Questão 7467ed07-b8
Prova:CEDERJ 2015
Disciplina:Inglês
Assunto:Interpretação de texto | Reading comprehension
De acordo com o que autor afirma no quarto
parágrafo do texto, a tentativa de controlar o mundo
De acordo com o que autor afirma no quarto
parágrafo do texto, a tentativa de controlar o mundo
Why don’t we take our own advice?
Oliver Burkeman
“Why is it so hard to take your own advice?” the psychology
writer Melissa Dahl asked in a New York magazine essay
some months ago, and the question’s been bugging me
ever since. I have the arrogance to imagine that if you
followed some of the suggestions made each week in
this column, you might be a little happier or more
productive, with a little less relationship drama, a little
more inner calm. (From my email inbox, I know this
happens at least occasionally.) But were you to infer from
this that I follow such advice flawlessly myself, you’d be
mistaken. When friends mention their difficulties with
partners or bosses, Dahl wrote, she always tells them to
talk to the person involved. Just say something! “And
probably, this is good advice,” she mused. “I wouldn’t
know, as it’s something I rarely do myself.” I can
understand. I suspect most of us can. As the old wisecrack
has it: “Take my advice – I’m not using it.”
The cynical take on this is that we ignore our own advice
because it’s rubbish: we give it to seem wise, when in
fact it’s nonsense. (All advice to “try harder” or “snap out
of it” or “look on the bright side” fall into this category: if
the recipient could do so, he or she already would have,
without your so-called help.)
But a more interesting notion is that the advice is often
good – yet something prevents us applying it to ourselves.
One such obstacle is simply too much information: inside
our own heads, we have access to all manner of details,
making us believe that this relationship problem, this job
dilemma, is special, so the advice doesn’t apply. Dahl
cites work by the psychologist Dan Ariely, showing that
when a friend gets a serious medical diagnosis, most
people would urge them to get a second opinion. But
were it to happen to themselves, they’d be more likely
not to do so, for fear of offending their doctor. The fear of
offence is something you’d think of only in your own case
– and it’s totally unhelpful.
But there’s another big reason I don’t follow my own advice:
the huge gulf between grasping something intellectually
and really feeling it in your bones. For example, it was
years ago that I first encountered the insight that anxiety
and insecurity aren’t reduced by trying to exert more
control over the world; in fact, that usually makes them
worse. I know this. But apparently I have to keep learning
it, over and over. Its correctness isn’t sufficient for it to get
into my brain once and for all; that takes repeated
experience. As a result, I continue to “suddenly realise”
things I already wrote an entire book about.
If nothing else, this should be a caution against getting
too frustrated with that one friend of yours who keeps
getting into the same kind of pickle, time and again, deaf
to the obviously good advice that everyone keeps offering.
You know the type. We’ve all got a friend like that. The scary thought is that, for some of your friends, it’s probably
you.
Adapted from http://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2015/sep/11/
taking-your-own-advice-oliver-burkeman. Accessed on: 22 out. 2015.
Glossary
advice: conselho; to bug: incomodar; to infer: concluir;
flawlessly: perfeitamente; to muse: meditar; wisecrack:
espertinho; cynical: cínico, pessimista; rubbish:
besteira; to urge: insistir; gulf: distância; exert: exercer;
pickle: encrenca
Why don’t we take our own advice?
Oliver Burkeman
“Why is it so hard to take your own advice?” the psychology writer Melissa Dahl asked in a New York magazine essay some months ago, and the question’s been bugging me ever since. I have the arrogance to imagine that if you followed some of the suggestions made each week in this column, you might be a little happier or more productive, with a little less relationship drama, a little more inner calm. (From my email inbox, I know this happens at least occasionally.) But were you to infer from this that I follow such advice flawlessly myself, you’d be mistaken. When friends mention their difficulties with partners or bosses, Dahl wrote, she always tells them to talk to the person involved. Just say something! “And probably, this is good advice,” she mused. “I wouldn’t know, as it’s something I rarely do myself.” I can understand. I suspect most of us can. As the old wisecrack has it: “Take my advice – I’m not using it.”
The cynical take on this is that we ignore our own advice because it’s rubbish: we give it to seem wise, when in fact it’s nonsense. (All advice to “try harder” or “snap out of it” or “look on the bright side” fall into this category: if the recipient could do so, he or she already would have, without your so-called help.)
But a more interesting notion is that the advice is often good – yet something prevents us applying it to ourselves. One such obstacle is simply too much information: inside our own heads, we have access to all manner of details, making us believe that this relationship problem, this job dilemma, is special, so the advice doesn’t apply. Dahl cites work by the psychologist Dan Ariely, showing that when a friend gets a serious medical diagnosis, most people would urge them to get a second opinion. But were it to happen to themselves, they’d be more likely not to do so, for fear of offending their doctor. The fear of offence is something you’d think of only in your own case – and it’s totally unhelpful.
But there’s another big reason I don’t follow my own advice: the huge gulf between grasping something intellectually and really feeling it in your bones. For example, it was years ago that I first encountered the insight that anxiety and insecurity aren’t reduced by trying to exert more control over the world; in fact, that usually makes them worse. I know this. But apparently I have to keep learning it, over and over. Its correctness isn’t sufficient for it to get into my brain once and for all; that takes repeated experience. As a result, I continue to “suddenly realise” things I already wrote an entire book about.
If nothing else, this should be a caution against getting too frustrated with that one friend of yours who keeps getting into the same kind of pickle, time and again, deaf to the obviously good advice that everyone keeps offering. You know the type. We’ve all got a friend like that. The scary thought is that, for some of your friends, it’s probably you.
Adapted from http://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2015/sep/11/ taking-your-own-advice-oliver-burkeman. Accessed on: 22 out. 2015.
Glossary
Oliver Burkeman
“Why is it so hard to take your own advice?” the psychology writer Melissa Dahl asked in a New York magazine essay some months ago, and the question’s been bugging me ever since. I have the arrogance to imagine that if you followed some of the suggestions made each week in this column, you might be a little happier or more productive, with a little less relationship drama, a little more inner calm. (From my email inbox, I know this happens at least occasionally.) But were you to infer from this that I follow such advice flawlessly myself, you’d be mistaken. When friends mention their difficulties with partners or bosses, Dahl wrote, she always tells them to talk to the person involved. Just say something! “And probably, this is good advice,” she mused. “I wouldn’t know, as it’s something I rarely do myself.” I can understand. I suspect most of us can. As the old wisecrack has it: “Take my advice – I’m not using it.”
The cynical take on this is that we ignore our own advice because it’s rubbish: we give it to seem wise, when in fact it’s nonsense. (All advice to “try harder” or “snap out of it” or “look on the bright side” fall into this category: if the recipient could do so, he or she already would have, without your so-called help.)
But a more interesting notion is that the advice is often good – yet something prevents us applying it to ourselves. One such obstacle is simply too much information: inside our own heads, we have access to all manner of details, making us believe that this relationship problem, this job dilemma, is special, so the advice doesn’t apply. Dahl cites work by the psychologist Dan Ariely, showing that when a friend gets a serious medical diagnosis, most people would urge them to get a second opinion. But were it to happen to themselves, they’d be more likely not to do so, for fear of offending their doctor. The fear of offence is something you’d think of only in your own case – and it’s totally unhelpful.
But there’s another big reason I don’t follow my own advice: the huge gulf between grasping something intellectually and really feeling it in your bones. For example, it was years ago that I first encountered the insight that anxiety and insecurity aren’t reduced by trying to exert more control over the world; in fact, that usually makes them worse. I know this. But apparently I have to keep learning it, over and over. Its correctness isn’t sufficient for it to get into my brain once and for all; that takes repeated experience. As a result, I continue to “suddenly realise” things I already wrote an entire book about.
If nothing else, this should be a caution against getting too frustrated with that one friend of yours who keeps getting into the same kind of pickle, time and again, deaf to the obviously good advice that everyone keeps offering. You know the type. We’ve all got a friend like that. The scary thought is that, for some of your friends, it’s probably you.
Adapted from http://www.theguardian.com/lifeandstyle/2015/sep/11/ taking-your-own-advice-oliver-burkeman. Accessed on: 22 out. 2015.
Glossary
advice: conselho; to bug: incomodar; to infer: concluir;
flawlessly: perfeitamente; to muse: meditar; wisecrack:
espertinho; cynical: cínico, pessimista; rubbish:
besteira; to urge: insistir; gulf: distância; exert: exercer;
pickle: encrenca
A
combate a insegurança e a ansiedade.
B
revela insegurança e ansiedade.
C
intensifica a insegurança e a ansiedade.
D
resulta da insegurança e da ansiedade.
Gabarito comentado
Silvana FariaMestre em Educação pela Universidade Federal de Lavras (UFLA) e Professora de Inglês
No quarto parágrafo, o autor afirma que na tentativa de controlar o mundo, a ansiedade e a insegurança não são reduzidas, conforme verificamos abaixo:
But there's another big reason I don't follow my own advice: the huge gulf between grasping something intellectually and really feeling it in your bones. For example, it was years ago that I first encountered the insight that anxiety and insecurity aren't reduced by trying to exert more control over the world; in fact, that usually makes them worse.
Tradução: Mas há outro grande motivo para eu não seguir meu próprio conselho: o enorme abismo entre apreender algo intelectualmente e realmente senti-lo em seus ossos. Por exemplo, foi há anos atrás que eu descobri pela primeira vez que a ansiedade e a insegurança não são reduzidas ao tentar exercer mais controle sobre o mundo; de fato, isso geralmente as tornam piores.
But there's another big reason I don't follow my own advice: the huge gulf between grasping something intellectually and really feeling it in your bones. For example, it was years ago that I first encountered the insight that anxiety and insecurity aren't reduced by trying to exert more control over the world; in fact, that usually makes them worse.
Tradução: Mas há outro grande motivo para eu não seguir meu próprio conselho: o enorme abismo entre apreender algo intelectualmente e realmente senti-lo em seus ossos. Por exemplo, foi há anos atrás que eu descobri pela primeira vez que a ansiedade e a insegurança não são reduzidas ao tentar exercer mais controle sobre o mundo; de fato, isso geralmente as tornam piores.
Gabarito do Professor: C
