All practice questions

The following passage explores the scientific debate surrounding cognitive abilities in primates.

Paragraph 1
For decades, comparative psychologists maintained that the ability to attribute mental states—beliefs, intents, desires, pretending, knowledge, etc.—to oneself and others was a uniquely human cognitive milestone, typically developing around age four. This "theory of mind" was conceptualized as a monolithic cognitive leap, separating human social reasoning from that of even our closest evolutionary relatives, the chimpanzees. Early experiments in the 1980s seemed to confirm this divide, showing that while chimpanzees could anticipate actions based on physical cues, they consistently failed tasks requiring them to understand that another agent could hold a false belief about the location of an object.

Paragraph 2
However, this paradigm began to shift with the implementation of eye-tracking technologies that measure anticipatory looking rather than active choice. When presented with scenarios where an actor was misled about the location of a hidden treat, chimpanzees consistently looked toward the location where the actor believed the food to be, rather than its actual current location. This subtle shift in experimental methodology revealed a level of implicit social cognition that went undetected by older, explicit choice paradigms, suggesting that the cognitive divide between humans and non-human primates might be a gradient of complexity rather than an absolute, qualitative barrier.

Paragraph 3
Despite these findings, several cognitive theorists remain skeptical, arguing that anticipatory looking does not necessarily equate to a representation of another's mental state. They propose that chimpanzees may simply be executing sophisticated behavioral rules—such as "people look for things where they last saw them"—without engaging in any internal simulation of the actor’s mind. Thus, the debate has shifted from whether primates possess theory of mind to how we can conclusively distinguish true mentalizing from highly complex behaviorist heuristics.

Which of the following best describes the relationship between Paragraph 2 and Paragraph 1?

While modern viewers often regard gargoyles simply as grotesque decorative elements ornamenting gothic cathedrals, these stone carvings originally served a highly practical engineering function. In medieval architecture, gargoyles were designed primarily as rain spouts to direct water away from the masonry walls of the building. During heavy rainstorms, water would accumulate on the cathedral roofs. Without a mechanism to redirect this flow, the water would run down the stone walls, gradually eroding the mortar that held the massive blocks together. By carving conduits into the backs of these stone creatures and extending their mouths far beyond the building's edge, medieval builders ensured that rainwater was thrown safely clear of the foundation.

In addition to this primary utility, gargoyles also served a secondary, symbolic purpose in medieval society. Because many churchgoers at the time were illiterate, priests used visual symbols to convey religious concepts. Placed on the exterior of the church, gargoyles were meant to represent evil forces kept at bay, contrasting sharply with the sacred and peaceful sanctuary inside. However, despite their spiritual associations and striking appearances, the architectural integration of these figures was ultimately dictated by the practical need to manage water runoff. Without the physical protection they provided, the grand gothic cathedrals of Europe would not have survived the centuries.

What is the primary purpose of the passage?

Passage:

For two months, I have lived in the scaffolding beneath the south transept window of St. Jude’s, suspended thirty feet above a drafty nave. My tools are simple: a stiff-bristled brush, a vulcanized rubber bulb to blow away centuries of coal soot, and a small lead knife that has been ground down to a curved sliver from years of sharpening. The parish council, in their monthly bulletins, describes my work as "restoring the light of our ancestors." But up here, face-to-face with the cobalt blues and brilliant rubies of the thirteenth-century glass, I know that "restoring" is too grand a word. My task is not to improve or even to recreate, but to arrest decay.

Every day, I examine the cames—the H-shaped lead strips that hold the glass segments together. The lead has grown fatigued over the centuries, bowing outward under the pressure of winter gales until the window looks less like a flat wall and more like a heavy sail catching the wind. When I touch the glass, it rattles in its seat, a fragile, chattering thing that seems desperate to succumb to gravity.

The council wants the window to shine as if it were brand new, but that would require replacing the original hand-blown glass, which is full of imperfections—trapped air bubbles, variations in thickness, and ripples that distort the light. It is precisely these flaws that give the cathedral its unique, breathing glow. To replace them with modern, uniform glass would be a betrayal. I choose instead to reinforce the lead and clean the surface, preserving the dust-mottled prisms that the original, nameless glazier left behind. I am not an artist here; I am merely a silent guardian of another person’s light, ensuring that their work remains visible for another century, even if it remains slightly obscured.

Based on the passage, which of the following best describes the narrator's perspective on their role in the St. Jude's restoration project?

### Passage

Knotted Records: Re-evaluating the Incan Khipu

For centuries, historians of the human word have operated under a silent assumption: that a civilization’s advancement is directly tied to the development of a graphic, alphabetic script. In this Eurocentric paradigm, the Inca Empire, which stretched along the Andean spine of South America from the fifteenth to the early sixteenth century, stood as a baffling paradox. Here was a massive, highly organized state with complex architectural engineering, agricultural terraces, and state-wide communication networks, yet it apparently lacked any form of writing. Instead, Incan administrators relied on the khipu—a device consisting of a main horizontal cord from which hung dozens, sometimes hundreds, of smaller, knotted woolen or cotton strings. Although long dismissed by early European observers as simple, mnemonic accounting tools, the khipu system was actually a sophisticated, non-alphabetic writing medium that systematically encoded both complex numerical data and narrative histories crucial to the administration of the Incan state.

Understanding the complexity of the khipu requires looking past their tactile simplicity to the rich array of physical variables that Incan record-keepers manipulated. A khipu is not merely a string with knots; it is a multi-dimensional database. The creators, known as khipukamayuqs (knot-makers), made deliberate choices at every stage of construction. They selected fibers of varying colors—ranging from natural whites and browns to dyed blues, yellows, and reds—which carried specific symbolic or thematic meanings. The spin and ply of the thread (whether twisted to the left in an 'S' shape or to the right in a 'Z' shape) added another layer of information. Finally, the knots themselves were categorized into three distinct types: simple single knots, long knots representing digits two through nine, and figure-eight knots representing the unit one. Positioned at varying heights along the hanging cords, these knots mapped out a decimal system of tens, hundreds, and thousands, allowing for precise mathematical calculations.

The primary function of these knotted records was bureaucratic and administrative. In an empire of over ten million subjects spread across incredibly diverse ecological zones, central planning was essential. The Inca state did not use monetary currency; instead, it relied on a labor tax known as the mit'a. Khipukamayuqs used the cords to meticulously document census statistics, agricultural yields in state storehouses, tribute obligations of individual provinces, and the distribution of military supplies. When a local ruler arrived in Cuzco, the Incan capital, he would bring his khipus to present to the imperial administration, ensuring that the state had a real-time, physical record of its resources. Without this flow of physical, knotted data, the rapid expansion and preservation of Incan authority over their vast territory would have been structurally impossible.

However, reducing the khipu solely to an administrative accounting spreadsheet overlooks its narrative capabilities. While early Spanish chroniclers recorded that khipus were used for numbers, they also noted that these cords held memory of Incan origins, royal lineages, laws, and historic battles. During public festivals, khipukamayuqs would run their fingers over the knots, reciting detailed oral histories that corresponded to the tactile patterns of the cords. In recent decades, computational analyses of surviving khipus have revealed that a significant portion of the cords do not follow the standard decimal pattern of numerical records. These non-decimal khipus are believed to represent narrative texts, where color sequences, knot directions, and spatial groupings functioned as phonograms, ideograms, or geographic classifiers. By reading the cords, the Inca created a tactile literature that bridged the gap between quantitative records and historical storytelling.

Ultimately, the khipu challenges the long-standing scholarly boundary between 'pre-historic' non-literate societies and 'historic' literate ones. It represents a completely different cognitive path for information storage, one that relies on tactile and visual elements rather than the phonetic reproduction of speech. As modern researchers continue to analyze the physical structures of these cords, the khipu increasingly stands as a testament to Incan intellectual ingenuity, illustrating how a civilization can build a vast, enduring empire by writing not on paper, but in three-dimensional space.

Which of the following statements best expresses the main idea of the passage?

The following passage is adapted from an essay on the history of optical instruments.

In the history of observational astronomy, two primary designs of optical telescopes have dominated: refractors and reflectors. The refracting telescope, pioneered in the early seventeenth century, utilizes a series of glass lenses to gather and bend incoming starlight to a focal point. In contrast, the reflecting telescope, invented by Sir Isaac Newton in 1668, replaces the primary objective lens with a curved mirror that reflects light to form an image. While refractors are highly regarded for their sealed tubes, which protect the internal optics from dust and atmospheric degradation, they suffer from chromatic aberration—an optical defect where different wavelengths of light focus at slightly different distances, creating a colored halo around bright objects. Newton’s reflector solved this issue because mirrors reflect all wavelengths of light at the exact same angle, thereby eliminating chromatic aberration. However, unlike refractors, reflecting telescopes feature open-ended tubes that expose the primary mirror to air, requiring periodic cleaning and alignment.

Based on the passage, which of the following is an explicit difference between refracting and reflecting telescopes?

When Vitaphone technology introduced synchronized sound to motion pictures in the late 1920s, many film critics lamented the demise of what they called 'pure cinema.' They argued that silent film, relying entirely on visual composition, pantomime, and title cards, was a unique, international art form. Sound, they feared, would reduce cinema to a mere recording of filmed stage plays, destroying the medium's visual poetry. However, these critics overlooked how sound could enhance rather than replace visual storytelling. Instead of merely duplicating visual action, early sound designers used audio counterpoint—such as playing upbeat music over a tragic scene—to create complex psychological depth. Thus, sound did not kill the visual art of cinema; it added a new dimension to it.

Which of the following best describes the rhetorical function of the sentence 'However, these critics overlooked how sound could enhance rather than replace visual storytelling'?

Elena smoothed the curling edges of the vellum map across the oak table, weighting the corners with brass compasses. The map, dated 1842, depicted the jagged coastline of Cape Sorrow, a region notorious for its treacherous shoals and sudden, blinding fogs. Her fingers traced the delicate, hand-drawn hatching that represented the cliffs overlooking the sea. The ink was faded to the color of dried tea leaves, yet the draftsman’s precision remained sharp, capturing every indentation of the rocky shoreline where dozens of merchant vessels had met their demise. To anyone else, the map was a historical curiosity, a relic of a time when cartography was as much an art form as a science. To Elena, however, it was a puzzle waiting to be solved. She had spent the last three months in the basement of the Maritime Archives, surrounded by the scent of decaying paper and leather bindings, searching for clues about the lost voyage of the Saint Jude.

As her fingers brushed the tiny, hand-inked symbol of the lighthouse at the tip of the peninsula, the sounds of the quiet archive room began to fade. The soft hum of the fluorescent lights was replaced by the low, resonant rumble of the sea, and the air in the room suddenly felt heavy with the scent of brine and ozone.

Twenty years ago, when she was merely seven years old, Elena had stood on those very cliffs during a violent late-summer gale. She remembered the fierce wind tugging at her yellow raincoat, threatening to pull her toward the edge, and the salty spray that stung her eyes as she looked down at the churning ocean. Her grandfather, a retired mariner with skin cured by decades of ocean wind, had held her hand tightly, his grip a solid anchor against the storm. "Look closely, Elena," he had shouted over the roar of the surf, pointing toward the white water where the black teeth of the reef lay just beneath the surface. "A map doesn’t just show you where the land ends. It shows you where the stories are buried, and where the danger hides." That afternoon, after they had retreated to the safety of the lighthouse's circular kitchen, her grandfather had set a blank sheet of paper before her. With a stubby graphite pencil, he had guided her small hand to draw her first map—a crude, wobbly sketch of the kitchen table, the cast-iron stove, and the sleeping orange cat. It was then that she understood that paper could contain an entire world.

The shrill, metallic ring of the archives telephone snapped Elena back to the present. The salty breeze vanished, and the roaring ocean subsided into the hum of the archives' dehumidifier. She blinked, adjusting to the sterile, white light of the modern room. She looked down at the 1842 map, her hand still resting on the lighthouse symbol. But now, with her grandfather's words echoing in her mind, she noticed a detail she had previously overlooked: a tiny, faint notation of a shallow reef, marked with a symbol that matched the one her grandfather had shown her so many years ago.

What is the primary function of the flashback in the third paragraph?

Passage

In the early nineteenth century, local time was determined by the sun's position at noon in each town, leading to a patchwork of hundreds of distinct local times across the United States. As railroad networks expanded rapidly in the 1840s, this localized time-keeping system created dangerous scheduling conflicts and train collisions on shared tracks. To coordinate train movements and ensure safety, railroad managers required a unified time system. The development of the electric telegraph in the 1840s provided the technological infrastructure needed to address this crisis. By transmitting time signals instantaneously along telegraph lines from astronomical observatories to stations, railroads could synchronize clocks across vast distances. This capability directly enabled the major railway companies to establish four standardized time zones in 1883, replacing the chaotic localized systems. Consequently, standard time, which began as a pragmatic measure to facilitate safe railway logistics, eventually became adopted by the general public and formalized by federal law.

Based on the passage, the establishment of standardized time zones in 1883 was directly made possible by which of the following?

In 1972, astronomers Carl Sagan and George Mullen pointed out a contradiction that had long quieted in the margins of stellar evolution theory: the Faint Young Sun Paradox. According to standard astrophysical models, during the Archean eon—between 3.8 and 2.5 billion years ago—the Sun’s output was only about 70 percent of its current intensity. Under such conditions, liquid water should have frozen globally, turning the early Earth into a sterile, ice-bound wasteland. Yet, geological evidence—such as sedimentary ripple marks and ancient pillow lavas—unequivocally demonstrates that liquid oceans existed and life began during this very epoch.

Sagan and Mullen proposed that a dense greenhouse atmosphere, rich in ammonia and methane, kept the planet warm. However, subsequent photolysis models revealed that solar ultraviolet radiation would have rapidly destroyed atmospheric ammonia, leaving scientists to search for alternative warming agents, such as carbon dioxide and carbon-isotope variations. While various geochemical feedback loops involving the carbonate-silicate cycle have since been proposed to explain how Earth maintained its temperate climate, the paradox remains a central calibration tool for climatologists. By studying how the early Earth escaped a permanent deep freeze despite a weak young Sun, researchers gain vital insights into the long-term stability of planetary habitability and the potential constraints on life elsewhere in the cosmos.

Which of the following best describes the primary purpose of the passage as a whole?

The new subway line was heralded as a marvel of modern engineering, a sleek subterranean artery that would breathe life into the city's congested core. Yet, as I stood on the platform, watching the gleaming silver cars glide silently along the tracks, I felt a strange pang of loss. The old streetcars, with their clattering wheels and sparks of electric blue, had possessed a stubborn, noisy charm. They were woven into the very fabric of the neighborhood, whereas this sterile underground tube felt entirely disconnected from the vibrant life of the streets above.

Based on the passage, the narrator’s attitude toward the new subway line can best be described as which of the following?

Read the following passage adapted from an essay on the history of molecular biology:

"For decades, the central dogma of molecular biology reigned as an unassailable autocracy, decreeing that genetic information flowed strictly from DNA to RNA to protein, with the latter executing all catalytic duties. RNA was relegated to the humble role of messenger, a transient courier carrying instructions from the genomic vault to the cellular machinery. When researchers in the early 1980s observed RNA molecules splicing themselves in the complete absence of protein helpers, they did not immediately celebrate a breakthrough. Instead, they suspected contamination, assuming their assays were flawed. The dogma was so deeply entrenched that the concept of a catalytic RNA—a 'ribozyme'—was treated as a chemical heresy. The initial resistance to this discovery illustrates not just scientific skepticism, but the profound grip of established paradigms on the scientific imagination."

In the context of the first sentence, the author's use of the phrase "unassailable autocracy" functions rhetorically to achieve which of the following effects?

Read the passage below:

We stood on the precipice of the crater, the wind whipping red dust across our visors. I checked my oxygen gauge, my hand trembling; if the seal failed now, the mission was over. Behind me, Dr. Robert sat silently, staring at the horizon. He wondered if his lifetime of research would be reduced to a footnote in the agency's annual report, a casualty of the budget cuts that had plagued them for years. He knew the risk, but the quiet desperation of his colleagues was more suffocating than the thin atmosphere outside.

Suddenly, a transmission cracked through the comms. "The telemetry is showing a localized seismic spike near the ridge," Commander Vance warned from the orbiting station, his voice stripped of emotion by the digital static. "Get out of there immediately."

But the ridge was already shifting. To an outside observer, the entire landscape would have appeared to be holding its breath, a massive, ancient beast slowly waking from a million-year slumber as the ice beneath the surface sublimated into steam.

Based on the passage, arrange the narrative perspectives in the order in which they appear in the text, from first to last.

Read the passage below:

Early twentieth-century sociologists often viewed urbanization as a purely disruptive force, one that inevitably severed traditional community bonds. However, Dr. Aris Thorne’s seminal study of industrial neighborhoods challenged this narrative. Thorne argued that city dwellers did not simply lose their social structures; rather, they constructed new, *elastic* networks of mutual aid and kinship that adapted to the pressures of factory life. These networks were not fragile, but resilient, bending under economic hardship without breaking.

As it is used in the passage, the word *elastic* most nearly suggests that the social networks were characterized by which of the following qualities?

For decades, the sudden disappearance of the dinosaurs at the end of the Cretaceous period remained one of geology’s most stubborn enigmas. The dominant paradigm favored a slow, gradual decline driven by long-term climatic shifts and volcanic activity. This consensus was abruptly challenged in 1980 by Luis and Walter Alvarez, who proposed that a giant asteroid impact was the primary driver of the mass extinction.

The strength of the Alvarez hypothesis lay not just in its revolutionary claim, but in the meticulous sequencing of its supporting evidence. The argument began with a singular, anomalous finding: a thin layer of clay at the Cretaceous-Paleogene (K-Pg) boundary in Gubbio, Italy, which exhibited iridium concentrations thirty times higher than normal. Because iridium is rare in Earth’s crust but abundant in chondritic meteorites, the authors posited an extraterrestrial source. To establish that this was not a localized anomaly, they quickly followed this finding with data from Denmark and New Zealand, confirming the global distribution of the iridium spike.

However, a global iridium layer was merely circumstantial evidence of an impact; it did not prove that the impact caused the extinction, nor did it locate the collision site. To tighten the causal chain, the narrative of evidence shifted from chemical anomalies to physical shock dynamics. In the late 1980s, geologists identified shocked quartz grains—crystals showing microscopic deformations characteristic of high-pressure shock waves—within K-Pg boundary sediments worldwide. These mineralogical signatures could not be produced by volcanism, effectively narrowing the causal mechanism to an impact event.

The final piece of the argument required locating the physical crater. Proponents of the theory pointed to deposits of tektites—glassy spherules formed from cooled rock melt—that grew progressively thicker in sediments surrounding the Caribbean basin. This spatial gradient directed researchers toward the Yucatan Peninsula, where the buried Chicxulub crater was finally confirmed in 1991. By sequencing the evidence from chemical anomalies, to shock-deformed minerals, to spatial geological gradients, the Alvarez team built a cumulative case that successfully shifted the scientific consensus from gradualism to catastrophism.

Which of the following best describes the transition in the sequence of evidence from the global iridium layer to shocked quartz grains?

Passage:

For decades, marine biologists viewed whales primarily as consumers within the oceanic food web. However, recent ecological research has revealed that baleen whales play a critical role in fertilizing the upper layers of the ocean through a process known as the "whale pump." These massive mammals feed on nutrient-rich krill in the deep ocean, but because the extreme hydrostatic pressure at depth prevents them from defecating there, they return to the sunlit photic zone to release their fecal plumes. These plumes are rich in limiting nutrients, particularly iron and nitrogen. The sudden influx of iron in these nutrient-starved surface waters triggers massive blooms of phytoplankton—microscopic marine plants that form the base of the ocean's food chain. As the phytoplankton population swells, it absorbs vast quantities of carbon dioxide from the atmosphere through photosynthesis. When these phytoplankton eventually die, a portion of them sinks to the abyssal depths, effectively sequestering carbon on the ocean floor for centuries. Consequently, the decline in whale populations due to historic whaling directly reduced the ocean's capacity to absorb carbon dioxide, demonstrating how a disruption in one part of a biological sequence can precipitate far-reaching atmospheric changes.

Based on the passage, arrange the events in the "whale pump" sequence to construct the step-by-step causal chain linking whale feeding habits to the long-term storage of atmospheric carbon.

Each autumn, millions of monarch butterflies embark on an incredible journey from eastern North America to the oyamel fir forests of central Mexico. This annual migration, spanning up to 3,000 miles, is a marvel of ecological adaptation. To survive the long flight, the butterflies rely on thermal updrafts to glide efficiently, conserving their limited energy. They also eat a ton of nectar from wildflowers along the way, fueling their long flight. This critical stopover behavior highlights the importance of conserving nectar-rich habitats across their migration corridor.

Which of the following choices most effectively maintains the established style and tone of the passage?

For decades, conservation biology has relied almost exclusively on visual assessments to determine the health of an ecosystem: counting individual organisms, mapping canopy cover, and tracking migration corridors. However, a growing faction of researchers argues that this ocularcentric approach overlooks a critical dimension of ecological viability: the soundscape. Acoustic ecology, the study of the relationship between living beings and their auditory environment, posits that the collective sounds of a habitat—what researcher Bernie Krause terms 'biophony'—provide a real-time, non-invasive readout of ecological health.

In a healthy habitat, different species occupy distinct acoustic niches, vocalizing at different frequencies or times of day to avoid overlapping, much like instruments in an orchestra. When an ecosystem is degraded by human activity or climate change, this intricate acoustic tapestry begins to fray; certain frequencies fall silent, or the overall structure collapses into chaotic noise. By analyzing these acoustic signatures, scientists can detect subtle shifts in biodiversity long before they manifest as visible declines. Yet, despite its promise, acoustic ecology faces skepticism from traditionalists who view auditory data as too variable and difficult to standardize compared to tangible visual counts. By framing the sensory landscape not as a mere collection of isolated species but as a dynamic, interconnected chorus, acoustic ecology challenges conservationists to listen to the warning signs of environmental degradation rather than merely looking for them.

Based on the passage, which of the following best describes the author's primary purpose?

Read the following passage:

For over a century, the deep-sea abyssal plains were cast in the scientific imagination as vast, biological deserts—monotonous expanses of mud and silence, utterly divorced from the sunlit dynamism of the surface. Early oceanographic accounts relied heavily on a rhetoric of negation, describing what the abyss lacked: no light, no warmth, no seasonal pulse, and, by extension, no meaningful capacity for ecological change. The language was deliberately sterile, reinforcing a conceptual boundary between the active biosphere above and the passive sink below.

However, the discovery of hydrothermal vents and abyssal ecosystems in the late twentieth century forced a profound stylistic shift in oceanographic literature. The sterile prose of negation gave way to a lexicon of astonishing vitality. Oceanographers began employing active, even theatrical verbs—habitats did not merely exist; they 'thrived,' 'pulsed,' and 'orchestrated' complex biogeochemical cycles. The abyss was recast not as a static repository for surface detritus, but as a primary engine of planetary chemistry. This linguistic transformation was not merely cosmetic; it reflected a fundamental realignment of the scientific perspective, recognizing that the deep ocean is not a quiet end-point, but an active participant in Earth's systemic life.

Based on the passage, the contrast between early oceanographic language and late twentieth-century scientific terminology is primarily used to demonstrate which of the following ideas?

In environmental science, assessing the health of freshwater ecosystems requires analyzing nutrient levels and biological productivity. While eutrophic bodies of water are characterized by high nutrient concentrations and frequent algal blooms, researchers often contrast them with oligotrophic lakes. These pristine waters, typically deep and cold, exhibit exceptionally low primary productivity and support sparse, specialized fish populations. Understanding how these contrasting aquatic environments respond to human runoff is crucial for developing effective watershed conservation strategies that preserve biodiversity.

As it is used in the passage, the word oligotrophic most nearly means:

As she carefully packed the last of her leather-bound journals into the archival boxes destined for the university museum, Dr. Helena Vance paused over a faded photograph from 1968. It captured a young girl standing at the foot of the Athabasca Glacier beside her father—a moment that had set her entire career in motion. Decades later, that childhood fascination culminated in her groundbreaking 1989 expedition to Greenland, where her team extracted ice cores containing ancient atmospheric data. The publication of her paper on abrupt Holocene cooling shifts in 1993 cemented her reputation, but it was during a subsequent trip to the Canadian Rockies in 1997 that she first observed the rapid retreat of the ice she had studied for so long.

According to the passage, which of the following events in Vance's career occurred after the publication of her paper on Holocene cooling shifts but before she began packing her journals for the university museum?