep sea, 'We don't yet know what we need to know'. "

E. Scientific research - including a recent paper in Marine Policy journal - has suggested the deep seabed, and hydrothermal vents, which are created when seawater meets volcanic magma, have crucial impacts upon biodiversity and the global climate. The mineral-rich vents and their surrounds are also home to many well-known animals including crustaceans, tubeworms, clams, slugs, anemones and fish. "It is becoming increasingly clear that deep-sea mining poses a grave threat to these vital seabed functions," the paper says. "Extraction methods would produce large sediment plumes and involve the discharge of waste back into the ocean, significantly disturbing seafloor environments," the paper continues. "On deep sea vents, scientists are clear," says Dr Jon Copley of the National Oceanography Centre, Southampton: "we don't want mining on them. "

F. The oceans occupy around 70% of the planet and are relatively unexplored, says Mike Johnston, chief executive of Nautilus, a Canadian underwater exploration company: "It makes sense to explore this untapped potential in an environmentally sustainable way, instead of continually looking at the fast depleting land resources of the planet to meet society's rising needs. "Those leading the global rush to place giant mining machines thousands of metres below the sea surface say the environmental impacts will be far lower than on land. But critics say exotic and little-known ecosystems in the deep oceans could be destroyed and must be protected. "Mining will be the greatest assault on deep-sea ecosystems ever inflicted by humans," according to hydrothermal vent expert Verena Tunnicliffe, at the University of Victoria in Canada. She argues that active vents must be off-limits for mining to protect the new knowledge and biotechnology spin-offs they can deliver, and that strict controls must be in place elsewhere.

There has long been a general assumption that human beings are essentially selfish. We're apparently ruthless, with strong impulses to compete against each other for resources and to accumulate power and possessions. If we are kind to one another, it's usually because we have ulterior motives. If we are good, it's only because we have managed to control and transcend our innate selfishness and brutality.

This bleak view of human nature is closely associated with the science writer Richard Dawkins, whose 1976 book "The Selfish Gene" became popular because it fitted so well with - and helped to justify - the competitive and individualistic ethos that was so prevalent in late 20th-century societies. Like many others, Dawkins justifies his views with reference to the field of evolutionary psychology. Evolutionary psychology theorises that present-day human traits developed in prehistoric times, during what is termed the "environment of evolutionary adaptedness".

Prehistory is usually seen as a period of intense competition, when life was such a brutal battle that only those with traits such as selfishness, aggression and ruthlessness survived. And because survival depended on access to resources - such as rivers, forests and animals - there was bound to be conflict between rival groups, which led to the development of traits such as racism and warfare. This seems logical. But, in fact, the assumption on which this all rests - that prehistoric life was a desperate struggle for survival - is false.

It's important to remember that in the prehistoric era, the world was very sparsely populated. According to some estimates, around 15,000 years ago, the population of Europe was only 29,000, and the population of the whole world was less than half a million. Humans at that time were hunter-gatherers: people who lived by hunting wild animals and collecting wild plants. With such small population densities, it seems unlikely that prehistoric hunter-gatherer groups had to compete against each other for resources or had any need to develop ruthlessness and competitiveness, or to go to war.

There is significant evidence to back this notion from contemporary hunter-gatherer groups, who live in the same way as prehistoric humans did. As the anthropologist Bruce Knauft has remarked, hunter-gatherers are characterised by "extreme political and sexual egalitarianism". Knauft has observed that individuals in such groups don't accumulate property or possessions and have an ethical obligation to share everything. They also have methods of preserving egalitarianism by ensuring that disparities of status don't arise.

The "! Kung" people of southern Africa, for example, swap arrows before going hunting and when an animal is killed, the acclaim does not go to the person who fired the arrow, but to the person the arrow belongs to. And if a person becomes too domineering, the other members of the group ostracise them, exiling the offender from society. Typically in such groups, men do not dictate what women do. Women in hunter-gatherer groups worldwide often benefit from a high level of autonomy, being able to select their own marriage partners, decide what work they do and work whenever they choose to. And if a marriage breaks down, they have custody rights over their children.

Many anthropologists believe that societies such as the "! Kung" were normal until a few thousand years ago, when population growth led to the development of agriculture and a settled lifestyle. In view of the above, there seems little reason to assume that traits such as racism, warfare and male domination should have been selected by evolution - as they would have been of little benefit in the prehistoric era. Individuals who behaved selfishly and ruthlessly would be less likely to survive, since they would have been ostracised from their groups.

It makes more sense, then, to see traits such as cooperation, egalitarianism, altruism and peacefulness as innate characteristics of human beings. These were the traits that were prevalent in human life for tens of thousands of years. So presumably these traits are still strong in us now.

But if prehistoric life wasn't really as brutal as has often been assumed, why do modern humans behave so selfishly and ruthlessly? Perhaps these negative traits should be seen as a later development, the result of environmental and psychological factors. Research has shown repeatedly that when the natural habitats of primates such as apes and gorillas are disrupted, they tend to become more violent and hierarchical.

So, it could well be that the same thing has happened to us. I believe that the end of the hunter-gatherer lifestyle and the advent of farming was connected to a psychological change that occurred in some groups of people. There was a new sense of individuality and separateness, which led to a new selfishness, and ultimately to hierarchical societies, patriarchy and warfare. At any rate, these negative traits appear to have developed so recently that it doesn't seem feasible to explain them in adaptive or evolutionary terms.