CLAT Practice Test- 27 - CLAT MCQ

India's foreign policy is undergoing a series of fundamental transformations in terms of its underlying narratives, processes and desired endgames. There is a conscious and consistent effort to break with the past, no matter how the outcomes might look eventually.

What could potentially make this change last longer than initially thought is that Prime Minister Narendra Modi has the mandate, the capability and the willingness to effect major changes and re-conceptualise the country's external security orientation. And yet, one must ask: Does this really mark a fundamental policy shift, or does it just amount to a slew of optics-friendly acts that are well-choreographed but not visionary?

One of the most striking features of the Modi government's foreign policy is its propensity for risk-taking - quite unlike most previous governments, barring perhaps that of Indira Gandhi. Armed with a clear majority, the government is keen to play offensive, undoing the decades-old defensive Indian strategic behaviour. New Delhi's actions at Doklam; its surgical strikes against Pakistan in 2016 after the Uri terror attacks; and the Balakot air strikes in the wake of Pulwama attacks this February - notwithstanding the questionable material outcomes in all these cases - are examples of this new-found offensive streak and risktaking tendency.

Q. With reference to the change in character of our foreign policy, the mandate that our present PM enjoys is

India's foreign policy is undergoing a series of fundamental transformations in terms of its underlying narratives, processes and desired endgames. There is a conscious and consistent effort to break with the past, no matter how the outcomes might look eventually.

What could potentially make this change last longer than initially thought is that Prime Minister Narendra Modi has the mandate, the capability and the willingness to effect major changes and re-conceptualise the country's external security orientation. And yet, one must ask: Does this really mark a fundamental policy shift, or does it just amount to a slew of optics-friendly acts that are well-choreographed but not visionary?

One of the most striking features of the Modi government's foreign policy is its propensity for risk-taking - quite unlike most previous governments, barring perhaps that of Indira Gandhi. Armed with a clear majority, the government is keen to play offensive, undoing the decades-old defensive Indian strategic behaviour. New Delhi's actions at Doklam; its surgical strikes against Pakistan in 2016 after the Uri terror attacks; and the Balakot air strikes in the wake of Pulwama attacks this February - notwithstanding the questionable material outcomes in all these cases - are examples of this new-found offensive streak and risktaking tendency.

Q. The phrase "Optics-friendly" in the passage, means

In large part as a consequence of the feminist movement, historians have focused a great deal of attention in recent years on determining more accurately the status of women in various periods. Although much has been accomplished for the modern period, premodern cultures have proved more difficult: sources are restricted in number, fragmentary, difficult to interpret, and often contradictory. Thus it is not particularly surprising that some earlier scholarship concerning such cultures has so far gone unchallenged. An example is Johann Bachofen's 1861 treatise on Amazons, women-ruled societies of questionable existence contemporary with ancient Greece.

Starting from the premise that mythology and legend preserve at least a nucleus of historical art, Bachofen argued that women were dominant in many ancient societies. His work was based on a comprehensive survey of references in the ancient sources to Amazonian and other societies with matrilineal customs - societies in which descent and property rights are traced through the female line. Some support for his theory can be found in evidence such as that drawn from Herodotus, the Greek historian of the fifth century B.C., who speaks of an Amazonian society, the Sauromatae, where the women hunted and fought in wars. A woman in this society was not allowed to marry until she had killed a person in battle.

Nonetheless, this assumption that the first recorders of ancient myths have preserved facts is problematic.

If one begins by examining why ancients refer to Amazons, it becomes clear that ancient Greek descriptions of such societies were meant not so much to represent observed historical fact - real Amazonian societies - but rather to offer moral lessons on the supposed outcome of women's rule in their own society.

The Amazons were often characterized, for example, as the equivalents of giants and centaurs, enemies to be slain by Greek heroes. Their customs were presented not as those of a respectable society, but as the very antithesis of ordinary Greek practices.

Thus I would argue, the purpose of accounts of the Amazons for their male Greek recorders is didactic, to teach both male and female Greeks that all-female groups, formed by withdrawal from traditional society, are destructive and dangerous. Myths about the Amazons were used in arguments for the male dominated status quo, in which groups composed exclusively of either sex were not permitted to segregate themselves permanently from society. Bachofen was thus misled in his reliance on myths for information about the status of women. Social documents like gravestones, wills and marriage contracts will probably tell contemporary historians most about women in the ancient world. Studies of such documents have already began to show how mistaken we are when we try to derive our picture of the ancient world exclusively from literary sources especially myths.

Q. The primary purpose of the passage is to

In large part as a consequence of the feminist movement, historians have focused a great deal of attention in recent years on determining more accurately the status of women in various periods. Although much has been accomplished for the modern period, premodern cultures have proved more difficult: sources are restricted in number, fragmentary, difficult to interpret, and often contradictory. Thus it is not particularly surprising that some earlier scholarship concerning such cultures has so far gone unchallenged. An example is Johann Bachofen's 1861 treatise on Amazons, women-ruled societies of questionable existence contemporary with ancient Greece.

Starting from the premise that mythology and legend preserve at least a nucleus of historical art, Bachofen argued that women were dominant in many ancient societies. His work was based on a comprehensive survey of references in the ancient sources to Amazonian and other societies with matrilineal customs - societies in which descent and property rights are traced through the female line. Some support for his theory can be found in evidence such as that drawn from Herodotus, the Greek historian of the fifth century B.C., who speaks of an Amazonian society, the Sauromatae, where the women hunted and fought in wars. A woman in this society was not allowed to marry until she had killed a person in battle.

Nonetheless, this assumption that the first recorders of ancient myths have preserved facts is problematic.

If one begins by examining why ancients refer to Amazons, it becomes clear that ancient Greek descriptions of such societies were meant not so much to represent observed historical fact - real Amazonian societies - but rather to offer moral lessons on the supposed outcome of women's rule in their own society.

The Amazons were often characterized, for example, as the equivalents of giants and centaurs, enemies to be slain by Greek heroes. Their customs were presented not as those of a respectable society, but as the very antithesis of ordinary Greek practices.

Thus I would argue, the purpose of accounts of the Amazons for their male Greek recorders is didactic, to teach both male and female Greeks that all-female groups, formed by withdrawal from traditional society, are destructive and dangerous. Myths about the Amazons were used in arguments for the male dominated status quo, in which groups composed exclusively of either sex were not permitted to segregate themselves permanently from society. Bachofen was thus misled in his reliance on myths for information about the status of women. Social documents like gravestones, wills and marriage contracts will probably tell contemporary historians most about women in the ancient world. Studies of such documents have already began to show how mistaken we are when we try to derive our picture of the ancient world exclusively from literary sources especially myths.

Q. Which of the following is presented in the passage as evidence supporting the author's view of the ancient Greek's description of the Amazons?

In large part as a consequence of the feminist movement, historians have focused a great deal of attention in recent years on determining more accurately the status of women in various periods. Although much has been accomplished for the modern period, premodern cultures have proved more difficult: sources are restricted in number, fragmentary, difficult to interpret, and often contradictory. Thus it is not particularly surprising that some earlier scholarship concerning such cultures has so far gone unchallenged. An example is Johann Bachofen's 1861 treatise on Amazons, women-ruled societies of questionable existence contemporary with ancient Greece.

Starting from the premise that mythology and legend preserve at least a nucleus of historical art, Bachofen argued that women were dominant in many ancient societies. His work was based on a comprehensive survey of references in the ancient sources to Amazonian and other societies with matrilineal customs - societies in which descent and property rights are traced through the female line. Some support for his theory can be found in evidence such as that drawn from Herodotus, the Greek historian of the fifth century B.C., who speaks of an Amazonian society, the Sauromatae, where the women hunted and fought in wars. A woman in this society was not allowed to marry until she had killed a person in battle.

Nonetheless, this assumption that the first recorders of ancient myths have preserved facts is problematic.

If one begins by examining why ancients refer to Amazons, it becomes clear that ancient Greek descriptions of such societies were meant not so much to represent observed historical fact - real Amazonian societies - but rather to offer moral lessons on the supposed outcome of women's rule in their own society.

The Amazons were often characterized, for example, as the equivalents of giants and centaurs, enemies to be slain by Greek heroes. Their customs were presented not as those of a respectable society, but as the very antithesis of ordinary Greek practices.

Thus I would argue, the purpose of accounts of the Amazons for their male Greek recorders is didactic, to teach both male and female Greeks that all-female groups, formed by withdrawal from traditional society, are destructive and dangerous. Myths about the Amazons were used in arguments for the male dominated status quo, in which groups composed exclusively of either sex were not permitted to segregate themselves permanently from society. Bachofen was thus misled in his reliance on myths for information about the status of women. Social documents like gravestones, wills and marriage contracts will probably tell contemporary historians most about women in the ancient world. Studies of such documents have already began to show how mistaken we are when we try to derive our picture of the ancient world exclusively from literary sources especially myths.

Q. The author suggests that the main reason for the persisting influence of Bachofen's work is that

In large part as a consequence of the feminist movement, historians have focused a great deal of attention in recent years on determining more accurately the status of women in various periods. Although much has been accomplished for the modern period, premodern cultures have proved more difficult: sources are restricted in number, fragmentary, difficult to interpret, and often contradictory. Thus it is not particularly surprising that some earlier scholarship concerning such cultures has so far gone unchallenged. An example is Johann Bachofen's 1861 treatise on Amazons, women-ruled societies of questionable existence contemporary with ancient Greece.

Starting from the premise that mythology and legend preserve at least a nucleus of historical art, Bachofen argued that women were dominant in many ancient societies. His work was based on a comprehensive survey of references in the ancient sources to Amazonian and other societies with matrilineal customs - societies in which descent and property rights are traced through the female line. Some support for his theory can be found in evidence such as that drawn from Herodotus, the Greek historian of the fifth century B.C., who speaks of an Amazonian society, the Sauromatae, where the women hunted and fought in wars. A woman in this society was not allowed to marry until she had killed a person in battle.

Nonetheless, this assumption that the first recorders of ancient myths have preserved facts is problematic.

If one begins by examining why ancients refer to Amazons, it becomes clear that ancient Greek descriptions of such societies were meant not so much to represent observed historical fact - real Amazonian societies - but rather to offer moral lessons on the supposed outcome of women's rule in their own society.

The Amazons were often characterized, for example, as the equivalents of giants and centaurs, enemies to be slain by Greek heroes. Their customs were presented not as those of a respectable society, but as the very antithesis of ordinary Greek practices.

Thus I would argue, the purpose of accounts of the Amazons for their male Greek recorders is didactic, to teach both male and female Greeks that all-female groups, formed by withdrawal from traditional society, are destructive and dangerous. Myths about the Amazons were used in arguments for the male dominated status quo, in which groups composed exclusively of either sex were not permitted to segregate themselves permanently from society. Bachofen was thus misled in his reliance on myths for information about the status of women. Social documents like gravestones, wills and marriage contracts will probably tell contemporary historians most about women in the ancient world. Studies of such documents have already began to show how mistaken we are when we try to derive our picture of the ancient world exclusively from literary sources especially myths.

Q. Which of the following can be inferred from the passage about the myths recorded by the ancient Greeks?

I. They sometimes included portrayals of women holding positions of power.

II. They some times contained elaborate explanations of inheritance customs.

III. They comprised almost all of the material available to historians about ancient Greece.

In large part as a consequence of the feminist movement, historians have focused a great deal of attention in recent years on determining more accurately the status of women in various periods. Although much has been accomplished for the modern period, premodern cultures have proved more difficult: sources are restricted in number, fragmentary, difficult to interpret, and often contradictory. Thus it is not particularly surprising that some earlier scholarship concerning such cultures has so far gone unchallenged. An example is Johann Bachofen's 1861 treatise on Amazons, women-ruled societies of questionable existence contemporary with ancient Greece.

Starting from the premise that mythology and legend preserve at least a nucleus of historical art, Bachofen argued that women were dominant in many ancient societies. His work was based on a comprehensive survey of references in the ancient sources to Amazonian and other societies with matrilineal customs - societies in which descent and property rights are traced through the female line. Some support for his theory can be found in evidence such as that drawn from Herodotus, the Greek historian of the fifth century B.C., who speaks of an Amazonian society, the Sauromatae, where the women hunted and fought in wars. A woman in this society was not allowed to marry until she had killed a person in battle.

Nonetheless, this assumption that the first recorders of ancient myths have preserved facts is problematic.

If one begins by examining why ancients refer to Amazons, it becomes clear that ancient Greek descriptions of such societies were meant not so much to represent observed historical fact - real Amazonian societies - but rather to offer moral lessons on the supposed outcome of women's rule in their own society.

The Amazons were often characterized, for example, as the equivalents of giants and centaurs, enemies to be slain by Greek heroes. Their customs were presented not as those of a respectable society, but as the very antithesis of ordinary Greek practices.

Thus I would argue, the purpose of accounts of the Amazons for their male Greek recorders is didactic, to teach both male and female Greeks that all-female groups, formed by withdrawal from traditional society, are destructive and dangerous. Myths about the Amazons were used in arguments for the male dominated status quo, in which groups composed exclusively of either sex were not permitted to segregate themselves permanently from society. Bachofen was thus misled in his reliance on myths for information about the status of women. Social documents like gravestones, wills and marriage contracts will probably tell contemporary historians most about women in the ancient world. Studies of such documents have already began to show how mistaken we are when we try to derive our picture of the ancient world exclusively from literary sources especially myths.

Q. It can be inferred that the probable reactions of many males in ancient Greece to the idea of a society ruled by women could best be characterized as

While the rhetoric of collective responsibility to achieve "ambitious outcomes" in terms of climate action to address the "climate emergency" stands questioned in the 25th Conference of Parties, the grim realities of the inequalities between countries and the evasion of responsibilities and commitments by the developed countries point towards the fundamental role and continued importance of the United Nations Framework

Convention on Climate Change that remains wider in its scope and broader in its vision than the Paris Agreement.

The developed countries are also seeking to manipulate the science policy interface in an attempt to sideline the equity and climate justice-related perspectives of the developing countries.

The 25th Conference of Parties of the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change, the annual climate summit of the countries that are signatories to the Convention, recently concluded at Madrid in December 2019. Instead of being hailed as a milestone, almost universally, it has been held to be a failure. A remarkable range of opinions appears to concur on this view, from the United Nations Secretary General to a number of governments, including the European Union and some of the small island states, and a range of nongovernmental organizations, including some of the biggest international players.

Referring to the year-long wave of public action preceding COP25, especially by students and youth in the developed countries, this narrative of failure has held all countries responsible for the lack of "ambitious" outcomes adequate to dealing with the "climate emergency." While some accounts have justifiably noted the role of the United States in the overall outcome, others have also targeted Brazil, and China, and even India by innuendo. This narrative of collective responsibility for the outcome has dominated the global media too and has been uncritically echoed in the national media in countries like India.

But if COP25 was indeed the failure it is perhaps justifiably held to be, why indeed did it fail and what precisely was the anatomy of the failure? Despite the incessant rhetoric of "ambition" to face the "climate emergency," why indeed were the outcomes so meagre, and where does the responsibility lie?

Unfortunately, the understanding of the challenge of global warming has been made considerably more difficult by the widespread tendency to ignore the reality of the grossly unequal world in which we live. The UNFCCC recognizes this in its explicit articulation of the principles of equity and common but differentiated responsibilities as the basis for climate action, and thus, calls on the developed countries to take the lead. However, all too often the argument is made that these principles and their implementation in the differentiation between developed and developing countries in climate action has somehow become outdated.

Q. Which of the following did not hail the 25th Conference of Parties of the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change as a failure?

While the rhetoric of collective responsibility to achieve "ambitious outcomes" in terms of climate action to address the "climate emergency" stands questioned in the 25th Conference of Parties, the grim realities of the inequalities between countries and the evasion of responsibilities and commitments by the developed countries point towards the fundamental role and continued importance of the United Nations Framework

Convention on Climate Change that remains wider in its scope and broader in its vision than the Paris Agreement.

The developed countries are also seeking to manipulate the science policy interface in an attempt to sideline the equity and climate justice-related perspectives of the developing countries.

The 25th Conference of Parties of the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change, the annual climate summit of the countries that are signatories to the Convention, recently concluded at Madrid in December 2019. Instead of being hailed as a milestone, almost universally, it has been held to be a failure. A remarkable range of opinions appears to concur on this view, from the United Nations Secretary General to a number of governments, including the European Union and some of the small island states, and a range of nongovernmental organizations, including some of the biggest international players.

Referring to the year-long wave of public action preceding COP25, especially by students and youth in the developed countries, this narrative of failure has held all countries responsible for the lack of "ambitious" outcomes adequate to dealing with the "climate emergency." While some accounts have justifiably noted the role of the United States in the overall outcome, others have also targeted Brazil, and China, and even India by innuendo. This narrative of collective responsibility for the outcome has dominated the global media too and has been uncritically echoed in the national media in countries like India.

But if COP25 was indeed the failure it is perhaps justifiably held to be, why indeed did it fail and what precisely was the anatomy of the failure? Despite the incessant rhetoric of "ambition" to face the "climate emergency," why indeed were the outcomes so meagre, and where does the responsibility lie?

Unfortunately, the understanding of the challenge of global warming has been made considerably more difficult by the widespread tendency to ignore the reality of the grossly unequal world in which we live. The UNFCCC recognizes this in its explicit articulation of the principles of equity and common but differentiated responsibilities as the basis for climate action, and thus, calls on the developed countries to take the lead. However, all too often the argument is made that these principles and their implementation in the differentiation between developed and developing countries in climate action has somehow become outdated.

Q. With reference to the passage, what is the meaning of the term 'signatories'?

While the rhetoric of collective responsibility to achieve "ambitious outcomes" in terms of climate action to address the "climate emergency" stands questioned in the 25th Conference of Parties, the grim realities of the inequalities between countries and the evasion of responsibilities and commitments by the developed countries point towards the fundamental role and continued importance of the United Nations Framework

Convention on Climate Change that remains wider in its scope and broader in its vision than the Paris Agreement.

The developed countries are also seeking to manipulate the science policy interface in an attempt to sideline the equity and climate justice-related perspectives of the developing countries.

The 25th Conference of Parties of the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change, the annual climate summit of the countries that are signatories to the Convention, recently concluded at Madrid in December 2019. Instead of being hailed as a milestone, almost universally, it has been held to be a failure. A remarkable range of opinions appears to concur on this view, from the United Nations Secretary General to a number of governments, including the European Union and some of the small island states, and a range of nongovernmental organizations, including some of the biggest international players.

Referring to the year-long wave of public action preceding COP25, especially by students and youth in the developed countries, this narrative of failure has held all countries responsible for the lack of "ambitious" outcomes adequate to dealing with the "climate emergency." While some accounts have justifiably noted the role of the United States in the overall outcome, others have also targeted Brazil, and China, and even India by innuendo. This narrative of collective responsibility for the outcome has dominated the global media too and has been uncritically echoed in the national media in countries like India.

But if COP25 was indeed the failure it is perhaps justifiably held to be, why indeed did it fail and what precisely was the anatomy of the failure? Despite the incessant rhetoric of "ambition" to face the "climate emergency," why indeed were the outcomes so meagre, and where does the responsibility lie?

Unfortunately, the understanding of the challenge of global warming has been made considerably more difficult by the widespread tendency to ignore the reality of the grossly unequal world in which we live. The UNFCCC recognizes this in its explicit articulation of the principles of equity and common but differentiated responsibilities as the basis for climate action, and thus, calls on the developed countries to take the lead. However, all too often the argument is made that these principles and their implementation in the differentiation between developed and developing countries in climate action has somehow become outdated.

Q. What is the reason behind developed countries seeking to manipulate the science policy interface?

While the rhetoric of collective responsibility to achieve "ambitious outcomes" in terms of climate action to address the "climate emergency" stands questioned in the 25th Conference of Parties, the grim realities of the inequalities between countries and the evasion of responsibilities and commitments by the developed countries point towards the fundamental role and continued importance of the United Nations Framework

Convention on Climate Change that remains wider in its scope and broader in its vision than the Paris Agreement.

The developed countries are also seeking to manipulate the science policy interface in an attempt to sideline the equity and climate justice-related perspectives of the developing countries.

The 25th Conference of Parties of the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change, the annual climate summit of the countries that are signatories to the Convention, recently concluded at Madrid in December 2019. Instead of being hailed as a milestone, almost universally, it has been held to be a failure. A remarkable range of opinions appears to concur on this view, from the United Nations Secretary General to a number of governments, including the European Union and some of the small island states, and a range of nongovernmental organizations, including some of the biggest international players.

Referring to the year-long wave of public action preceding COP25, especially by students and youth in the developed countries, this narrative of failure has held all countries responsible for the lack of "ambitious" outcomes adequate to dealing with the "climate emergency." While some accounts have justifiably noted the role of the United States in the overall outcome, others have also targeted Brazil, and China, and even India by innuendo. This narrative of collective responsibility for the outcome has dominated the global media too and has been uncritically echoed in the national media in countries like India.

But if COP25 was indeed the failure it is perhaps justifiably held to be, why indeed did it fail and what precisely was the anatomy of the failure? Despite the incessant rhetoric of "ambition" to face the "climate emergency," why indeed were the outcomes so meagre, and where does the responsibility lie?

Unfortunately, the understanding of the challenge of global warming has been made considerably more difficult by the widespread tendency to ignore the reality of the grossly unequal world in which we live. The UNFCCC recognizes this in its explicit articulation of the principles of equity and common but differentiated responsibilities as the basis for climate action, and thus, calls on the developed countries to take the lead. However, all too often the argument is made that these principles and their implementation in the differentiation between developed and developing countries in climate action has somehow become outdated.

Q. What is the opinion of the author regarding the coverage of COP25 by the Indian media?

While the rhetoric of collective responsibility to achieve "ambitious outcomes" in terms of climate action to address the "climate emergency" stands questioned in the 25th Conference of Parties, the grim realities of the inequalities between countries and the evasion of responsibilities and commitments by the developed countries point towards the fundamental role and continued importance of the United Nations Framework

Convention on Climate Change that remains wider in its scope and broader in its vision than the Paris Agreement.

The developed countries are also seeking to manipulate the science policy interface in an attempt to sideline the equity and climate justice-related perspectives of the developing countries.

The 25th Conference of Parties of the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change, the annual climate summit of the countries that are signatories to the Convention, recently concluded at Madrid in December 2019. Instead of being hailed as a milestone, almost universally, it has been held to be a failure. A remarkable range of opinions appears to concur on this view, from the United Nations Secretary General to a number of governments, including the European Union and some of the small island states, and a range of nongovernmental organizations, including some of the biggest international players.

Referring to the year-long wave of public action preceding COP25, especially by students and youth in the developed countries, this narrative of failure has held all countries responsible for the lack of "ambitious" outcomes adequate to dealing with the "climate emergency." While some accounts have justifiably noted the role of the United States in the overall outcome, others have also targeted Brazil, and China, and even India by innuendo. This narrative of collective responsibility for the outcome has dominated the global media too and has been uncritically echoed in the national media in countries like India.

But if COP25 was indeed the failure it is perhaps justifiably held to be, why indeed did it fail and what precisely was the anatomy of the failure? Despite the incessant rhetoric of "ambition" to face the "climate emergency," why indeed were the outcomes so meagre, and where does the responsibility lie?

Unfortunately, the understanding of the challenge of global warming has been made considerably more difficult by the widespread tendency to ignore the reality of the grossly unequal world in which we live. The UNFCCC recognizes this in its explicit articulation of the principles of equity and common but differentiated responsibilities as the basis for climate action, and thus, calls on the developed countries to take the lead. However, all too often the argument is made that these principles and their implementation in the differentiation between developed and developing countries in climate action has somehow become outdated.

Q. Why has the author held countries responsible for the failure of COP25?

While the rhetoric of collective responsibility to achieve "ambitious outcomes" in terms of climate action to address the "climate emergency" stands questioned in the 25th Conference of Parties, the grim realities of the inequalities between countries and the evasion of responsibilities and commitments by the developed countries point towards the fundamental role and continued importance of the United Nations Framework

Convention on Climate Change that remains wider in its scope and broader in its vision than the Paris Agreement.

The developed countries are also seeking to manipulate the science policy interface in an attempt to sideline the equity and climate justice-related perspectives of the developing countries.

The 25th Conference of Parties of the United Nations Framework Convention on Climate Change, the annual climate summit of the countries that are signatories to the Convention, recently concluded at Madrid in December 2019. Instead of being hailed as a milestone, almost universally, it has been held to be a failure. A remarkable range of opinions appears to concur on this view, from the United Nations Secretary General to a number of governments, including the European Union and some of the small island states, and a range of nongovernmental organizations, including some of the biggest international players.

Referring to the year-long wave of public action preceding COP25, especially by students and youth in the developed countries, this narrative of failure has held all countries responsible for the lack of "ambitious" outcomes adequate to dealing with the "climate emergency." While some accounts have justifiably noted the role of the United States in the overall outcome, others have also targeted Brazil, and China, and even India by innuendo. This narrative of collective responsibility for the outcome has dominated the global media too and has been uncritically echoed in the national media in countries like India.

But if COP25 was indeed the failure it is perhaps justifiably held to be, why indeed did it fail and what precisely was the anatomy of the failure? Despite the incessant rhetoric of "ambition" to face the "climate emergency," why indeed were the outcomes so meagre, and where does the responsibility lie?

Unfortunately, the understanding of the challenge of global warming has been made considerably more difficult by the widespread tendency to ignore the reality of the grossly unequal world in which we live. The UNFCCC recognizes this in its explicit articulation of the principles of equity and common but differentiated responsibilities as the basis for climate action, and thus, calls on the developed countries to take the lead. However, all too often the argument is made that these principles and their implementation in the differentiation between developed and developing countries in climate action has somehow become outdated.

Q. What is the meaning of the term 'innuendo' as used in the passage?

Ahmedabad’s Sunday market that sells junk is this 35-year-old artist’s favourite hunting ground. That’s where he picks saw-blades, printer toners, monitors, busted VCDs and hard disks, video players and other castaway gems.

Back home, he painstakingly dismantles his treasure of scrap and segregates it into big pieces (the videoplayer’s outer case), mid-sized (the insides of a hard disk) and small pieces (innards of a mobile).

This is art you can get up, close and personal with. The works grab the viewer’s attention at several levels.

Aesthetically, the creations themselves - such as Frivolity which uses feathers and terracotta diyas painted in dark fossil green that give it a strange life - appeal in a liveand-kicking sort of way.

Look a little closer and hey, you spot a zipper. Then it’s a journey all your own. Your eyes identify hairpins, spray spouts that hairdressers use, paper clips, thread, computer ribbons and the insides of everything from watches to the sliding metal bits that support drawers.

You can almost hear the works whirr.

So Hashissh, constructed from paper clips, backpack clips, a shining CD and twirled thread, may invite you to study its water-blue, pinks and green or Nelumbeshwar may beckon, bathed in acrylic pink and grey-black. But once you’re standing in front of a piece, you spot the zips and the hairpins. Then you simply visually dismantle Har’s work and rebuild it all over again. Zoom in, zoom out. It’s great fun.

Visualising the colour of his work demands a lot of attention, says Har. “During creation, the material is all differently coloured. So there’s a red switch next to a white panel next to a black clip. It can distract. I don’t sketch, so I have to keep a sharp focus on the final look I am working towards.”

As his work evolved, Har discovered laser-cutting on a visit to a factory where he had gone to sand-blast one of his pieces. Hooked by the zingy shapes laser-cutting offered, Har promptly used it to speed up a scooter and lend an unbearable lightness of being to a flighty autorickshaw, his latest works.

The NID-trained animation designer’s scrap quest was first inspired by a spider in his bathroom in Chennai when he was a teenager. He used a table-tennis ball (for the head), a bigger plastic ball (for the body) and twisted clothes hangers to form the legs. His next idea was to create a crab, and his mother obligingly brought one home from the market so that he could study and copy it.

Winning the first Art Positive fellowship offered by Bajaj Capital Arthouse last year gave Har the confidence to believe that he could make it as an artist or ‘aesthete’ as he likes to call himself.

Q. Which of the following would be a suitable title for the given passage?

Ahmedabad’s Sunday market that sells junk is this 35-year-old artist’s favourite hunting ground. That’s where he picks saw-blades, printer toners, monitors, busted VCDs and hard disks, video players and other castaway gems.

Back home, he painstakingly dismantles his treasure of scrap and segregates it into big pieces (the videoplayer’s outer case), mid-sized (the insides of a hard disk) and small pieces (innards of a mobile).

This is art you can get up, close and personal with. The works grab the viewer’s attention at several levels.

Aesthetically, the creations themselves - such as Frivolity which uses feathers and terracotta diyas painted in dark fossil green that give it a strange life - appeal in a liveand-kicking sort of way.

Look a little closer and hey, you spot a zipper. Then it’s a journey all your own. Your eyes identify hairpins, spray spouts that hairdressers use, paper clips, thread, computer ribbons and the insides of everything from watches to the sliding metal bits that support drawers.

You can almost hear the works whirr.

So Hashissh, constructed from paper clips, backpack clips, a shining CD and twirled thread, may invite you to study its water-blue, pinks and green or Nelumbeshwar may beckon, bathed in acrylic pink and grey-black. But once you’re standing in front of a piece, you spot the zips and the hairpins. Then you simply visually dismantle Har’s work and rebuild it all over again. Zoom in, zoom out. It’s great fun.

Visualising the colour of his work demands a lot of attention, says Har. “During creation, the material is all differently coloured. So there’s a red switch next to a white panel next to a black clip. It can distract. I don’t sketch, so I have to keep a sharp focus on the final look I am working towards.”

As his work evolved, Har discovered laser-cutting on a visit to a factory where he had gone to sand-blast one of his pieces. Hooked by the zingy shapes laser-cutting offered, Har promptly used it to speed up a scooter and lend an unbearable lightness of being to a flighty autorickshaw, his latest works.

The NID-trained animation designer’s scrap quest was first inspired by a spider in his bathroom in Chennai when he was a teenager. He used a table-tennis ball (for the head), a bigger plastic ball (for the body) and twisted clothes hangers to form the legs. His next idea was to create a crab, and his mother obligingly brought one home from the market so that he could study and copy it.

Winning the first Art Positive fellowship offered by Bajaj Capital Arthouse last year gave Har the confidence to believe that he could make it as an artist or ‘aesthete’ as he likes to call himself.

Q. According to the passage, which of the following statements can be inferred?

Ahmedabad’s Sunday market that sells junk is this 35-year-old artist’s favourite hunting ground. That’s where he picks saw-blades, printer toners, monitors, busted VCDs and hard disks, video players and other castaway gems.

Back home, he painstakingly dismantles his treasure of scrap and segregates it into big pieces (the videoplayer’s outer case), mid-sized (the insides of a hard disk) and small pieces (innards of a mobile).

This is art you can get up, close and personal with. The works grab the viewer’s attention at several levels.

Aesthetically, the creations themselves - such as Frivolity which uses feathers and terracotta diyas painted in dark fossil green that give it a strange life - appeal in a liveand-kicking sort of way.

Look a little closer and hey, you spot a zipper. Then it’s a journey all your own. Your eyes identify hairpins, spray spouts that hairdressers use, paper clips, thread, computer ribbons and the insides of everything from watches to the sliding metal bits that support drawers.

You can almost hear the works whirr.

So Hashissh, constructed from paper clips, backpack clips, a shining CD and twirled thread, may invite you to study its water-blue, pinks and green or Nelumbeshwar may beckon, bathed in acrylic pink and grey-black. But once you’re standing in front of a piece, you spot the zips and the hairpins. Then you simply visually dismantle Har’s work and rebuild it all over again. Zoom in, zoom out. It’s great fun.

Visualising the colour of his work demands a lot of attention, says Har. “During creation, the material is all differently coloured. So there’s a red switch next to a white panel next to a black clip. It can distract. I don’t sketch, so I have to keep a sharp focus on the final look I am working towards.”

As his work evolved, Har discovered laser-cutting on a visit to a factory where he had gone to sand-blast one of his pieces. Hooked by the zingy shapes laser-cutting offered, Har promptly used it to speed up a scooter and lend an unbearable lightness of being to a flighty autorickshaw, his latest works.

The NID-trained animation designer’s scrap quest was first inspired by a spider in his bathroom in Chennai when he was a teenager. He used a table-tennis ball (for the head), a bigger plastic ball (for the body) and twisted clothes hangers to form the legs. His next idea was to create a crab, and his mother obligingly brought one home from the market so that he could study and copy it.

Winning the first Art Positive fellowship offered by Bajaj Capital Arthouse last year gave Har the confidence to believe that he could make it as an artist or ‘aesthete’ as he likes to call himself.

Q. What does the word 'aesthete' as used in the passage mean?

Ahmedabad’s Sunday market that sells junk is this 35-year-old artist’s favourite hunting ground. That’s where he picks saw-blades, printer toners, monitors, busted VCDs and hard disks, video players and other castaway gems.

Back home, he painstakingly dismantles his treasure of scrap and segregates it into big pieces (the videoplayer’s outer case), mid-sized (the insides of a hard disk) and small pieces (innards of a mobile).

This is art you can get up, close and personal with. The works grab the viewer’s attention at several levels.

Aesthetically, the creations themselves - such as Frivolity which uses feathers and terracotta diyas painted in dark fossil green that give it a strange life - appeal in a liveand-kicking sort of way.

Look a little closer and hey, you spot a zipper. Then it’s a journey all your own. Your eyes identify hairpins, spray spouts that hairdressers use, paper clips, thread, computer ribbons and the insides of everything from watches to the sliding metal bits that support drawers.

You can almost hear the works whirr.

So Hashissh, constructed from paper clips, backpack clips, a shining CD and twirled thread, may invite you to study its water-blue, pinks and green or Nelumbeshwar may beckon, bathed in acrylic pink and grey-black. But once you’re standing in front of a piece, you spot the zips and the hairpins. Then you simply visually dismantle Har’s work and rebuild it all over again. Zoom in, zoom out. It’s great fun.

Visualising the colour of his work demands a lot of attention, says Har. “During creation, the material is all differently coloured. So there’s a red switch next to a white panel next to a black clip. It can distract. I don’t sketch, so I have to keep a sharp focus on the final look I am working towards.”

As his work evolved, Har discovered laser-cutting on a visit to a factory where he had gone to sand-blast one of his pieces. Hooked by the zingy shapes laser-cutting offered, Har promptly used it to speed up a scooter and lend an unbearable lightness of being to a flighty autorickshaw, his latest works.

The NID-trained animation designer’s scrap quest was first inspired by a spider in his bathroom in Chennai when he was a teenager. He used a table-tennis ball (for the head), a bigger plastic ball (for the body) and twisted clothes hangers to form the legs. His next idea was to create a crab, and his mother obligingly brought one home from the market so that he could study and copy it.

Winning the first Art Positive fellowship offered by Bajaj Capital Arthouse last year gave Har the confidence to believe that he could make it as an artist or ‘aesthete’ as he likes to call himself.

Q. According to the author, what makes Har ’s art fun?

Ahmedabad’s Sunday market that sells junk is this 35-year-old artist’s favourite hunting ground. That’s where he picks saw-blades, printer toners, monitors, busted VCDs and hard disks, video players and other castaway gems.

Back home, he painstakingly dismantles his treasure of scrap and segregates it into big pieces (the videoplayer’s outer case), mid-sized (the insides of a hard disk) and small pieces (innards of a mobile).

This is art you can get up, close and personal with. The works grab the viewer’s attention at several levels.

Aesthetically, the creations themselves - such as Frivolity which uses feathers and terracotta diyas painted in dark fossil green that give it a strange life - appeal in a liveand-kicking sort of way.

Look a little closer and hey, you spot a zipper. Then it’s a journey all your own. Your eyes identify hairpins, spray spouts that hairdressers use, paper clips, thread, computer ribbons and the insides of everything from watches to the sliding metal bits that support drawers.

You can almost hear the works whirr.

So Hashissh, constructed from paper clips, backpack clips, a shining CD and twirled thread, may invite you to study its water-blue, pinks and green or Nelumbeshwar may beckon, bathed in acrylic pink and grey-black. But once you’re standing in front of a piece, you spot the zips and the hairpins. Then you simply visually dismantle Har’s work and rebuild it all over again. Zoom in, zoom out. It’s great fun.

Visualising the colour of his work demands a lot of attention, says Har. “During creation, the material is all differently coloured. So there’s a red switch next to a white panel next to a black clip. It can distract. I don’t sketch, so I have to keep a sharp focus on the final look I am working towards.”

As his work evolved, Har discovered laser-cutting on a visit to a factory where he had gone to sand-blast one of his pieces. Hooked by the zingy shapes laser-cutting offered, Har promptly used it to speed up a scooter and lend an unbearable lightness of being to a flighty autorickshaw, his latest works.

The NID-trained animation designer’s scrap quest was first inspired by a spider in his bathroom in Chennai when he was a teenager. He used a table-tennis ball (for the head), a bigger plastic ball (for the body) and twisted clothes hangers to form the legs. His next idea was to create a crab, and his mother obligingly brought one home from the market so that he could study and copy it.

Winning the first Art Positive fellowship offered by Bajaj Capital Arthouse last year gave Har the confidence to believe that he could make it as an artist or ‘aesthete’ as he likes to call himself.

Q. Which of the following statements cannot be inferred from the passage?

Ahmedabad’s Sunday market that sells junk is this 35-year-old artist’s favourite hunting ground. That’s where he picks saw-blades, printer toners, monitors, busted VCDs and hard disks, video players and other castaway gems.

Back home, he painstakingly dismantles his treasure of scrap and segregates it into big pieces (the videoplayer’s outer case), mid-sized (the insides of a hard disk) and small pieces (innards of a mobile).

This is art you can get up, close and personal with. The works grab the viewer’s attention at several levels.

Aesthetically, the creations themselves - such as Frivolity which uses feathers and terracotta diyas painted in dark fossil green that give it a strange life - appeal in a liveand-kicking sort of way.

Look a little closer and hey, you spot a zipper. Then it’s a journey all your own. Your eyes identify hairpins, spray spouts that hairdressers use, paper clips, thread, computer ribbons and the insides of everything from watches to the sliding metal bits that support drawers.

You can almost hear the works whirr.

So Hashissh, constructed from paper clips, backpack clips, a shining CD and twirled thread, may invite you to study its water-blue, pinks and green or Nelumbeshwar may beckon, bathed in acrylic pink and grey-black. But once you’re standing in front of a piece, you spot the zips and the hairpins. Then you simply visually dismantle Har’s work and rebuild it all over again. Zoom in, zoom out. It’s great fun.

Visualising the colour of his work demands a lot of attention, says Har. “During creation, the material is all differently coloured. So there’s a red switch next to a white panel next to a black clip. It can distract. I don’t sketch, so I have to keep a sharp focus on the final look I am working towards.”

As his work evolved, Har discovered laser-cutting on a visit to a factory where he had gone to sand-blast one of his pieces. Hooked by the zingy shapes laser-cutting offered, Har promptly used it to speed up a scooter and lend an unbearable lightness of being to a flighty autorickshaw, his latest works.

The NID-trained animation designer’s scrap quest was first inspired by a spider in his bathroom in Chennai when he was a teenager. He used a table-tennis ball (for the head), a bigger plastic ball (for the body) and twisted clothes hangers to form the legs. His next idea was to create a crab, and his mother obligingly brought one home from the market so that he could study and copy it.

Winning the first Art Positive fellowship offered by Bajaj Capital Arthouse last year gave Har the confidence to believe that he could make it as an artist or ‘aesthete’ as he likes to call himself.

Q. What is the Central idea of the given passage?

Being an English-speaking country is a blessing - and a curse. It is a blessing to be native speakers of the language of Shakespeare - and the language of world science and popular culture. The success of UK science is built not just on its excellence but also its English, which since the decline of the Soviet Union has been the only serious global scientific language. The success of UK universities in recruiting international students also owes a great deal to the language.

But it is also a curse. As the incentives to learn other languages decline year by year, the English-speaking countries are increasingly locked into an Anglophone prison. It may be an advantage to travel almost everywhere and be "understood". But maybe the ability to understand other cultures is declining. The Chinese speak English; not many British speak Mandarin. Maybe there is a wider lesson here: monolingualism inhibits multicultural sensitivity.

This inhibition is expressed in a number of ways. Within the university, the humanities, where such sensitivity is crucial, are hardest hit. Stem subjects may be able to flourish as a monoglot domain (because their language is as much mathematics as English). But that can never be the case with literature, philosophy, history - and even some of the less theoretical social sciences - without a narrowing of perspectives.

In wider society, it is at least possible that the lack of challenge to neo-liberal ideas can be attributed partly to monolingualism. Alternative ideas can only become influential when they are translated into English.

Secondly, we are not really talking about English but "Globlish", a communication tool stripped of most of its cultural resonances. Non-native English speakers can easily become fluent in Globlish. Maybe they can even speak it better because most are not inhibited by faint memories of the King James Bible or Hamlet. For them Globlish is largely a functional language.

Other European countries now offer courses taught in English. In Scandinavia and the Netherlands this has long been routine at postgraduate level. But now Germany and even France have joined in. English, of course, has displaced Russian as the second language across central and eastern Europe.

Most of these courses are in business and management, or science and engineering. While Anglophone students remain in their monolingual prison, other students are becoming increasingly and confidently bilingual - on top of being skilled managers or engineers.

There is another risk - of complacency. Not only is the language premium enjoyed by Anglophone countries likely to decline as Globlish becomes more pervasive, but the current bias may tend to flatter us. The dominance of UK, and American, universities in global league tables may be exaggerated.

Q. What does the author mean when he says "English Speaking countries are locked into an Anglophone prison"?

Being an English-speaking country is a blessing - and a curse. It is a blessing to be native speakers of the language of Shakespeare - and the language of world science and popular culture. The success of UK science is built not just on its excellence but also its English, which since the decline of the Soviet Union has been the only serious global scientific language. The success of UK universities in recruiting international students also owes a great deal to the language.

But it is also a curse. As the incentives to learn other languages decline year by year, the English-speaking countries are increasingly locked into an Anglophone prison. It may be an advantage to travel almost everywhere and be "understood". But maybe the ability to understand other cultures is declining. The Chinese speak English; not many British speak Mandarin. Maybe there is a wider lesson here: monolingualism inhibits multicultural sensitivity.

This inhibition is expressed in a number of ways. Within the university, the humanities, where such sensitivity is crucial, are hardest hit. Stem subjects may be able to flourish as a monoglot domain (because their language is as much mathematics as English). But that can never be the case with literature, philosophy, history - and even some of the less theoretical social sciences - without a narrowing of perspectives.

In wider society, it is at least possible that the lack of challenge to neo-liberal ideas can be attributed partly to monolingualism. Alternative ideas can only become influential when they are translated into English.

Secondly, we are not really talking about English but "Globlish", a communication tool stripped of most of its cultural resonances. Non-native English speakers can easily become fluent in Globlish. Maybe they can even speak it better because most are not inhibited by faint memories of the King James Bible or Hamlet. For them Globlish is largely a functional language.

Other European countries now offer courses taught in English. In Scandinavia and the Netherlands this has long been routine at postgraduate level. But now Germany and even France have joined in. English, of course, has displaced Russian as the second language across central and eastern Europe.

Most of these courses are in business and management, or science and engineering. While Anglophone students remain in their monolingual prison, other students are becoming increasingly and confidently bilingual - on top of being skilled managers or engineers.

There is another risk - of complacency. Not only is the language premium enjoyed by Anglophone countries likely to decline as Globlish becomes more pervasive, but the current bias may tend to flatter us. The dominance of UK, and American, universities in global league tables may be exaggerated.

Q. What is the advantage of being one of the native speakers of the language of Shakespeare?

Being an English-speaking country is a blessing - and a curse. It is a blessing to be native speakers of the language of Shakespeare - and the language of world science and popular culture. The success of UK science is built not just on its excellence but also its English, which since the decline of the Soviet Union has been the only serious global scientific language. The success of UK universities in recruiting international students also owes a great deal to the language.

But it is also a curse. As the incentives to learn other languages decline year by year, the English-speaking countries are increasingly locked into an Anglophone prison. It may be an advantage to travel almost everywhere and be "understood". But maybe the ability to understand other cultures is declining. The Chinese speak English; not many British speak Mandarin. Maybe there is a wider lesson here: monolingualism inhibits multicultural sensitivity.

This inhibition is expressed in a number of ways. Within the university, the humanities, where such sensitivity is crucial, are hardest hit. Stem subjects may be able to flourish as a monoglot domain (because their language is as much mathematics as English). But that can never be the case with literature, philosophy, history - and even some of the less theoretical social sciences - without a narrowing of perspectives.

In wider society, it is at least possible that the lack of challenge to neo-liberal ideas can be attributed partly to monolingualism. Alternative ideas can only become influential when they are translated into English.

Secondly, we are not really talking about English but "Globlish", a communication tool stripped of most of its cultural resonances. Non-native English speakers can easily become fluent in Globlish. Maybe they can even speak it better because most are not inhibited by faint memories of the King James Bible or Hamlet. For them Globlish is largely a functional language.

Other European countries now offer courses taught in English. In Scandinavia and the Netherlands this has long been routine at postgraduate level. But now Germany and even France have joined in. English, of course, has displaced Russian as the second language across central and eastern Europe.

Most of these courses are in business and management, or science and engineering. While Anglophone students remain in their monolingual prison, other students are becoming increasingly and confidently bilingual - on top of being skilled managers or engineers.

There is another risk - of complacency. Not only is the language premium enjoyed by Anglophone countries likely to decline as Globlish becomes more pervasive, but the current bias may tend to flatter us. The dominance of UK, and American, universities in global league tables may be exaggerated.

Q. How is Globlish different from English?

Being an English-speaking country is a blessing - and a curse. It is a blessing to be native speakers of the language of Shakespeare - and the language of world science and popular culture. The success of UK science is built not just on its excellence but also its English, which since the decline of the Soviet Union has been the only serious global scientific language. The success of UK universities in recruiting international students also owes a great deal to the language.

But it is also a curse. As the incentives to learn other languages decline year by year, the English-speaking countries are increasingly locked into an Anglophone prison. It may be an advantage to travel almost everywhere and be "understood". But maybe the ability to understand other cultures is declining. The Chinese speak English; not many British speak Mandarin. Maybe there is a wider lesson here: monolingualism inhibits multicultural sensitivity.

This inhibition is expressed in a number of ways. Within the university, the humanities, where such sensitivity is crucial, are hardest hit. Stem subjects may be able to flourish as a monoglot domain (because their language is as much mathematics as English). But that can never be the case with literature, philosophy, history - and even some of the less theoretical social sciences - without a narrowing of perspectives.

In wider society, it is at least possible that the lack of challenge to neo-liberal ideas can be attributed partly to monolingualism. Alternative ideas can only become influential when they are translated into English.

Secondly, we are not really talking about English but "Globlish", a communication tool stripped of most of its cultural resonances. Non-native English speakers can easily become fluent in Globlish. Maybe they can even speak it better because most are not inhibited by faint memories of the King James Bible or Hamlet. For them Globlish is largely a functional language.

Other European countries now offer courses taught in English. In Scandinavia and the Netherlands this has long been routine at postgraduate level. But now Germany and even France have joined in. English, of course, has displaced Russian as the second language across central and eastern Europe.

Most of these courses are in business and management, or science and engineering. While Anglophone students remain in their monolingual prison, other students are becoming increasingly and confidently bilingual - on top of being skilled managers or engineers.

There is another risk - of complacency. Not only is the language premium enjoyed by Anglophone countries likely to decline as Globlish becomes more pervasive, but the current bias may tend to flatter us. The dominance of UK, and American, universities in global league tables may be exaggerated.

Q. Which of the following is true according to the given passage?

Being an English-speaking country is a blessing - and a curse. It is a blessing to be native speakers of the language of Shakespeare - and the language of world science and popular culture. The success of UK science is built not just on its excellence but also its English, which since the decline of the Soviet Union has been the only serious global scientific language. The success of UK universities in recruiting international students also owes a great deal to the language.

But it is also a curse. As the incentives to learn other languages decline year by year, the English-speaking countries are increasingly locked into an Anglophone prison. It may be an advantage to travel almost everywhere and be "understood". But maybe the ability to understand other cultures is declining. The Chinese speak English; not many British speak Mandarin. Maybe there is a wider lesson here: monolingualism inhibits multicultural sensitivity.

This inhibition is expressed in a number of ways. Within the university, the humanities, where such sensitivity is crucial, are hardest hit. Stem subjects may be able to flourish as a monoglot domain (because their language is as much mathematics as English). But that can never be the case with literature, philosophy, history - and even some of the less theoretical social sciences - without a narrowing of perspectives.

In wider society, it is at least possible that the lack of challenge to neo-liberal ideas can be attributed partly to monolingualism. Alternative ideas can only become influential when they are translated into English.

Secondly, we are not really talking about English but "Globlish", a communication tool stripped of most of its cultural resonances. Non-native English speakers can easily become fluent in Globlish. Maybe they can even speak it better because most are not inhibited by faint memories of the King James Bible or Hamlet. For them Globlish is largely a functional language.

Other European countries now offer courses taught in English. In Scandinavia and the Netherlands this has long been routine at postgraduate level. But now Germany and even France have joined in. English, of course, has displaced Russian as the second language across central and eastern Europe.

Most of these courses are in business and management, or science and engineering. While Anglophone students remain in their monolingual prison, other students are becoming increasingly and confidently bilingual - on top of being skilled managers or engineers.

There is another risk - of complacency. Not only is the language premium enjoyed by Anglophone countries likely to decline as Globlish becomes more pervasive, but the current bias may tend to flatter us. The dominance of UK, and American, universities in global league tables may be exaggerated.

Q. Neo-liberal ideas are not much challenged because

Weaver sees hypocrisy in the World Bank as a predictable feature in a large international organization especially when viewed using resource dependency (viewing the competitive environment) and sociological institutionalism (the authorising environment). The Bank's emphasis on organizational survival and legitimacy shows itself in its interactions with multiple actors in its competitive and authoritarian environments. Many critics of the Bank simply see the Bank as unable to achieve the goals it sets and help its client states. Weaver however launches into an in-depth description of two "worlds"-the World's Bank and the Bank's World. The former indicates the complex structure of the Bank including its donor states, client states, its private capital markets and the watchdog Non-Governmental Organisations (NGOs). Weaver's examination reveals the various pressures exerted on the Bank and the degree of American influence on the bank.

In as much as the Bank is pressured from many sides, Weaver notes a strong degree of operational authority and autonomy in the "Bank's World". This stems from the complexity of its operations, some which are not open to extensive review. Second the diversity of member states allows the Bank some autonomy and most importantly, the Bank holds a strong monopoly over development related knowledge. This control of ideas is coupled with a technocratic and economic rationality, reinforced with the influx of Western trained neo-classical economists. Bank ideological coherence is also maintained by the editing of reports to align with neoliberal beliefs. It is within these strong intellectual norms that Weaver examines World Bank reforms. Contrary to some critics, the Bank did engage in reforms in the 1990s. The Strategic Compact arose as a need to transform the Bank back as an effort to re-orientate itself as the premier development agency, after external criticism and an internal evaluation. The first aim of streamlining bureaucracy was easily reached however the aim of being more "poverty focused and accountable" came at odds with the technical, economic and apolitical rationality. New efforts such as listening to clients and conducting consultations clashed with the existing approval culture. Overall, changes occurred but still the approval culture remained strong.

Similarly, the focus on good governance was not that effective with apolitical stances amongst staff.

Furthermore, the dominating neo-liberal mindset resulted in governance issues framed with economic objectives in mind. Just as with the Strategic Compact, Weaver notes that governance reform challenged the Bank's conventional method of conducting business.

Weaver does qualify that the constant need to placate the demands of various external groups also hampered Bank reform. She however noted that the Bank deep culture will prevent any productive change. Weaver thus delves away from the normal criticism of the World Bank to explain the reasons of Bank actions and activities.

She shed a new light noting that such hypocrisy is a tenet in any large international organisation. In order for any improvement to the World Bank, it is not simply the initiation of change but the need to re work the internal settings of one of the world's most important development groups.

Q. Under which environments does Weaver assess World Bank's hypocrisy?

Weaver sees hypocrisy in the World Bank as a predictable feature in a large international organization especially when viewed using resource dependency (viewing the competitive environment) and sociological institutionalism (the authorising environment). The Bank's emphasis on organizational survival and legitimacy shows itself in its interactions with multiple actors in its competitive and authoritarian environments. Many critics of the Bank simply see the Bank as unable to achieve the goals it sets and help its client states. Weaver however launches into an in-depth description of two "worlds"-the World's Bank and the Bank's World. The former indicates the complex structure of the Bank including its donor states, client states, its private capital markets and the watchdog Non-Governmental Organisations (NGOs). Weaver's examination reveals the various pressures exerted on the Bank and the degree of American influence on the bank.

In as much as the Bank is pressured from many sides, Weaver notes a strong degree of operational authority and autonomy in the "Bank's World". This stems from the complexity of its operations, some which are not open to extensive review. Second the diversity of member states allows the Bank some autonomy and most importantly, the Bank holds a strong monopoly over development related knowledge. This control of ideas is coupled with a technocratic and economic rationality, reinforced with the influx of Western trained neo-classical economists. Bank ideological coherence is also maintained by the editing of reports to align with neoliberal beliefs. It is within these strong intellectual norms that Weaver examines World Bank reforms. Contrary to some critics, the Bank did engage in reforms in the 1990s. The Strategic Compact arose as a need to transform the Bank back as an effort to re-orientate itself as the premier development agency, after external criticism and an internal evaluation. The first aim of streamlining bureaucracy was easily reached however the aim of being more "poverty focused and accountable" came at odds with the technical, economic and apolitical rationality. New efforts such as listening to clients and conducting consultations clashed with the existing approval culture. Overall, changes occurred but still the approval culture remained strong.

Similarly, the focus on good governance was not that effective with apolitical stances amongst staff.

Furthermore, the dominating neo-liberal mindset resulted in governance issues framed with economic objectives in mind. Just as with the Strategic Compact, Weaver notes that governance reform challenged the Bank's conventional method of conducting business.

Weaver does qualify that the constant need to placate the demands of various external groups also hampered Bank reform. She however noted that the Bank deep culture will prevent any productive change. Weaver thus delves away from the normal criticism of the World Bank to explain the reasons of Bank actions and activities.

She shed a new light noting that such hypocrisy is a tenet in any large international organisation. In order for any improvement to the World Bank, it is not simply the initiation of change but the need to re work the internal settings of one of the world's most important development groups.

Q. It can be inferred that Weaver's attitude to the World Bank is best reflected in which of the following statements?

Weaver sees hypocrisy in the World Bank as a predictable feature in a large international organization especially when viewed using resource dependency (viewing the competitive environment) and sociological institutionalism (the authorising environment). The Bank's emphasis on organizational survival and legitimacy shows itself in its interactions with multiple actors in its competitive and authoritarian environments. Many critics of the Bank simply see the Bank as unable to achieve the goals it sets and help its client states. Weaver however launches into an in-depth description of two "worlds"-the World's Bank and the Bank's World. The former indicates the complex structure of the Bank including its donor states, client states, its private capital markets and the watchdog Non-Governmental Organisations (NGOs). Weaver's examination reveals the various pressures exerted on the Bank and the degree of American influence on the bank.

In as much as the Bank is pressured from many sides, Weaver notes a strong degree of operational authority and autonomy in the "Bank's World". This stems from the complexity of its operations, some which are not open to extensive review. Second the diversity of member states allows the Bank some autonomy and most importantly, the Bank holds a strong monopoly over development related knowledge. This control of ideas is coupled with a technocratic and economic rationality, reinforced with the influx of Western trained neo-classical economists. Bank ideological coherence is also maintained by the editing of reports to align with neoliberal beliefs. It is within these strong intellectual norms that Weaver examines World Bank reforms. Contrary to some critics, the Bank did engage in reforms in the 1990s. The Strategic Compact arose as a need to transform the Bank back as an effort to re-orientate itself as the premier development agency, after external criticism and an internal evaluation. The first aim of streamlining bureaucracy was easily reached however the aim of being more "poverty focused and accountable" came at odds with the technical, economic and apolitical rationality. New efforts such as listening to clients and conducting consultations clashed with the existing approval culture. Overall, changes occurred but still the approval culture remained strong.

Similarly, the focus on good governance was not that effective with apolitical stances amongst staff.

Furthermore, the dominating neo-liberal mindset resulted in governance issues framed with economic objectives in mind. Just as with the Strategic Compact, Weaver notes that governance reform challenged the Bank's conventional method of conducting business.

Weaver does qualify that the constant need to placate the demands of various external groups also hampered Bank reform. She however noted that the Bank deep culture will prevent any productive change. Weaver thus delves away from the normal criticism of the World Bank to explain the reasons of Bank actions and activities.

She shed a new light noting that such hypocrisy is a tenet in any large international organisation. In order for any improvement to the World Bank, it is not simply the initiation of change but the need to re work the internal settings of one of the world's most important development groups.

Q. Consider the following statements:

1. The World Bank engaged in reforms in the 1980s.

2. Every operation of the World Bank is open to extensive reviews.

According to the above passage, which of the statements is/are valid?