All Courses
Explore Courses UPSC Exam UPSC Test Series Free Notes EduRev Infinity Get the App Login Join for Free
Sign in Open App
CAT Exam  >  CAT Questions  >  Directions:The passage below is accompanied b... Start Learning for Free
SaveJoin the Discussion on the App
Directions: The passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best answer to each question.
Philosophical games aside, the practical importance of understanding the brain basis of consciousness is easy to appreciate. General anaesthesia has to count as one of the greatest inventions of all time. Less happily, distressing disturbances of consciousness can accompany brain injuries and mental illnesses for the increasing number of us, me included, who encounter these conditions. And for each one of us, conscious experiences change throughout life, from the blooming and buzzing confusion of early life, through the apparent though probably illusory and certainly not universal clarity of adulthood, and on to our final drift into the gradual — and for some, disorientingly rapid — dissolution of the self as neurodegenerative decay sets in.
At each stage in this process, you exist, but the notion that there is a single unique conscious self (a soul?) that persists over time may be grossly mistaken. Indeed, one of the most compelling aspects of the mystery of consciousness is the nature of self. Is consciousness possible without self-consciousness? And if so, would it still matter so much?
Answers to difficult questions like these have many implications for how we think about the world and the life it contains. When does consciousness begin in development? Does it emerge at birth, or is it present even in the womb? What about consciousness in nonhuman animals — and not just in primates and other mammals, but in otherworldly creatures like the octopus and perhaps even in simple organisms such as nematode worms or bacteria?
Despite his now-tarnished reputation among neuroscientists, Sigmund Freud was right about many things. Looking back through the history of science, he identified three "strikes" against the perceived self-importance of the human species, each marking a major scientific advance that was strongly resisted at the time.
The first was by Copernicus, who showed with his heliocentric theory that the Earth rotates around the sun and not the other way around. With this dawned the realisation that we are not at the centre of the universe; we are just a speck somewhere out there in the vastness, a pale blue dot suspended in the abyss.
Next came Darwin, who revealed that we share common ancestry with all other living things, a realisation that is — astonishingly — still resisted in some parts of the world even today.
Immodestly, Freud's third strike against human exceptionalism was his own theory of the unconscious mind, which challenged the idea that our mental lives are under our conscious, rational control. While he may have been off target in the details, he was absolutely right to point out that a naturalistic explanation of mind and consciousness would be a further, and perhaps final, dethronement of humankind.
These shifts in how we see ourselves are to be welcomed. With each new advance in our understanding comes a new sense of wonder and a new ability to see ourselves as less apart from — and more a part of — the rest of nature.
Our conscious experiences are part of nature just as our bodies are, just as our world is. And when life ends, consciousness will end too. When I think about this, I am transported back to my experience — my non-experience — of anaesthesia. To its oblivion, perhaps comforting, but oblivion nonetheless. The novelist Julian Barnes, in his meditation on mortality, puts it perfectly. When the end of consciousness comes, there is nothing — really nothing — to be frightened of.
Q. Which one of the following best describes the word 'oblivion' in the context of the passage?
  • a)
    A state of mind where one is completely unaware of one's surroundings
  • b)
    A situation where one experiences ecstasy and pure bliss
  • c)
    A situation where one completely loses control over one's surroundings
  • d)
    A state of mind where one is able to escape the reality
Correct answer is option 'A'. Can you explain this answer?
FREE This question is part of
Download PDF Attempt Test
Download PDF Attempt this Test
Most Upvoted Answer
Directions:The passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Cho...
The word 'oblivion' in the context of the passage implies a state of mind where a person completely loses his consciousness and thoughts. It is used to describe a state that an individual experiences after getting anesthesia.
Option 1: This option implies a state of mind, where one is completely unaffected from external stimulus and thus, is completely unaware of his surroundings.
Option 2: The option is completely out of the context of the passage.
Option 3: The option describes something that leads to oblivion rather than specifying the actual essence of the word in the context of the passage.
Option 4: The option conveys a state of mind where one is still conscious, albeit now experiencing different kinds of emotions and situations, whereas 'oblivion' emphasises a state of complete unconsciousness.
Free Test
FREE
Start Free Test
Start Free Test
Community Answer
Directions:The passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Cho...
Understanding "Oblivion" in Context
In the passage, the term "oblivion" is used to describe a state of consciousness experienced under anaesthesia. Here’s a detailed analysis of why option 'A' is the best fit:
Definition of Oblivion
- State of Unawareness: "Oblivion" refers to a condition where an individual is completely unaware of their surroundings. This aligns with the nature of anaesthesia, where the patient loses all conscious awareness during the procedure.
Contextual Clarity
- Contrast with Consciousness: The author reflects on the experience of anaesthesia as a form of non-existence or a state devoid of consciousness. This interpretation supports the idea that oblivion is about a lack of awareness rather than a euphoric or blissful experience.
- Philosophical Implication: The passage discusses the end of consciousness and the comfort in the idea that there is "nothing" to fear when this oblivion occurs. This reinforces the notion that oblivion is synonymous with a complete absence of conscious awareness, rather than an experience of ecstasy (option B) or control loss (option C).
Conclusion
- Final Interpretation: Given the context of the passage and the philosophical reflections on consciousness and awareness, option 'A' (a state of mind where one is completely unaware of one’s surroundings) accurately encapsulates the meaning of "oblivion" in the text.
This interpretation emphasizes the complexity of consciousness and the contrasting states of being aware versus being in oblivion, particularly in relation to anaesthesia and mortality.
Attention CAT Students!
To make sure you are not studying endlessly, EduRev has designed CAT study material, with Structured Courses, Videos, & Test Series. Plus get personalized analysis, doubt solving and improvement plans to achieve a great score in CAT.
< Previous Question Next Question >
Explore Courses for CAT exam

Similar CAT Doubts

InstructionsRead the following passage and answer the questions that follow:Economists have spent most of the 20th century ignoring psychology, positive or otherwise. But today there is a great deal of emphasis on how happiness can shape global economies, or — on a smaller scale — successful business practice. This is driven, in part, by a trend in "measuring" positive emotions, mostly so they can be optimized.Neuroscientists, for example, claim to be able to locate specific emotions, such as happiness or disappointment, in particular areas of the brain. Wearable technologies, such as Spire, offer data-driven advice on how to reduce stress.We are no longer just dealing with "happiness" in a philosophical or romantic sense — it has become something that can be monitored and measured, including by our behavior, use of social media and bodily indicators such as pulse rate and facial expressions.There is nothing automatically sinister about this trend. But it is disquieting that the businesses and experts driving the quantification of happiness claim to have our best interests at heart, often concealing their own agendas in the process.In the workplace, happy workers are viewed as a "win-win." Work becomes more pleasant, and employees, more productive. But this is now being pursued through the use of performance-evaluating wearable technology, such as Humanyze or Virgin Pulse, both of which monitor physical signs of stress and activity toward the goal of increasing productivity.Cities such as Dubai, which has pledged to become the "happiest city in the world," dream up ever-more elaborate and intrusive ways of collecting data on well-being — to the point where there is now talk of using CCTV cameras to monitor facial expressions in public spaces. New ways of detecting emotions are hitting the market all the time: One company, Beyond Verbal, aims to calculate moods conveyed in a phone conversation, potentially without the knowledge of at least one of the participants. And Facebook [has] demonstrated . . . that it could influence our emotions through tweaking our news feeds — opening the door to ever-more targeted manipulation in advertising and influence.As the science grows more sophisticated and technologies become more intimate with our thoughts and bodies, a clear trend is emerging. Where happiness indicators were once used as a basis to reform society, challenging the obsession with money that G.D.P. measurement entrenches, they are increasingly used as a basis to transform or discipline individuals.Happiness becomes a personal project, that each of us must now work on, like going to the gym. Since the 1970s, depression has come to be viewed as a cognitive or neurological defect in the individual, and never a consequence of circumstances. All of this simply escalates the sense of responsibility each of us feels for our own feelings, and with it, the sense of failure when things go badly. A society that deliberately removed certain sources of misery, such as precarious and exploitative employment, may well be a happier one. But we wont get there by making this single, often fleeting emotion, the over-arching goal.Q.From the passage we can infer that the author would like economists to

Read the following passage and answer the questions that follow: Economists have spent most of the 20th century ignoring psychology, positive or otherwise. But today there is a great deal of emphasis on how happiness can shape global economies, or — on a smaller scale — successful business practice. This is driven, in part, by a trend in "measuring" positive emotions, mostly so they can be optimized. Neuroscientists, for example, claim to be able to locate specific emotions, such as happiness or disappointment, in particular areas of the brain. Wearable technologies, such as Spire, offer data-driven advice on how to reduce stress.We are no longer just dealing with "happiness" in a philosophical or romantic sense — it has become something that can be monitored and measured, including by our behavior, use of social media and bodily indicators such as pulse rate and facial expressions.There is nothing automatically sinister about this trend. But it is disquieting that the businesses and experts driving the quantification of happiness claim to have our best interests at heart, often concealing their own agendas in the process. In the workplace, happy workers are viewed as a "win-win." Work becomes more pleasant, and employees, more productive. But this is now being pursued through the use of performance-evaluating wearable technology, such as Humanyze or Virgin Pulse, both of which monitor physical signs of stress and activity toward the goal of increasing productivity.Cities such as Dubai, which has pledged to become the "happiest city in the world," dream up ever-more elaborate and intrusive ways of collecting data on well-being — to the point where there is now talk of using CCTV cameras to monitor facial expressions in public spaces. New ways of detecting emotions are hitting the market all the time: One company, Beyond Verbal, aims to calculate moods conveyed in a phone conversation, potentially without the knowledge of at least one of the participants. And Facebook [has] demonstrated . . . that it could influence our emotions through tweaking our news feeds — opening the door to ever-more targeted manipulation in advertising and influence.As science grows more sophisticated and technologies become more intimate with our thoughts and bodies, a clear trend is emerging. Where happiness indicators were once used as a basis to reform society, challenging the obsession with money that G.D.P. measurement entrenches, they are increasingly used as a basis to transform or discipline individuals.Happiness becomes a personal project that each of us must now work on, like going to the gym. Since the 1970s, depression has come to be viewed as a cognitive or neurological defect in the individual, and never a consequence of circumstances. All of this simply escalates the sense of responsibility each of us feels for our own feelings, and with it, the sense of failure when things go badly. A society that deliberately removed certain sources of misery, such as precarious and exploitative employment, may well be a happier one. But we won't get there by making this single, often fleeting emotion, the overarching goal.Q. From the passage we can infer that the author would like economists to

DIRECTIONS: Read the passage and answer the questions based on it.Economists have spent most of the 20th century ignoring psychology, positive or otherwise. But today there is a great deal of emphasis on how happiness can shape global economies, or — on a smaller scale — successful business practice. This is driven, in part, by a trend in “measuring” positive emotions, mostly so they can be optimized. Neuroscientists, for example, claim to be able to locate specific emotions, such as happiness or disappointment, in particular areas of the brain. Wearable technologies, such as Spire, offer data-driven advice on how to reduce stress.We are no longer just dealing with “happiness” in a philosophical or romantic sense — it has become something that can be monitored and measured, including by our behavior, use of social media and bodily indicators such as pulse rate and facial expressions.There is nothing automatically sinister about this trend. But it is disquieting that the businesses and experts driving the quantification of happiness claim to have our best interests at heart, often concealing their own agendas in the process. In the workplace, happy workers are viewed as a “winwin.” Work becomes more pleasant, and employees, more productive. But this is now being pursued through the use of performance-evaluating wearable technology, such as Humanyze or Virgin Pulse, both of which monitor physical signs of stress and activity toward the goal of increasing productivity.Cities such as Dubai, which has pledged to become the “happiest city in the world,” dream up ever-more elaborate and intrusive ways of collecting data on well-being — to the point where there is now talk of using CCTV cameras to monitor facial expressions in public spaces. New ways of detecting emotions are hitting the market all the time: One company, Beyond Verbal, aims to calculate moods conveyed in a phone conversation, potentially without the knowledge of at least one of the participants. And Facebook [has] demonstrated.. . that it could influence our emotions through tweaking our news feeds — opening the door to ever-more targeted manipulation in advertising and influence.As the science grows more sophisticated and technologies become more intimate with our thoughts and bodies, a clear trend is emerging. Where happiness indicators were once used as a basis to reform society, challenging the obsession with money that G.D.P. measurement entrenches, they are increasingly used as a basis to transform or discipline individuals.(2018)Q.From the passage we can infer that the author would like economists to

DIRECTIONS: Read the passage and answer the questions based on it.Economists have spent most of the 20th century ignoring psychology, positive or otherwise. But today there is a great deal of emphasis on how happiness can shape global economies, or — on a smaller scale — successful business practice. This is driven, in part, by a trend in “measuring” positive emotions, mostly so they can be optimized. Neuroscientists, for example, claim to be able to locate specific emotions, such as happiness or disappointment, in particular areas of the brain. Wearable technologies, such as Spire, offer data-driven advice on how to reduce stress.We are no longer just dealing with “happiness” in a philosophical or romantic sense — it has become something that can be monitored and measured, including by our behavior, use of social media and bodily indicators such as pulse rate and facial expressions.There is nothing automatically sinister about this trend. But it is disquieting that the businesses and experts driving the quantification of happiness claim to have our best interests at heart, often concealing their own agendas in the process. In the workplace, happy workers are viewed as a “winwin.” Work becomes more pleasant, and employees, more productive. But this is now being pursued through the use of performance-evaluating wearable technology, such as Humanyze or Virgin Pulse, both of which monitor physical signs of stress and activity toward the goal of increasing productivity.Cities such as Dubai, which has pledged to become the “happiest city in the world,” dream up ever-more elaborate and intrusive ways of collecting data on well-being — to the point where there is now talk of using CCTV cameras to monitor facial expressions in public spaces. New ways of detecting emotions are hitting the market all the time: One company, Beyond Verbal, aims to calculate moods conveyed in a phone conversation, potentially without the knowledge of at least one of the participants. And Facebook [has] demonstrated.. . that it could influence our emotions through tweaking our news feeds — opening the door to ever-more targeted manipulation in advertising and influence.As the science grows more sophisticated and technologies become more intimate with our thoughts and bodies, a clear trend is emerging. Where happiness indicators were once used as a basis to reform society, challenging the obsession with money that G.D.P. measurement entrenches, they are increasingly used as a basis to transform or discipline individuals.(2018)Q.The author’s view would be undermined by which of the following research findings?

DIRECTIONS: Read the passage and answer the questions based on it.Economists have spent most of the 20th century ignoring psychology, positive or otherwise. But today there is a great deal of emphasis on how happiness can shape global economies, or — on a smaller scale — successful business practice. This is driven, in part, by a trend in “measuring” positive emotions, mostly so they can be optimized. Neuroscientists, for example, claim to be able to locate specific emotions, such as happiness or disappointment, in particular areas of the brain. Wearable technologies, such as Spire, offer data-driven advice on how to reduce stress.We are no longer just dealing with “happiness” in a philosophical or romantic sense — it has become something that can be monitored and measured, including by our behavior, use of social media and bodily indicators such as pulse rate and facial expressions.There is nothing automatically sinister about this trend. But it is disquieting that the businesses and experts driving the quantification of happiness claim to have our best interests at heart, often concealing their own agendas in the process. In the workplace, happy workers are viewed as a “winwin.” Work becomes more pleasant, and employees, more productive. But this is now being pursued through the use of performance-evaluating wearable technology, such as Humanyze or Virgin Pulse, both of which monitor physical signs of stress and activity toward the goal of increasing productivity.Cities such as Dubai, which has pledged to become the “happiest city in the world,” dream up ever-more elaborate and intrusive ways of collecting data on well-being — to the point where there is now talk of using CCTV cameras to monitor facial expressions in public spaces. New ways of detecting emotions are hitting the market all the time: One company, Beyond Verbal, aims to calculate moods conveyed in a phone conversation, potentially without the knowledge of at least one of the participants. And Facebook [has] demonstrated.. . that it could influence our emotions through tweaking our news feeds — opening the door to ever-more targeted manipulation in advertising and influence.As the science grows more sophisticated and technologies become more intimate with our thoughts and bodies, a clear trend is emerging. Where happiness indicators were once used as a basis to reform society, challenging the obsession with money that G.D.P. measurement entrenches, they are increasingly used as a basis to transform or discipline individuals.(2018)Q.According to the author, Dubai

Top Courses for CATView all

Top Courses for CAT

Directions:The passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best answer to each question.Philosophical games aside, the practical importance of understanding the brain basis of consciousness is easy to appreciate. General anaesthesia has to count as one of the greatest inventions of all time. Less happily, distressing disturbances of consciousness can accompany brain injuries and mental illnesses for the increasing number of us, me included, who encounter these conditions. And for each one of us, conscious experiences change throughout life, from the blooming and buzzing confusion of early life, through the apparent though probably illusory and certainly not universal clarity of adulthood, and on to our final drift into the gradual — and for some, disorientingly rapid — dissolution of the self as neurodegenerative decay sets in.At each stage in this process, you exist, but the notion that there is a single unique conscious self (a soul?) that persists over time may be grossly mistaken. Indeed, one of the most compelling aspects of the mystery of consciousness is the nature of self. Is consciousness possible withoutself-consciousness? And if so, would it still matter so much?Answers to difficult questions like these have many implications for how we think about the world and the life it contains. When does consciousness begin in development? Does it emerge at birth, or is it present even in the womb? What about consciousness in nonhuman animals — and not just in primates and other mammals, but in otherworldly creatures like the octopus and perhaps even in simple organisms such as nematode worms or bacteria?Despite his now-tarnished reputation among neuroscientists, Sigmund Freud was right about many things. Looking back through the history of science, he identified three "strikes" against the perceived self-importance of the human species, each marking a major scientific advance that was strongly resisted at the time.The first was by Copernicus, who showed with his heliocentric theory that the Earth rotates around the sun and not the other way around. With this dawned the realisation that we are not at the centre of the universe; we are just a speck somewhere out there in the vastness, a pale blue dot suspended in the abyss.Next came Darwin, who revealed that we share common ancestry with all other living things, a realisation that is — astonishingly — still resisted in some parts of the world even today.Immodestly, Freuds third strike against human exceptionalism was his own theory of the unconscious mind, which challenged the idea that our mental lives are under our conscious, rational control. While he may have been off target in the details, he was absolutely right to point out that a naturalistic explanation of mind and consciousness would be a further, and perhaps final, dethronement of humankind.These shifts in how we see ourselves are to be welcomed. With each new advance in our understanding comes a new sense of wonder and a new ability to see ourselves as lessapart from —and morea part of— the rest of nature.Our conscious experiences are part of nature just as our bodies are, just as our world is. And when life ends, consciousness will end too. When I think about this, I am transported back to my experience — mynon-experience — of anaesthesia. To its oblivion, perhaps comforting, but oblivion nonetheless. The novelist Julian Barnes, in his meditation on mortality, puts it perfectly. When the end of consciousness comes, there is nothing — reallynothing —to be frightened of.Q.Which one of the following best describes the word oblivion in the context of the passage?a)A state of mind where one is completely unaware of ones surroundingsb)A situation where one experiences ecstasy and pure blissc)A situation where one completely loses control over ones surroundingsd)A state of mind where one is able to escape the realityCorrect answer is option 'A'. Can you explain this answer?
Question Description
Directions:The passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best answer to each question.Philosophical games aside, the practical importance of understanding the brain basis of consciousness is easy to appreciate. General anaesthesia has to count as one of the greatest inventions of all time. Less happily, distressing disturbances of consciousness can accompany brain injuries and mental illnesses for the increasing number of us, me included, who encounter these conditions. And for each one of us, conscious experiences change throughout life, from the blooming and buzzing confusion of early life, through the apparent though probably illusory and certainly not universal clarity of adulthood, and on to our final drift into the gradual — and for some, disorientingly rapid — dissolution of the self as neurodegenerative decay sets in.At each stage in this process, you exist, but the notion that there is a single unique conscious self (a soul?) that persists over time may be grossly mistaken. Indeed, one of the most compelling aspects of the mystery of consciousness is the nature of self. Is consciousness possible withoutself-consciousness? And if so, would it still matter so much?Answers to difficult questions like these have many implications for how we think about the world and the life it contains. When does consciousness begin in development? Does it emerge at birth, or is it present even in the womb? What about consciousness in nonhuman animals — and not just in primates and other mammals, but in otherworldly creatures like the octopus and perhaps even in simple organisms such as nematode worms or bacteria?Despite his now-tarnished reputation among neuroscientists, Sigmund Freud was right about many things. Looking back through the history of science, he identified three "strikes" against the perceived self-importance of the human species, each marking a major scientific advance that was strongly resisted at the time.The first was by Copernicus, who showed with his heliocentric theory that the Earth rotates around the sun and not the other way around. With this dawned the realisation that we are not at the centre of the universe; we are just a speck somewhere out there in the vastness, a pale blue dot suspended in the abyss.Next came Darwin, who revealed that we share common ancestry with all other living things, a realisation that is — astonishingly — still resisted in some parts of the world even today.Immodestly, Freuds third strike against human exceptionalism was his own theory of the unconscious mind, which challenged the idea that our mental lives are under our conscious, rational control. While he may have been off target in the details, he was absolutely right to point out that a naturalistic explanation of mind and consciousness would be a further, and perhaps final, dethronement of humankind.These shifts in how we see ourselves are to be welcomed. With each new advance in our understanding comes a new sense of wonder and a new ability to see ourselves as lessapart from —and morea part of— the rest of nature.Our conscious experiences are part of nature just as our bodies are, just as our world is. And when life ends, consciousness will end too. When I think about this, I am transported back to my experience — mynon-experience — of anaesthesia. To its oblivion, perhaps comforting, but oblivion nonetheless. The novelist Julian Barnes, in his meditation on mortality, puts it perfectly. When the end of consciousness comes, there is nothing — reallynothing —to be frightened of.Q.Which one of the following best describes the word oblivion in the context of the passage?a)A state of mind where one is completely unaware of ones surroundingsb)A situation where one experiences ecstasy and pure blissc)A situation where one completely loses control over ones surroundingsd)A state of mind where one is able to escape the realityCorrect answer is option 'A'. Can you explain this answer? for CAT 2024 is part of CAT preparation. The Question and answers have been prepared according to the CAT exam syllabus. Information about Directions:The passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best answer to each question.Philosophical games aside, the practical importance of understanding the brain basis of consciousness is easy to appreciate. General anaesthesia has to count as one of the greatest inventions of all time. Less happily, distressing disturbances of consciousness can accompany brain injuries and mental illnesses for the increasing number of us, me included, who encounter these conditions. And for each one of us, conscious experiences change throughout life, from the blooming and buzzing confusion of early life, through the apparent though probably illusory and certainly not universal clarity of adulthood, and on to our final drift into the gradual — and for some, disorientingly rapid — dissolution of the self as neurodegenerative decay sets in.At each stage in this process, you exist, but the notion that there is a single unique conscious self (a soul?) that persists over time may be grossly mistaken. Indeed, one of the most compelling aspects of the mystery of consciousness is the nature of self. Is consciousness possible withoutself-consciousness? And if so, would it still matter so much?Answers to difficult questions like these have many implications for how we think about the world and the life it contains. When does consciousness begin in development? Does it emerge at birth, or is it present even in the womb? What about consciousness in nonhuman animals — and not just in primates and other mammals, but in otherworldly creatures like the octopus and perhaps even in simple organisms such as nematode worms or bacteria?Despite his now-tarnished reputation among neuroscientists, Sigmund Freud was right about many things. Looking back through the history of science, he identified three "strikes" against the perceived self-importance of the human species, each marking a major scientific advance that was strongly resisted at the time.The first was by Copernicus, who showed with his heliocentric theory that the Earth rotates around the sun and not the other way around. With this dawned the realisation that we are not at the centre of the universe; we are just a speck somewhere out there in the vastness, a pale blue dot suspended in the abyss.Next came Darwin, who revealed that we share common ancestry with all other living things, a realisation that is — astonishingly — still resisted in some parts of the world even today.Immodestly, Freuds third strike against human exceptionalism was his own theory of the unconscious mind, which challenged the idea that our mental lives are under our conscious, rational control. While he may have been off target in the details, he was absolutely right to point out that a naturalistic explanation of mind and consciousness would be a further, and perhaps final, dethronement of humankind.These shifts in how we see ourselves are to be welcomed. With each new advance in our understanding comes a new sense of wonder and a new ability to see ourselves as lessapart from —and morea part of— the rest of nature.Our conscious experiences are part of nature just as our bodies are, just as our world is. And when life ends, consciousness will end too. When I think about this, I am transported back to my experience — mynon-experience — of anaesthesia. To its oblivion, perhaps comforting, but oblivion nonetheless. The novelist Julian Barnes, in his meditation on mortality, puts it perfectly. When the end of consciousness comes, there is nothing — reallynothing —to be frightened of.Q.Which one of the following best describes the word oblivion in the context of the passage?a)A state of mind where one is completely unaware of ones surroundingsb)A situation where one experiences ecstasy and pure blissc)A situation where one completely loses control over ones surroundingsd)A state of mind where one is able to escape the realityCorrect answer is option 'A'. Can you explain this answer? covers all topics & solutions for CAT 2024 Exam. Find important definitions, questions, meanings, examples, exercises and tests below for Directions:The passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best answer to each question.Philosophical games aside, the practical importance of understanding the brain basis of consciousness is easy to appreciate. General anaesthesia has to count as one of the greatest inventions of all time. Less happily, distressing disturbances of consciousness can accompany brain injuries and mental illnesses for the increasing number of us, me included, who encounter these conditions. And for each one of us, conscious experiences change throughout life, from the blooming and buzzing confusion of early life, through the apparent though probably illusory and certainly not universal clarity of adulthood, and on to our final drift into the gradual — and for some, disorientingly rapid — dissolution of the self as neurodegenerative decay sets in.At each stage in this process, you exist, but the notion that there is a single unique conscious self (a soul?) that persists over time may be grossly mistaken. Indeed, one of the most compelling aspects of the mystery of consciousness is the nature of self. Is consciousness possible withoutself-consciousness? And if so, would it still matter so much?Answers to difficult questions like these have many implications for how we think about the world and the life it contains. When does consciousness begin in development? Does it emerge at birth, or is it present even in the womb? What about consciousness in nonhuman animals — and not just in primates and other mammals, but in otherworldly creatures like the octopus and perhaps even in simple organisms such as nematode worms or bacteria?Despite his now-tarnished reputation among neuroscientists, Sigmund Freud was right about many things. Looking back through the history of science, he identified three "strikes" against the perceived self-importance of the human species, each marking a major scientific advance that was strongly resisted at the time.The first was by Copernicus, who showed with his heliocentric theory that the Earth rotates around the sun and not the other way around. With this dawned the realisation that we are not at the centre of the universe; we are just a speck somewhere out there in the vastness, a pale blue dot suspended in the abyss.Next came Darwin, who revealed that we share common ancestry with all other living things, a realisation that is — astonishingly — still resisted in some parts of the world even today.Immodestly, Freuds third strike against human exceptionalism was his own theory of the unconscious mind, which challenged the idea that our mental lives are under our conscious, rational control. While he may have been off target in the details, he was absolutely right to point out that a naturalistic explanation of mind and consciousness would be a further, and perhaps final, dethronement of humankind.These shifts in how we see ourselves are to be welcomed. With each new advance in our understanding comes a new sense of wonder and a new ability to see ourselves as lessapart from —and morea part of— the rest of nature.Our conscious experiences are part of nature just as our bodies are, just as our world is. And when life ends, consciousness will end too. When I think about this, I am transported back to my experience — mynon-experience — of anaesthesia. To its oblivion, perhaps comforting, but oblivion nonetheless. The novelist Julian Barnes, in his meditation on mortality, puts it perfectly. When the end of consciousness comes, there is nothing — reallynothing —to be frightened of.Q.Which one of the following best describes the word oblivion in the context of the passage?a)A state of mind where one is completely unaware of ones surroundingsb)A situation where one experiences ecstasy and pure blissc)A situation where one completely loses control over ones surroundingsd)A state of mind where one is able to escape the realityCorrect answer is option 'A'. Can you explain this answer?.
Solutions for Directions:The passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best answer to each question.Philosophical games aside, the practical importance of understanding the brain basis of consciousness is easy to appreciate. General anaesthesia has to count as one of the greatest inventions of all time. Less happily, distressing disturbances of consciousness can accompany brain injuries and mental illnesses for the increasing number of us, me included, who encounter these conditions. And for each one of us, conscious experiences change throughout life, from the blooming and buzzing confusion of early life, through the apparent though probably illusory and certainly not universal clarity of adulthood, and on to our final drift into the gradual — and for some, disorientingly rapid — dissolution of the self as neurodegenerative decay sets in.At each stage in this process, you exist, but the notion that there is a single unique conscious self (a soul?) that persists over time may be grossly mistaken. Indeed, one of the most compelling aspects of the mystery of consciousness is the nature of self. Is consciousness possible withoutself-consciousness? And if so, would it still matter so much?Answers to difficult questions like these have many implications for how we think about the world and the life it contains. When does consciousness begin in development? Does it emerge at birth, or is it present even in the womb? What about consciousness in nonhuman animals — and not just in primates and other mammals, but in otherworldly creatures like the octopus and perhaps even in simple organisms such as nematode worms or bacteria?Despite his now-tarnished reputation among neuroscientists, Sigmund Freud was right about many things. Looking back through the history of science, he identified three "strikes" against the perceived self-importance of the human species, each marking a major scientific advance that was strongly resisted at the time.The first was by Copernicus, who showed with his heliocentric theory that the Earth rotates around the sun and not the other way around. With this dawned the realisation that we are not at the centre of the universe; we are just a speck somewhere out there in the vastness, a pale blue dot suspended in the abyss.Next came Darwin, who revealed that we share common ancestry with all other living things, a realisation that is — astonishingly — still resisted in some parts of the world even today.Immodestly, Freuds third strike against human exceptionalism was his own theory of the unconscious mind, which challenged the idea that our mental lives are under our conscious, rational control. While he may have been off target in the details, he was absolutely right to point out that a naturalistic explanation of mind and consciousness would be a further, and perhaps final, dethronement of humankind.These shifts in how we see ourselves are to be welcomed. With each new advance in our understanding comes a new sense of wonder and a new ability to see ourselves as lessapart from —and morea part of— the rest of nature.Our conscious experiences are part of nature just as our bodies are, just as our world is. And when life ends, consciousness will end too. When I think about this, I am transported back to my experience — mynon-experience — of anaesthesia. To its oblivion, perhaps comforting, but oblivion nonetheless. The novelist Julian Barnes, in his meditation on mortality, puts it perfectly. When the end of consciousness comes, there is nothing — reallynothing —to be frightened of.Q.Which one of the following best describes the word oblivion in the context of the passage?a)A state of mind where one is completely unaware of ones surroundingsb)A situation where one experiences ecstasy and pure blissc)A situation where one completely loses control over ones surroundingsd)A state of mind where one is able to escape the realityCorrect answer is option 'A'. Can you explain this answer? in English & in Hindi are available as part of our courses for CAT. Download more important topics, notes, lectures and mock test series for CAT Exam by signing up for free.
Here you can find the meaning of Directions:The passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best answer to each question.Philosophical games aside, the practical importance of understanding the brain basis of consciousness is easy to appreciate. General anaesthesia has to count as one of the greatest inventions of all time. Less happily, distressing disturbances of consciousness can accompany brain injuries and mental illnesses for the increasing number of us, me included, who encounter these conditions. And for each one of us, conscious experiences change throughout life, from the blooming and buzzing confusion of early life, through the apparent though probably illusory and certainly not universal clarity of adulthood, and on to our final drift into the gradual — and for some, disorientingly rapid — dissolution of the self as neurodegenerative decay sets in.At each stage in this process, you exist, but the notion that there is a single unique conscious self (a soul?) that persists over time may be grossly mistaken. Indeed, one of the most compelling aspects of the mystery of consciousness is the nature of self. Is consciousness possible withoutself-consciousness? And if so, would it still matter so much?Answers to difficult questions like these have many implications for how we think about the world and the life it contains. When does consciousness begin in development? Does it emerge at birth, or is it present even in the womb? What about consciousness in nonhuman animals — and not just in primates and other mammals, but in otherworldly creatures like the octopus and perhaps even in simple organisms such as nematode worms or bacteria?Despite his now-tarnished reputation among neuroscientists, Sigmund Freud was right about many things. Looking back through the history of science, he identified three "strikes" against the perceived self-importance of the human species, each marking a major scientific advance that was strongly resisted at the time.The first was by Copernicus, who showed with his heliocentric theory that the Earth rotates around the sun and not the other way around. With this dawned the realisation that we are not at the centre of the universe; we are just a speck somewhere out there in the vastness, a pale blue dot suspended in the abyss.Next came Darwin, who revealed that we share common ancestry with all other living things, a realisation that is — astonishingly — still resisted in some parts of the world even today.Immodestly, Freuds third strike against human exceptionalism was his own theory of the unconscious mind, which challenged the idea that our mental lives are under our conscious, rational control. While he may have been off target in the details, he was absolutely right to point out that a naturalistic explanation of mind and consciousness would be a further, and perhaps final, dethronement of humankind.These shifts in how we see ourselves are to be welcomed. With each new advance in our understanding comes a new sense of wonder and a new ability to see ourselves as lessapart from —and morea part of— the rest of nature.Our conscious experiences are part of nature just as our bodies are, just as our world is. And when life ends, consciousness will end too. When I think about this, I am transported back to my experience — mynon-experience — of anaesthesia. To its oblivion, perhaps comforting, but oblivion nonetheless. The novelist Julian Barnes, in his meditation on mortality, puts it perfectly. When the end of consciousness comes, there is nothing — reallynothing —to be frightened of.Q.Which one of the following best describes the word oblivion in the context of the passage?a)A state of mind where one is completely unaware of ones surroundingsb)A situation where one experiences ecstasy and pure blissc)A situation where one completely loses control over ones surroundingsd)A state of mind where one is able to escape the realityCorrect answer is option 'A'. Can you explain this answer? defined & explained in the simplest way possible. Besides giving the explanation of Directions:The passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best answer to each question.Philosophical games aside, the practical importance of understanding the brain basis of consciousness is easy to appreciate. General anaesthesia has to count as one of the greatest inventions of all time. Less happily, distressing disturbances of consciousness can accompany brain injuries and mental illnesses for the increasing number of us, me included, who encounter these conditions. And for each one of us, conscious experiences change throughout life, from the blooming and buzzing confusion of early life, through the apparent though probably illusory and certainly not universal clarity of adulthood, and on to our final drift into the gradual — and for some, disorientingly rapid — dissolution of the self as neurodegenerative decay sets in.At each stage in this process, you exist, but the notion that there is a single unique conscious self (a soul?) that persists over time may be grossly mistaken. Indeed, one of the most compelling aspects of the mystery of consciousness is the nature of self. Is consciousness possible withoutself-consciousness? And if so, would it still matter so much?Answers to difficult questions like these have many implications for how we think about the world and the life it contains. When does consciousness begin in development? Does it emerge at birth, or is it present even in the womb? What about consciousness in nonhuman animals — and not just in primates and other mammals, but in otherworldly creatures like the octopus and perhaps even in simple organisms such as nematode worms or bacteria?Despite his now-tarnished reputation among neuroscientists, Sigmund Freud was right about many things. Looking back through the history of science, he identified three "strikes" against the perceived self-importance of the human species, each marking a major scientific advance that was strongly resisted at the time.The first was by Copernicus, who showed with his heliocentric theory that the Earth rotates around the sun and not the other way around. With this dawned the realisation that we are not at the centre of the universe; we are just a speck somewhere out there in the vastness, a pale blue dot suspended in the abyss.Next came Darwin, who revealed that we share common ancestry with all other living things, a realisation that is — astonishingly — still resisted in some parts of the world even today.Immodestly, Freuds third strike against human exceptionalism was his own theory of the unconscious mind, which challenged the idea that our mental lives are under our conscious, rational control. While he may have been off target in the details, he was absolutely right to point out that a naturalistic explanation of mind and consciousness would be a further, and perhaps final, dethronement of humankind.These shifts in how we see ourselves are to be welcomed. With each new advance in our understanding comes a new sense of wonder and a new ability to see ourselves as lessapart from —and morea part of— the rest of nature.Our conscious experiences are part of nature just as our bodies are, just as our world is. And when life ends, consciousness will end too. When I think about this, I am transported back to my experience — mynon-experience — of anaesthesia. To its oblivion, perhaps comforting, but oblivion nonetheless. The novelist Julian Barnes, in his meditation on mortality, puts it perfectly. When the end of consciousness comes, there is nothing — reallynothing —to be frightened of.Q.Which one of the following best describes the word oblivion in the context of the passage?a)A state of mind where one is completely unaware of ones surroundingsb)A situation where one experiences ecstasy and pure blissc)A situation where one completely loses control over ones surroundingsd)A state of mind where one is able to escape the realityCorrect answer is option 'A'. Can you explain this answer?, a detailed solution for Directions:The passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best answer to each question.Philosophical games aside, the practical importance of understanding the brain basis of consciousness is easy to appreciate. General anaesthesia has to count as one of the greatest inventions of all time. Less happily, distressing disturbances of consciousness can accompany brain injuries and mental illnesses for the increasing number of us, me included, who encounter these conditions. And for each one of us, conscious experiences change throughout life, from the blooming and buzzing confusion of early life, through the apparent though probably illusory and certainly not universal clarity of adulthood, and on to our final drift into the gradual — and for some, disorientingly rapid — dissolution of the self as neurodegenerative decay sets in.At each stage in this process, you exist, but the notion that there is a single unique conscious self (a soul?) that persists over time may be grossly mistaken. Indeed, one of the most compelling aspects of the mystery of consciousness is the nature of self. Is consciousness possible withoutself-consciousness? And if so, would it still matter so much?Answers to difficult questions like these have many implications for how we think about the world and the life it contains. When does consciousness begin in development? Does it emerge at birth, or is it present even in the womb? What about consciousness in nonhuman animals — and not just in primates and other mammals, but in otherworldly creatures like the octopus and perhaps even in simple organisms such as nematode worms or bacteria?Despite his now-tarnished reputation among neuroscientists, Sigmund Freud was right about many things. Looking back through the history of science, he identified three "strikes" against the perceived self-importance of the human species, each marking a major scientific advance that was strongly resisted at the time.The first was by Copernicus, who showed with his heliocentric theory that the Earth rotates around the sun and not the other way around. With this dawned the realisation that we are not at the centre of the universe; we are just a speck somewhere out there in the vastness, a pale blue dot suspended in the abyss.Next came Darwin, who revealed that we share common ancestry with all other living things, a realisation that is — astonishingly — still resisted in some parts of the world even today.Immodestly, Freuds third strike against human exceptionalism was his own theory of the unconscious mind, which challenged the idea that our mental lives are under our conscious, rational control. While he may have been off target in the details, he was absolutely right to point out that a naturalistic explanation of mind and consciousness would be a further, and perhaps final, dethronement of humankind.These shifts in how we see ourselves are to be welcomed. With each new advance in our understanding comes a new sense of wonder and a new ability to see ourselves as lessapart from —and morea part of— the rest of nature.Our conscious experiences are part of nature just as our bodies are, just as our world is. And when life ends, consciousness will end too. When I think about this, I am transported back to my experience — mynon-experience — of anaesthesia. To its oblivion, perhaps comforting, but oblivion nonetheless. The novelist Julian Barnes, in his meditation on mortality, puts it perfectly. When the end of consciousness comes, there is nothing — reallynothing —to be frightened of.Q.Which one of the following best describes the word oblivion in the context of the passage?a)A state of mind where one is completely unaware of ones surroundingsb)A situation where one experiences ecstasy and pure blissc)A situation where one completely loses control over ones surroundingsd)A state of mind where one is able to escape the realityCorrect answer is option 'A'. Can you explain this answer? has been provided alongside types of Directions:The passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best answer to each question.Philosophical games aside, the practical importance of understanding the brain basis of consciousness is easy to appreciate. General anaesthesia has to count as one of the greatest inventions of all time. Less happily, distressing disturbances of consciousness can accompany brain injuries and mental illnesses for the increasing number of us, me included, who encounter these conditions. And for each one of us, conscious experiences change throughout life, from the blooming and buzzing confusion of early life, through the apparent though probably illusory and certainly not universal clarity of adulthood, and on to our final drift into the gradual — and for some, disorientingly rapid — dissolution of the self as neurodegenerative decay sets in.At each stage in this process, you exist, but the notion that there is a single unique conscious self (a soul?) that persists over time may be grossly mistaken. Indeed, one of the most compelling aspects of the mystery of consciousness is the nature of self. Is consciousness possible withoutself-consciousness? And if so, would it still matter so much?Answers to difficult questions like these have many implications for how we think about the world and the life it contains. When does consciousness begin in development? Does it emerge at birth, or is it present even in the womb? What about consciousness in nonhuman animals — and not just in primates and other mammals, but in otherworldly creatures like the octopus and perhaps even in simple organisms such as nematode worms or bacteria?Despite his now-tarnished reputation among neuroscientists, Sigmund Freud was right about many things. Looking back through the history of science, he identified three "strikes" against the perceived self-importance of the human species, each marking a major scientific advance that was strongly resisted at the time.The first was by Copernicus, who showed with his heliocentric theory that the Earth rotates around the sun and not the other way around. With this dawned the realisation that we are not at the centre of the universe; we are just a speck somewhere out there in the vastness, a pale blue dot suspended in the abyss.Next came Darwin, who revealed that we share common ancestry with all other living things, a realisation that is — astonishingly — still resisted in some parts of the world even today.Immodestly, Freuds third strike against human exceptionalism was his own theory of the unconscious mind, which challenged the idea that our mental lives are under our conscious, rational control. While he may have been off target in the details, he was absolutely right to point out that a naturalistic explanation of mind and consciousness would be a further, and perhaps final, dethronement of humankind.These shifts in how we see ourselves are to be welcomed. With each new advance in our understanding comes a new sense of wonder and a new ability to see ourselves as lessapart from —and morea part of— the rest of nature.Our conscious experiences are part of nature just as our bodies are, just as our world is. And when life ends, consciousness will end too. When I think about this, I am transported back to my experience — mynon-experience — of anaesthesia. To its oblivion, perhaps comforting, but oblivion nonetheless. The novelist Julian Barnes, in his meditation on mortality, puts it perfectly. When the end of consciousness comes, there is nothing — reallynothing —to be frightened of.Q.Which one of the following best describes the word oblivion in the context of the passage?a)A state of mind where one is completely unaware of ones surroundingsb)A situation where one experiences ecstasy and pure blissc)A situation where one completely loses control over ones surroundingsd)A state of mind where one is able to escape the realityCorrect answer is option 'A'. Can you explain this answer? theory, EduRev gives you an ample number of questions to practice Directions:The passage below is accompanied by a set of questions. Choose the best answer to each question.Philosophical games aside, the practical importance of understanding the brain basis of consciousness is easy to appreciate. General anaesthesia has to count as one of the greatest inventions of all time. Less happily, distressing disturbances of consciousness can accompany brain injuries and mental illnesses for the increasing number of us, me included, who encounter these conditions. And for each one of us, conscious experiences change throughout life, from the blooming and buzzing confusion of early life, through the apparent though probably illusory and certainly not universal clarity of adulthood, and on to our final drift into the gradual — and for some, disorientingly rapid — dissolution of the self as neurodegenerative decay sets in.At each stage in this process, you exist, but the notion that there is a single unique conscious self (a soul?) that persists over time may be grossly mistaken. Indeed, one of the most compelling aspects of the mystery of consciousness is the nature of self. Is consciousness possible withoutself-consciousness? And if so, would it still matter so much?Answers to difficult questions like these have many implications for how we think about the world and the life it contains. When does consciousness begin in development? Does it emerge at birth, or is it present even in the womb? What about consciousness in nonhuman animals — and not just in primates and other mammals, but in otherworldly creatures like the octopus and perhaps even in simple organisms such as nematode worms or bacteria?Despite his now-tarnished reputation among neuroscientists, Sigmund Freud was right about many things. Looking back through the history of science, he identified three "strikes" against the perceived self-importance of the human species, each marking a major scientific advance that was strongly resisted at the time.The first was by Copernicus, who showed with his heliocentric theory that the Earth rotates around the sun and not the other way around. With this dawned the realisation that we are not at the centre of the universe; we are just a speck somewhere out there in the vastness, a pale blue dot suspended in the abyss.Next came Darwin, who revealed that we share common ancestry with all other living things, a realisation that is — astonishingly — still resisted in some parts of the world even today.Immodestly, Freuds third strike against human exceptionalism was his own theory of the unconscious mind, which challenged the idea that our mental lives are under our conscious, rational control. While he may have been off target in the details, he was absolutely right to point out that a naturalistic explanation of mind and consciousness would be a further, and perhaps final, dethronement of humankind.These shifts in how we see ourselves are to be welcomed. With each new advance in our understanding comes a new sense of wonder and a new ability to see ourselves as lessapart from —and morea part of— the rest of nature.Our conscious experiences are part of nature just as our bodies are, just as our world is. And when life ends, consciousness will end too. When I think about this, I am transported back to my experience — mynon-experience — of anaesthesia. To its oblivion, perhaps comforting, but oblivion nonetheless. The novelist Julian Barnes, in his meditation on mortality, puts it perfectly. When the end of consciousness comes, there is nothing — reallynothing —to be frightened of.Q.Which one of the following best describes the word oblivion in the context of the passage?a)A state of mind where one is completely unaware of ones surroundingsb)A situation where one experiences ecstasy and pure blissc)A situation where one completely loses control over ones surroundingsd)A state of mind where one is able to escape the realityCorrect answer is option 'A'. Can you explain this answer? tests, examples and also practice CAT tests.
Explore Courses for CAT exam

Top Courses for CAT

Explore Courses

Suggested Free Tests

Signup for Free!
Signup to see your scores go up within 7 days! Learn & Practice with 1000+ FREE Notes, Videos & Tests.
10M+ students study on EduRev
Get App
© EduRev
Education Revolution
Follow Us
Signup to see your scores go up within 7 days!
Access 1000+ FREE Docs, Videos and Tests
Takes less than 10 seconds to signup