2011-2012第一学期综合英语(3)课文

Unit 1

T

ext A

A

Kind of Sermon

by

The author is not a preacher, and yet he does deliver a kind of sermon here. Who is his audience?

Interestingly, his audience is your teachers of Advanced English as a foreign language. The author seeks

to help them in their difficult task of teaching advanced students, their task of leading their students to a

higher lever of ability and fluency.

Does

it

encourage

you

to

know

that

you

are

not

the

only

one

who

is

struggling

at

this

level

of

language acquisition?

1

It is probably easier for teachers than for students to appreciate the reasons why learning English seems

to become increasingly difficult once the basic structures and patterns of the language have been

understood.

Students are naturally surprised and disappointed to discover that a process which ought to become simpler

does not appear to do so.

2

It may not seem much consolation to point out that the teacher

, too, becomes frustrated when his efforts

appear to produce less obvious results. He finds that students who were easy to teach, because they succeeded

in

putting

everything

they

had been

taught

into

practice,

hesitate

when

confronted

with

the

vast

untouched

area

of

English

vocabulary

and

usage

which

falls

outside

the

scope

of

basic

textbooks.

He

sees

them

struggling because the language they thought they knew now appears to consist of a bewildering variety of

idioms, cliché

d and accepted phrases with different meanings in different contexts. It is hard to convince them

that they are still making progress towards fluency and that their English is certain to improve, given time and

dedication.

3

In

such

circumstances

it

is

hardly

surprising

that

some

give

up

in

disgust,

while

others

still

wait

hopefully

for

the

teacher

to

give

them

the same

confident

guidance

he

was

able

to offer

them at

first.

The

teacher,

for

his

part,

frequently

reduced

to

trying

to

explain

the

inexplicable,

may

take

refuge

in

quoting

proverbs to his colleagues such as:

ou can lead a horse to water but you can't what y

ou say

. It's the way that

you say it.

.

4

Of course this is not true. What both students and teachers are experiencing is the recognition that the

more complex structures one encounters in a language are not as vital to making oneself understood and so

have

a

less

immediate

field

of application.

For

the

same

reason,

from

the

teacher's point o

view,

selecting

what should be taught becomes a more difficult task. It is much easier to get food of any kind than to choose

the dish you would most like to eat on a given day from a vast menu.

5

Defining the problem is easier than

providing the solution. One can suggest th

at students should spend

two or

three

years

in

an

English-speaking

country

,

which

amounts

to

washing

one's

hands

of

them. Few

students have the time or the money to do that. It is often said that wide reading is the time or the money to do

that. It is often said that wide reading

is the best alternative course of action but even here it is necessary to

make some kind of selection. It is no use telling students to go to the library and pick u

p the first book they

come across. My own advice to them would be:

words in a dictionary (but not what you

can understand at a glance); read what interests you; read what y

ou

have time for (magazines an

d newspapers rather than

novels unless you

can read the whole novel in a week

or so); read the English written today

, not 200 years ago; read as much as you can and try to remember the

way it was written

rather than

individual words that puzzled you.

say

6

My

advice to teach

ers would be similar in a way

. I would say

do, or that all language is useful. It's no good relying on students to express themselves without the right tools

for ex

pression. It's still your duty to choose the best path

to follow near the top of the mountain just as it was

to propose a practicable short-cut away from the beaten track in the foothills. And if the path you choose is

too overgrown to make further progress, the whole party will have to go back an

d you will have to choose

another route. Y

ou are still the paid guide and ex

pert an

d there is a way to the top somewhere.

Unit 2

Text A

Argum

ent

Where exposition

explains

and

judgment

unfolds

a

question

and

measures

out an

answer, argument

persuades.

More

exactly,

it

persuades

by

ap

pealing

to

reason.

To

reason

─

the

restriction

is

important,

distinguishing argumentation from other types of persuasive writing that aim rather at our emotions than at

our minds. With emotion argumentation has little to do. Its task is, by the use of reason

, to defend what is true

and to attack what is false.

The essence of the argument, then, is reason, and reason may work in two ways: by deduction and by

induction. The first argues from general premise to particular conclusion; the second from particular fact to

broad conclusion. The writer desiring to argue effectively must understand both.

Deductive

argumentation

is

usually

cast

in

the

form

of

a

logical

syllogism.

At

its

simplest

a

syllogism

contains two premises and an inference that necessarily follows from them. For example:

1. All hatters are mad.

2. X is a hatter.

3. Therefore X is mad.

If the major premise (1) and the minor premise (2) are true, the inference, or conclusion, (3) has g

ot to be

true, for the inference is logically valid. Logical validity, however, is not the same thing as empirical truth.

Since

all

hatters

are

not

mad,

the

factual

truth

of

the

conclusion

about

X

is

open

to question. Syllogistic

reasoning,

in

short,

is

no

sounder

than

the premises

upon

which

it

rests.

The

writer

arguing

logically

must

begin from premises not easily denied by

his opponents.

In

working

from

these

premises

he

must

proceed carefully.

It

is

not

hard

to

make

mistakes ─ called

fallacies ─ in getting from premise to conclusion. Many arguments involve a ch

ain of interlocked syllogisms,

each more complicated than that about X the hatter. In most arguments the rigid form of the syllogism will be

replaced by a more fluid prose, an

d here and there a premise or an inference may be omitted for economy.

Under these conditions fallacies are especially easy to commit. There is no sh

ortcut to learning sound logic.

The student who wishes to argue well should consult a good textbook, master at least the rudiments of

logic,

and train himself to detect the common fallacies.

Exposing

these

fallacies

is

an

effective

way

of

attacking

the

argument of

others. One

such

flaw, quite

frequent and quite easily demonstrated, is self-contradiction. It is a fundamental law of logic that if a is true, a

cannot be no-true. For ex

ample, one cannot argue that th

e Romans were doomed to fall and then assert that

they were fools because they failed to solve the problems that destroyed them. To argue the inevitability of

their decline is to deny the Romans free will, to charge them with folly presupposes that they had the freedom

to choose between

acting wisely or n

ot. All this seems very obvious, yet in more subtle matters a writer can

easily

contradict

himself

without

realizing

it.

To

be

sure

that

he

has

not,

he

must

examine,

not

only

his

argument itself, but all the assumptions which lie beneath it and all the implications which lie within.

About deductive argumentation, then, we may conclude: (1) that it must begin from true premises, and

(2) that it must derive its conclusions from these premises according to the rules of inference. The writer who

ignores either principle is himself open to attack. If his premises are untrue he may be answered factually, if

his conclusions are invalid the fallacy can be revealed.

Inductive

reasoning

is

somewhat

more

common

in

argumentation.

The

method

of

the

scientist

or

the

prosecutor, it begins with facts and builds from them to a general conclusion. In practice a writer will usually

find it more convenient to indicate his conclusion first and then bring forward the evidence which supports it.

This is only a matter of

arrangement, however, an

d does n

ot deny the essential order of

particular to general.

Like the syllogism, induction will be fallacious when it fails to observe certain rules, which may be called the

laws of evidence.

The first, and most obvious, is that evidence must be accurate. The secon

d, more easily forgotten, is that

it must be relevant. relating meaning fully to the conclusion

it is brought forward to support. To prove, for

instance, that women have more accidents than

men, a writer might cite figures which show that they bring

more automobiles to body shops with damaged fender. Granting the accuracy of the evidence, we may still

question its relevancy. It may be that women are afraid of their husbands and hastily repair dents which men

blithely ignore; it may be that most of the dents resulted from accidents with reckless males. Often relevancy

is so obvious that it may be taken for granted, but sometimes, as in this example, the writer must show that his

evidence connects with his conclusion.

The third rule is that evidence must be complete. One of the commonest mistakes in inductive reasoning

is to ignore this rule, especially when dealing with what are called universal affirmative propositions. These

are statements that assert a truth applicable to all members of a class; for example, All students love school.

Such

propositions

can

be proved

only

by

testing

each

member

to

which

they

apply. Since

so complete

a

demonstration

is

generally

impossible,

all

that

can

be

shown

for

most

universal

propositions

is

a

strong

probability. Usually probability will be all the argument requires, but honesty demands that the conclusion be

stated

as

less

than

an

absolute

truth.

In

brief,

a

writer

should

never

phrase

his

premise

even

one

degree

stronger

than

his

evidence

will

support. Writers

who

scorn such

qualifiers

as some or

generally

speaking,

expose themselves to easy

counterattack. Their evidence may in itself be good, but they ride it too hard and

are surprised when it collapses under the strain.

All

evidence,

then

,

must

observe

these rules;

the evidence

itself,

however,

may

take

different

forms.

Three

are

most

frequent:

common

knowledge,

specific

examples,

an

d

statistical

data.

Evidence

is

often

advanced in the form of common knowledge, which may be defined as what is so generally known that it can

safely be asserted without the support of examples or statistical tables. No one can draw the line that separates

common knowledge from particular assertion. It is common knowledge that school is sometime dull. It is a

particular assertion

that crocodiles make fine household pets. Perhaps they

do; still, most of

us would require

proof. Perhaps

the

best

rule

is

this:

if

a

writer

is

doubtful

whether

a

statement

is

common

knowledge

or

assertion, he had better support it with additional specific evidence.

Examples, especially when they are historical, often involve the problem of interpretation. For example,

one might offer General Grant's Wildemess Campaign to support the contention that professional soldiers are

often

unconcerned

with

the

lives

of

their

men.

The

example,

however,

hides an

interpretation:

that

Grant

sacrificed

men

simply

because

he

was

callous.

It

may

well

be

that

Grant

did

care

about

his

troops

and

accepted heavy losses only because he felt them militarily necessary.

Another type of specific evidence often misused is the rhetorical analogy. For clarification or emphasis

an

analogy

is

often

excellent;

for

proof

it

is

meaningless. No

matter

how similar

two things

may

be,

there

must be some differences between them. However slight, these differences deny any possibility of proof. This

does

not

mean

that

analogies

have

no

place

in

argumentation,

simply

that

they

should

be

restricted

to

supporting more legitimate evidence. To do this they must be fair and not force similarities where none exist.

A famous instance of an

unfair, or false, analogy is Thomas Carlyle's comparison of a state to a ship in order

to demonstrate the weakness of democracy. The analogy is used to argue that a state cannot survive danger

unless its leader, like the captain of a ship, has power indepen

dent of majority consent. But ship and states are

very different things, and what may hold at sea does not therefore hold on land. Analogies, then, are valuable

in argument if they are fair and if they are not used for proof.

The

first

sort

of

evidence

is

statistical.

Although

subject

to

the

same

laws

that

g

overn

all

evidence,

statistics are often employed less critically. Consider a very simple case. We wish to answer the charge of the

dented

fenders

and to prove

that,

on

the

contrary,

American

women are sager drivers

than

American

men.

Selecting a small community, we show that in a single year 100 women had accidents as compared to 500

men. The figures seem strong evidence. Yet this town may contain 5000 male drivers and only 500 female

drivers, and if so then only 10 percent of the men had accidents as opposed to 20 percent of the women. Or

perhaps

the

community

is

not

a

typical

sample

of

the

American population;

or

perhaps the police

records

included only

some

accidents,

not all;

or perhaps

these

figures

cover a

wide

range of

accidents,

from

mild

humps to head-on collisions.

Perhaps a great many things. As you se, statistics must be handled carefully. If it is too much to expect

all writers to be trained in statistical method, it is not too much to ask them

to subject any statistical data they

use

to the

common-sense

criteria of

accuracy,

relevancy, and completeness.

So

tested,

statistics

are

good

evidence.

Most

of

the

faults

of

inductive

reasoning

follow

from

ignoring

these

criteria,

or,

even

worse,

from

ignoring the spirit behind them. Induction begins with facts, and it stays with facts until it has established their

truth. It does not select or distort facts to fit a preconceived notion. It is easy, for example, to blame juvenile

delinquency

on

comic

books

by

ignoring

the

complexity

of

forces

that

create

juvenile

crime.

Such

an

argument

may

strike

us

for

a

moment,

but

only

for

a

moment.

It

is

neither

true

nor

honest.

And

in

argumentation, as in murder, truth will out.

We have stressed here th

e problems of reasoning well, for that is the essence of argumentation. Yet to be

fully effective an argument must be not only well reasoned but well expressed. Its organization must be clear.

The writer should make plain at the very beginning what he is arguing for or what he is contending against,

and his paragraphs should march in perfect order from premise to inference or from evidence to conclusion.

His syntax should be an easy yet a strong vehicle for the ideas it conveys, and his diction both honest and

exact. In sh

ort, argumentation is reason finely phrased. Reason twisted in awkward prose is like a chisel of

strong steel with a blunted edge. Beautiful writing that hides fallacy and misrepresentation is a shiny tool of

cheap metal that soon

cracks. To argue well the writer must begin with intelligence and with honesty, but he

must hone them to the sharp edge of good prose. A person canno

t learn how to be honest ─ not at least from

textbooks. But from the study of writers who know their trade, h

e can learn something about how to argue

well. That is the purpose of the selections that follow.

Unit 3

T

ext A

The Use of Force

They were new

patients to me, all I had was the n

ame, Olson

. ―Please come down as soon as you can,

When I arrived I was met by the mother, a big startled looking woman, very

clean and apologetic who

my daughter is very sick.‖

merely said, Is this the doctor? And let me in. In the back, she added. Y

ou must excuse us, doctor, we have her

in the kitchen where it is warm. It is very damp here sometimes.

The child was fully dressed and sitting on here father’s lap near the kitchen table. He tried to get up, but I

motioned

for

him

not to bother,

took off

my

overcoat

and started

to

look

things

over

.

I could

see

that they

were all very nervous, eyeing me up and down distrustfully

. As often, in such

cases, they weren’t telling me

more than they

had to, it was up to me to tell t

hem; that’s why they were spending three dollars on me.

The child was fairly eating

me up with her cold, steady eyes, and no expression on her face whatever.

She did not move and seemed, inwardly

, quiet; an unusually attractive little thing, and as strong as a heifer in

appearance. But her face was flushed, she was breathing rapidly

, and I realized that she had a high fever. She

had

magnificent

blonde

hair,

in

profusion.

One

of

those

picture

children

often

reprodu

ced

in

advertising

leaflets an

d the ph

otogravure sections of the Sunday papers.

She’s had a fever for three days, began the father and we don’t kn

ow what it comes from. My wife has

given her things, you know, like people do, but it don’t do no good. And there’

s been a lot of sickness around.

So we

tho’t y

ou’d better look h

er over and tell us what is the matter.

As doctors often do I took a trial shot at it as a point of departure. Has she had a sore throat?

Both parents answered me together, No…No, she says her throat don’t hurt her.

Does your t

hroat hurt you? Added the mother to the child. But the little girl’s expression didn’t change

Have you looked?

I tried to, said the mother but II couldn’t see.

As it happens we had been having a number of cases of diphtheria in the school to which this child went

nor did she move her eyes from my face.

during that month an

d we were all, quite apparently

, thinking of that, though no one had as yet spoken of the

thing.

Well,

I

said,

suppose

we

take a

look

at

the

throat

first.

I smiled

in

my

best

professional

manner

and

asking

for the child’s

first

name

I

said,

come on,

Mathilda, open

your

mouth

and

let’s

take

a

look

at

your

throat.

Nothing doing.

Aw, come on, I coaxed, just open your mouth wide and let me take a look. Look, I said opening both

Such a nice man, put in the mother

. Look how kind he is to you. Come on, do what he tells you to. He

As that I ground my teeth in disgust. If only they wouldn’t use the word ―hurt‖ I might be able to get

hands wide

, I haven’t anything in my hands. Just open up an

d let me see.

won’t hurt y

ou.

somewhere.

But

I

did

not

allow

myself

to

be

hurried

or

disturbed

but

speaking

quietly

and

slowly

I

approached the child again.

As

I

moved

my

chair

a

little

nearer

suddenly

with

one

catlike

movement

both

her

h

ands

clawed

instinctively for my eyes an

d sh

e almost reached them too. In fact she knocked my glasses flying and they fell,

though unbroken, several feet away from me on the kitchen floor.

Both the mother an

d father almost turned themselves inside out in embarrassment and apology

. Y

ou bad

For

heaven’s sake, I broke

in.

Don’t

call

me

a

nice

man

to

her.

I’m

here to

look at

her throat on

the

girl, said the mother, taking her and shaking here by one arm. Look what you’ve done. The nice man…

chance that she might have diphtheri

a and possibly die of it. But that’s nothing to her. Look here, I said to the

child, we’re going to look at y

our throat. Y

ou’re old en

ough to understan

d what I’m saying. Will you open

it

now by y

ourself or shall we have to open

it for you?

Not a move. Eve

n her expression hadn

’t changed. Her breaths, however, were coming faster and faster.

Then the battle began. I had to do it. I had to have a throat culture for her own protection. But first I told the

parents

th

at

it

was entirely

up

to

them.

I

explained

the danger but said

that

I

would

not

insist

on

a

throat

examination so long as they would take the responsibility

.

If

you

don’t

do

what

the

doctor

says

you’ll

have

to

go

to

the

hospital,

the

mother

admonished

her

Oh yeah? I had to smile to myself. After all, I had already fallen in love with the savage brat, the parents

severely

.

were contemptible to me. In

the ensuing struggle they grew more and more abject, crushed, exhausted while

she surely rose to magnificent heights of insane fury of effort bred of her terror of me.

The father tried his best, an

d he was a big man but the fact that she was his daughter, his shame at her

behavior

and

his

dread

of

hurting

her

made

him

release

her

just

at

the

critical

times

when

I

had

almost

achieved success, till I wanted to kill him. But his dread also that she might have diphtheria made him tell me

to

go

on

,

go

on

though

he

himself

was

almost

fainting,

while

the

mother

moved

back

an

d

forth behind

us

raising and lowering her hands in an agony of apprehension.

Put her in front of you on your lap, I ordered, and hold both her wrists.

But as soon as he did the child let out a scream. Don’t, you’re hurting me. Let go of my hands. Let them

Do you think she can stand it, doctor! Said the mother.

Y

ou get out, said the husband to his wife. Do you want her to die of diphtheria?

Come on now, hold her

, I said.

Then I grasped the child’s head with my left hand and tried to get the

wooden tongue depressor between

go I tell you. Then she shrieked terrifyingly

, hysterically

. Stop it! Stop it! Y

ou’re

killing me!

her teeth. She fought, with clenched teeth, desperately! But now I also had grown furious-at a child. I tried to

hold

myself

down

but

I couldn’t.

I know

how to expose a

throat

for

inspection. And

I did

my best. When

finally I got the wooden spatula behind the last teeth and just the point of it into the mouth cavity

, she opened

up for an instant but before I could see anything she came down again and gripped the wooden blade between

her molars. She redu

ces it to splinters before I could get it out again.

Aren’t you ashamed, the mother yelled at h

er. Aren

’t you

ashamed to act like that in front of the doctor?

Get

me

a

smooth-

handled spoon of

some

sort,

I

told

the

mother

.

W

e’re

g

oing

through

with

this.

The

child’s

mouth

was al

ready bleeding.

Her

tongue

was

cut and

she

was screaming

in

wild

hysterical

shrieks.

Perhaps I should have desisted and come back in an hour or more. No doubt it would hav

e been

better. But I

have

seen

at

least

two

children

lying

dead

in

bed

of

neglect

in

such

cases,

and

feeling

that

I

must

get

a

diagnosis now or never I went at it again. But the worst of it was that I too had got beyond reason. I could

have torn

the child apart in my own

fury and enjoyed it. It was a pleasure to attack her

, my face was burning

with it.

The

damned

little

brat

must

be

protected against

her own

idiocy

, one

says

to one’s

self

at

such times.

Others must be protected against her

. It is a social necessity

. And all these things are true. But a blind fury

, a

feeling of adult shame, bred of a longing for muscular release are the operatives. One goes on to the end.

In the final unreasoning assault I overpowered the child’s neck any jaws. I forced the heavy silver spoon

back of her teeth and down her throat till she gagged. An

d there it was

–

both tonsils covered with membrane.

She h

ad fought valiantly to keep me from kn

owing her secret. She had been

hiding that sore throat for three

days at least and lying to her parents in order to escape just such an

outcome as this.

Unit 4

T

ext A

The Fifth Fr

eedom

by Seymour S

t . John

Beginning

with

the

earliest

pioneers,

Americans

have

always

highly

valued

their

freedoms,

and

fought hard to protect them. And yet, the author points out that there is a basic freedom which Americans

are in danger of losing.

What is this endangered freedom? For what reasons could freedom-loving Americans possibly let this

freedom slip away?

And what- steps can they take to protect it ---- their fifth freedom?

1

More than three centuries ago a han

dful of pioneers crossed the ocean t Jamestown an

d Plymouth in

search of freedoms they were unable to find in their own countries, the freedoms of we still cherish today:

freedom from want, freedom from fear, freedom of speech, freedom of religion. Today the descendants of the

early

settlers, and

those

who

have

joined

them

since,

are

fighting

to

protect

these

freedoms

at

home

and

throughout the world.

2

And yet there is a fifth freedom - basic to th

ose four - that we are in danger of losing: the freedom to be

one's best. St. Exupery describes a ragged, sensitive-faced Arab child, haunting the streets of a North African

town, as a lost Mozart: he would never be trained or developed. Was he free?

shoulder

while

there

was

still

time;

and

n

ought

will

awaken

in

you

the

sleeping

poet

or

musician

or

astronomer that possibly inhabited you from the beginning.

the development of each person to his highest power

.

Now truly she was furious. She had been

on

the defensive before but now she attacked, Tried to get off

her father’s lap and fly at me while tears of defeat blinded her eyes.

3

How is it that we in America have begun to lose this freedom, and how can we regain it for our nation's

youth? I believe it has started slipping away from us because of three misunderstandings.

4

First,

the

misunderstanding

of

the

meaning

of

democracy

.

The

principal

of

a

great Philadelphia

high

school is driven to cry for help in combating the notion that it

is undemocratic to run a special program of

studies for outstanding boys and girls. Again, when a good independent school in Memphis recently closed,

some thoughtful citizens urged that it be taken over by the public school system and used for boys and girls of

high ability

, what it have entrance requirements and give an advanced program of studies to superior stu

dents

who

were

interested

an

d

able

to

take

it.

The

proposal

was

rejected

because

it

was

undemocratic!

Thus,

courses are geared to the middle of the class. The good student is unchallenged, bored. The loafer receives his

passing grade. And the lack of an outstanding course for the outstanding student, th

e lack of a standard which

a boy or girl must meet, passes for democracy

.

5

The second misunderstanding concerns what makes for happiness. The aims of our present- day culture

are

av

owedly

ease

and

material

well-being:

shorter

hours;

a

sh

orter

week;

more

return

for

less

accomplishment; more softsoap excuses and fewer honest, realistic demands. In

our schools this is reflected

by

the

vanishing

hickory

stick

and

the

emerging

psychiatrist.

The

hickory

stick

had

its

faults,

and

the

psychiatrist has his strengths. But hickory stick had its faults, and the psychiatrist has his strengths. But the

trend is clear. T

out comprendre c'est tout pardoner (To understand everything is to excuse everything). Do we

really believe that our softening standards bring happiness? Is it our sound and considered judgment that the

tougher subjects of the classics and mathematics should be thrown aside, as suggested by some educators, for

doll-playing? Small wonder that Charles Malik, Lebanese delegate at the U.N., writes:

(in the United States)

the unprecedented challenges of the age.

6

The

last

misunderstanding

is

in

the

area of

values.

Here

are

some

of

the

most

influential

tenets

of

teacher education over the past fifty years: there is no eternal truth; there is no absolute moral law; there is no

God. Y

et all of history has taught us that the denial of these ultimates, the placement of man or state at the

core of

the universe, results in a paralyzing mass selfishness; an

d the first signs of it are already frighteningly

evident.

7

Arnold

T

oynbee

has

said

that all

progress,

all

development

come

from

challenge

and

a consequent

response.

Without

challenge

there

is

no

response,

n

o

development,

no

freedom.

So

first

we

owe

to

our

children the most demanding, challenging curriculum that is within their capabilities. Michelangelo did not

learn to paint by spending his time doodling. Mozart was n

ot an accomplished pianist at the age of eight as

the result or spending his days in front of a television set. Like Eve Curie, like Helen Keller, they responded to

the challenge of their lives by

a disciplined training: and they gained a new freedom.

8

The second opportunity we can give our boys and girls is the right to failure.

privilege, it is a test,

. What kind of a test is it, wh

at kind of freedom where no one can

fail?

The day is past when the United States can afford to give high school diplomas to all who sit through four

years of instruction, regardless of wheth

er any visible results can be discerned. W

e live in a narrowed world

where we must be alert, awake to realism; and realism demands a standard which either must be met or result

in

failure. These are hard words, but they are brutally true. If we deprive our children of the right to fail we

deprive them of their knowledge of the world as it is.

9

Finally

,

we

can

expose our

children

to

the best

values

we

have

found.

By

relating

our

lives

to

the

evidences of the ages, by

judging our philosophy in the light of values that history

has proven truest, perhaps

we shall be able to produce that

the heart, firing the will, a message on which one can stake his whole life.

mean joy and strength and leadership -- freedom as opposed to serfdom.

Unit 5

T

ext A

Bulletins from the futur

e: Julian Assange and the new wave

A host

of

non-profit actors

have

entered the

news business, blurring the line

between

journalism and

activism

THE

BEA

TEN-UP

RED

car

crunched

up

the

driveway

and came

to a

h

alt

outside an

English

manor

house. A tall, strangely hunched woman emerged into the November night and hurried indoors. In fact it was

Julian Assange, the boss of WikiLeaks, wh

o had donned a wig to disguise himself as an old woman as he

travelled from London to a safe house in Norfolk. That may have been a tad dramatic, but there can be no

doubt about

Mr

Assange’

s

prominence

among a

group of

unconventional

new actors

in

the

news

business

that have emerged lately

.

These

are

non- profit

organisations

that

are

involved

in

various

forms

of

investigative

journalism.

As

funding for such reporting by traditional media has been

cut, they are filling the gap using new methods based

on digital technology

. Some of them make government information available in order to promote openness,

transparency

and

citizen

engagement;

some

gather

and

publish

information

on

human-rights

abuses;

and

some specialise in traditional investigative journalism and are funded by philanthropy

.

And then

there is WikiLeaks. Launched in late 2006, it was intended to be ―an uncensorable Wikipedia

for untraceable mass document leaking and analysis‖, with the aim of ―exposing oppressive regimes in Asia,

the former Soviet block, su

b-

Saharan Africa and the Middle East‖. Inspirations included Wikipedia, the web

encyclopedia written

by

volunteers, an

d th

e leak of the Pentag

on Papers by Daniel Ellsberg to the

New York

Times

during

the

Vietnam

war,

which

ultimately

led

to

a

Supre

me

Court

ruling

that

―

only

a

free

and

unrestrained press can effectively expose deception in government.‖ WikiLeaks welcomes documents from

whistle-blowers an

d provides anonymous drop boxes. It is funded by

donations and staffed by volunteers.

In its first three years WikiLeaks published leaked material on a range of subjects, including corruption

in Kenya, the church of Scientology

, Sarah Palin’s e

-mails, the membership of a British nationalist party

and a

Peruvian oil scandal. But in 2010 it abandon

ed the wiki-style approach and adopted a new, editorialising tone.

In July that year it worked with three mainstream news organisations

—

the

New York Times

,

DerSpiegel

and

the

Guardian

—

to publish a cache of 75,000 documents relating to the war in Afghanistan. Speaking to

The

Economist

at

the

time,

Mr

Assange

explained

that

such partnerships

gave

it

more

impact

than

if

it

simply

posted leaked material online and expected people to seek it out. ―We see actually that the professional press

has a n

ose for what a story will be

—

the general public becomes involved once there is a story

, and then

can

come forward and help mine the material.‖

A further cach

e of nearly 400,000 documents, relating to the Iraq war, was released in October, and in

November

five

newspapers

began

to

publish

highlights

from

over

250,000

diplomatic

cables

sent

by

American embassies around the world. But by this time the relationship between WikiLeaks an

d its media

partners

was breaking

down,

an

d

WikiLeaks

itself

was

in

turmoil.

Mr

Assange

was

fighting

an extradition

request in the British courts from Swedish prosecutors who want to question him about two alleged sexual

assaults, and

his

increasingly

imperious

behaviour prompted

the

departure of

several

of

his key

associates.

Ironically

, WikiLeaks itself sprang a leak and some of its material was passed to its estranged media partners,

which no longer felt they had to co-ordinate publication with Mr Assange.

The

line

between

activism

and

journalism

has

always

been

somewhat

fuzzy

,

but

has

become

even

fuzzier in the digital age

Despite

WikiLeaks’

difficulties,

its

approach

is

being

adopted

by

others.

Al

Jazeera

has

set

up

a

―transparency unit‖ with a WikiLeaks

-style anonymous drop box. The

W

all S

treet Journal

launched a drop

box of its own in May

, but was

criticised for not offering enough protection to leakers. ―Everyone’

s looking at

the

idea,‖

says

the

Guardian

’s

Alan

Rusbridger

,

―but

if

you’re

going

to

do

it

you

have

to

make

it

really

secure.‖

Conspiracy theory

What happens next depends in part on the fate of Mr Assange and of Bradley Manning, an American

soldier who has been charged with passing confidential

information to WikiLeaks. If American prosecutors

can show that Mr Assange encouraged Mr Manning to leak the material, they

may try

to charge WikiL

eaks’

boss with conspiracy

. That would be worrying for news organisations in general, because it would strike at

the

idea

that

journalists

should

be

able

to

develop

relationships

with

confidential

sources

without

fear

of

prosecution.

WikiLeaks seems to be h

oping that by calling itself a news organisation it will be protected by

the First

Amendment.

The

―about‖ page on

the

WikiLeaks

website,

which

used to describe

the organisation

as

―an

excellent

source

for

journalists‖,

has

been

rewritten

to

describe

its

a

ctivities

as

journalism,

its

staff

as

journalists

and

Mr

Assange

as

its

editor- in

-chief.

There

has

been

much debate

about

whether

Mr

Assange