Questões de Inglês

Text

President Obama’s Speech in Hiroshima, Japan

[1]   Seventy-one years ago, on a bright  

cloudless morning, death fell from the sky and  

the world was changed. A flash of light and a  

wall of fire destroyed a city and demonstrated  

[5] that mankind possessed the means to destroy  

itself. 

  It is not the fact of war that sets  

Hiroshima apart. Artifacts tell us that violent  

conflict appeared with the very first man. Our  

[10] early ancestors having learned to make blades  

from flint and spears from wood used these  

tools not just for hunting but against their  

own kind. On every continent, the history of  

civilization is filled with war, whether driven  

[15] by scarcity of grain or hunger for gold, comp

elled by nationalist fervor or religious zeal. 

Empires have risen and fallen. Peoples have  

been subjugated and liberated. And at each  

juncture, innocents have suffered, a countless  

[20] toll, their names forgotten by time. 

  The world war that reached its brutal  

end in Hiroshima and Nagasaki was fought  

among the wealthiest and most powerful of  

nations. Their civilizations had given the world  

[25] great cities and magnificent art. Their thinkers  

had advanced ideas of justice and harmony  

and truth. And yet the war grew out of the  

same base instinct for domination or conquest  

that had caused conflicts among the simplest  

[30] tribes, an old pattern amplified by new  

capabilities and without new constraints. 

  In the image of a mushroom cloud that  

rose into these skies, we are most starkly 

reminded of humanity’s core contradiction.  

[35] How the very spark that marks us as a  

species, our thoughts, our imagination, our  

language, our toolmaking, our ability to set  

ourselves apart from nature and bend it to our  

will — those very things also give us the  

[40] capacity for unmatched destruction. 

  How often does material advancement  

or social innovation blind us to this truth? How  

easily we learn to justify violence in the name  

of some higher cause. 

[45]   Every great religion promises a pathway  

to love and peace and righteousness, and yet  

no religion has been spared from believers  

who have claimed their faith as a license to  

kill. 

[50]   Nations arise telling a story that binds  

people together in sacrifice and cooperation,  

allowing for remarkable feats. But those same  

stories have so often been used to oppress  

and dehumanize those who are different. 

[55]   Science allows us to communicate  

across the seas and fly above the clouds, to  

cure disease and understand the cosmos, but  

those same discoveries can be turned into  

ever more efficient killing machines. 

[60]   The wars of the modern age teach us  

this truth. Hiroshima teaches this truth.  

Technological progress without an equivalent  

progress in human institutions can doom us.  

The scientific revolution that led to the  

[65] splitting of an atom requires a moral  

revolution as well. 

  Mere words cannot give voice to such  

suffering. But we have a shared responsibility  

to look directly into the eye of history and ask  

[70] what we must do differently to curb such  

suffering again. 

  Since that fateful day, we have made  

choices that give us hope. The United States  

and Japan have forged not only an alliance but  

[75] a friendship that has won far more for our  

people than we could ever claim through war.  

The nations of Europe built a union that  

replaced battlefields with bonds of commerce  

and democracy. Oppressed people and nations  

[80] won liberation. An international community  

established institutions and treaties that work  

to avoid war and aspire to restrict and roll  

back and ultimately eliminate the existence of  

nuclear weapons. 

[85]   Still, every act of aggression between  

nations, every act of terror and corruption and  

cruelty and oppression that we see around the  

world shows our work is never done. We may  

not be able to eliminate man’s capacity to do  

[90] evil, so nations and the alliances that we form

must possess the means to defend ourselves.

But among those nations like my own that

hold nuclear stockpiles, we must have the

courage to escape the logic of fear and pursue

[95] a world without them.

We may not realize this goal in my

lifetime, but persistent effort can roll back the

possibility of catastrophe. We can chart a

course that leads to the destruction of these

[100] stockpiles. We can stop the spread to new

nations and secure deadly materials from

fanatics.

And yet that is not enough. For we see

around the world today how even the crudest

[105] rifles and barrel bombs can serve up violence

on a terrible scale. We must change our mindset

about war itself. To prevent conflict

through diplomacy and strive to end conflicts

after they’ve begun. To see our growing

[110] interdependence as a cause for peaceful

cooperation and not violent competition. To

define our nations not by our capacity to

destroy but by what we build. And perhaps,

above all, we must reimagine our connection

[115] to one another as members of one human

race.

For this, too, is what makes our species

unique. We’re not bound by genetic code to

repeat the mistakes of the past. We can learn.

[120] We can choose. We can tell our children a

Text

President Obama’s Speech in Hiroshima, Japan

[1]   Seventy-one years ago, on a bright  

cloudless morning, death fell from the sky and  

the world was changed. A flash of light and a  

wall of fire destroyed a city and demonstrated  

[5] that mankind possessed the means to destroy  

itself. 

  It is not the fact of war that sets  

Hiroshima apart. Artifacts tell us that violent  

conflict appeared with the very first man. Our  

[10] early ancestors having learned to make blades  

from flint and spears from wood used these  

tools not just for hunting but against their  

own kind. On every continent, the history of  

civilization is filled with war, whether driven  

[15] by scarcity of grain or hunger for gold, comp

elled by nationalist fervor or religious zeal. 

Empires have risen and fallen. Peoples have  

been subjugated and liberated. And at each  

juncture, innocents have suffered, a countless  

[20] toll, their names forgotten by time. 

  The world war that reached its brutal  

end in Hiroshima and Nagasaki was fought  

among the wealthiest and most powerful of  

nations. Their civilizations had given the world  

[25] great cities and magnificent art. Their thinkers  

had advanced ideas of justice and harmony  

and truth. And yet the war grew out of the  

same base instinct for domination or conquest  

that had caused conflicts among the simplest  

[30] tribes, an old pattern amplified by new  

capabilities and without new constraints. 

  In the image of a mushroom cloud that  

rose into these skies, we are most starkly 

reminded of humanity’s core contradiction.  

[35] How the very spark that marks us as a  

species, our thoughts, our imagination, our  

language, our toolmaking, our ability to set  

ourselves apart from nature and bend it to our  

will — those very things also give us the  

[40] capacity for unmatched destruction. 

  How often does material advancement  

or social innovation blind us to this truth? How  

easily we learn to justify violence in the name  

of some higher cause. 

[45]   Every great religion promises a pathway  

to love and peace and righteousness, and yet  

no religion has been spared from believers  

who have claimed their faith as a license to  

kill. 

[50]   Nations arise telling a story that binds  

people together in sacrifice and cooperation,  

allowing for remarkable feats. But those same  

stories have so often been used to oppress  

and dehumanize those who are different. 

[55]   Science allows us to communicate  

across the seas and fly above the clouds, to  

cure disease and understand the cosmos, but  

those same discoveries can be turned into  

ever more efficient killing machines. 

[60]   The wars of the modern age teach us  

this truth. Hiroshima teaches this truth.  

Technological progress without an equivalent  

progress in human institutions can doom us.  

The scientific revolution that led to the  

[65] splitting of an atom requires a moral  

revolution as well. 

  Mere words cannot give voice to such  

suffering. But we have a shared responsibility  

to look directly into the eye of history and ask  

[70] what we must do differently to curb such  

suffering again. 

  Since that fateful day, we have made  

choices that give us hope. The United States  

and Japan have forged not only an alliance but  

[75] a friendship that has won far more for our  

people than we could ever claim through war.  

The nations of Europe built a union that  

replaced battlefields with bonds of commerce  

and democracy. Oppressed people and nations  

[80] won liberation. An international community  

established institutions and treaties that work  

to avoid war and aspire to restrict and roll  

back and ultimately eliminate the existence of  

nuclear weapons. 

[85]   Still, every act of aggression between  

nations, every act of terror and corruption and  

cruelty and oppression that we see around the  

world shows our work is never done. We may  

not be able to eliminate man’s capacity to do  

[90] evil, so nations and the alliances that we form

must possess the means to defend ourselves.

But among those nations like my own that

hold nuclear stockpiles, we must have the

courage to escape the logic of fear and pursue

[95] a world without them.

We may not realize this goal in my

lifetime, but persistent effort can roll back the

possibility of catastrophe. We can chart a

course that leads to the destruction of these

[100] stockpiles. We can stop the spread to new

nations and secure deadly materials from

fanatics.

And yet that is not enough. For we see

around the world today how even the crudest

[105] rifles and barrel bombs can serve up violence

on a terrible scale. We must change our mindset

about war itself. To prevent conflict

through diplomacy and strive to end conflicts

after they’ve begun. To see our growing

[110] interdependence as a cause for peaceful

cooperation and not violent competition. To

define our nations not by our capacity to

destroy but by what we build. And perhaps,

above all, we must reimagine our connection

[115] to one another as members of one human

race.

For this, too, is what makes our species

unique. We’re not bound by genetic code to

repeat the mistakes of the past. We can learn.

[120] We can choose. We can tell our children a

Text

President Obama’s Speech in Hiroshima, Japan

[1]   Seventy-one years ago, on a bright  

cloudless morning, death fell from the sky and  

the world was changed. A flash of light and a  

wall of fire destroyed a city and demonstrated  

[5] that mankind possessed the means to destroy  

itself. 

  It is not the fact of war that sets  

Hiroshima apart. Artifacts tell us that violent  

conflict appeared with the very first man. Our  

[10] early ancestors having learned to make blades  

from flint and spears from wood used these  

tools not just for hunting but against their  

own kind. On every continent, the history of  

civilization is filled with war, whether driven  

[15] by scarcity of grain or hunger for gold, comp

elled by nationalist fervor or religious zeal. 

Empires have risen and fallen. Peoples have  

been subjugated and liberated. And at each  

juncture, innocents have suffered, a countless  

[20] toll, their names forgotten by time. 

  The world war that reached its brutal  

end in Hiroshima and Nagasaki was fought  

among the wealthiest and most powerful of  

nations. Their civilizations had given the world  

[25] great cities and magnificent art. Their thinkers  

had advanced ideas of justice and harmony  

and truth. And yet the war grew out of the  

same base instinct for domination or conquest  

that had caused conflicts among the simplest  

[30] tribes, an old pattern amplified by new  

capabilities and without new constraints. 

  In the image of a mushroom cloud that  

rose into these skies, we are most starkly 

reminded of humanity’s core contradiction.  

[35] How the very spark that marks us as a  

species, our thoughts, our imagination, our  

language, our toolmaking, our ability to set  

ourselves apart from nature and bend it to our  

will — those very things also give us the  

[40] capacity for unmatched destruction. 

  How often does material advancement  

or social innovation blind us to this truth? How  

easily we learn to justify violence in the name  

of some higher cause. 

[45]   Every great religion promises a pathway  

to love and peace and righteousness, and yet  

no religion has been spared from believers  

who have claimed their faith as a license to  

kill. 

[50]   Nations arise telling a story that binds  

people together in sacrifice and cooperation,  

allowing for remarkable feats. But those same  

stories have so often been used to oppress  

and dehumanize those who are different. 

[55]   Science allows us to communicate  

across the seas and fly above the clouds, to  

cure disease and understand the cosmos, but  

those same discoveries can be turned into  

ever more efficient killing machines. 

[60]   The wars of the modern age teach us  

this truth. Hiroshima teaches this truth.  

Technological progress without an equivalent  

progress in human institutions can doom us.  

The scientific revolution that led to the  

[65] splitting of an atom requires a moral  

revolution as well. 

  Mere words cannot give voice to such  

suffering. But we have a shared responsibility  

to look directly into the eye of history and ask  

[70] what we must do differently to curb such  

suffering again. 

  Since that fateful day, we have made  

choices that give us hope. The United States  

and Japan have forged not only an alliance but  

[75] a friendship that has won far more for our  

people than we could ever claim through war.  

The nations of Europe built a union that  

replaced battlefields with bonds of commerce  

and democracy. Oppressed people and nations  

[80] won liberation. An international community  

established institutions and treaties that work  

to avoid war and aspire to restrict and roll  

back and ultimately eliminate the existence of  

nuclear weapons. 

[85]   Still, every act of aggression between  

nations, every act of terror and corruption and  

cruelty and oppression that we see around the  

world shows our work is never done. We may  

not be able to eliminate man’s capacity to do  

[90] evil, so nations and the alliances that we form

must possess the means to defend ourselves.

But among those nations like my own that

hold nuclear stockpiles, we must have the

courage to escape the logic of fear and pursue

[95] a world without them.

We may not realize this goal in my

lifetime, but persistent effort can roll back the

possibility of catastrophe. We can chart a

course that leads to the destruction of these

[100] stockpiles. We can stop the spread to new

nations and secure deadly materials from

fanatics.

And yet that is not enough. For we see

around the world today how even the crudest

[105] rifles and barrel bombs can serve up violence

on a terrible scale. We must change our mindset

about war itself. To prevent conflict

through diplomacy and strive to end conflicts

after they’ve begun. To see our growing

[110] interdependence as a cause for peaceful

cooperation and not violent competition. To

define our nations not by our capacity to

destroy but by what we build. And perhaps,

above all, we must reimagine our connection

[115] to one another as members of one human

race.

For this, too, is what makes our species

unique. We’re not bound by genetic code to

repeat the mistakes of the past. We can learn.

[120] We can choose. We can tell our children a

Text

President Obama’s Speech in Hiroshima, Japan

[1]   Seventy-one years ago, on a bright  

cloudless morning, death fell from the sky and  

the world was changed. A flash of light and a  

wall of fire destroyed a city and demonstrated  

[5] that mankind possessed the means to destroy  

itself. 

  It is not the fact of war that sets  

Hiroshima apart. Artifacts tell us that violent  

conflict appeared with the very first man. Our  

[10] early ancestors having learned to make blades  

from flint and spears from wood used these  

tools not just for hunting but against their  

own kind. On every continent, the history of  

civilization is filled with war, whether driven  

[15] by scarcity of grain or hunger for gold, comp

elled by nationalist fervor or religious zeal. 

Empires have risen and fallen. Peoples have  

been subjugated and liberated. And at each  

juncture, innocents have suffered, a countless  

[20] toll, their names forgotten by time. 

  The world war that reached its brutal  

end in Hiroshima and Nagasaki was fought  

among the wealthiest and most powerful of  

nations. Their civilizations had given the world  

[25] great cities and magnificent art. Their thinkers  

had advanced ideas of justice and harmony  

and truth. And yet the war grew out of the  

same base instinct for domination or conquest  

that had caused conflicts among the simplest  

[30] tribes, an old pattern amplified by new  

capabilities and without new constraints. 

  In the image of a mushroom cloud that  

rose into these skies, we are most starkly 

reminded of humanity’s core contradiction.  

[35] How the very spark that marks us as a  

species, our thoughts, our imagination, our  

language, our toolmaking, our ability to set  

ourselves apart from nature and bend it to our  

will — those very things also give us the  

[40] capacity for unmatched destruction. 

  How often does material advancement  

or social innovation blind us to this truth? How  

easily we learn to justify violence in the name  

of some higher cause. 

[45]   Every great religion promises a pathway  

to love and peace and righteousness, and yet  

no religion has been spared from believers  

who have claimed their faith as a license to  

kill. 

[50]   Nations arise telling a story that binds  

people together in sacrifice and cooperation,  

allowing for remarkable feats. But those same  

stories have so often been used to oppress  

and dehumanize those who are different. 

[55]   Science allows us to communicate  

across the seas and fly above the clouds, to  

cure disease and understand the cosmos, but  

those same discoveries can be turned into  

ever more efficient killing machines. 

[60]   The wars of the modern age teach us  

this truth. Hiroshima teaches this truth.  

Technological progress without an equivalent  

progress in human institutions can doom us.  

The scientific revolution that led to the  

[65] splitting of an atom requires a moral  

revolution as well. 

  Mere words cannot give voice to such  

suffering. But we have a shared responsibility  

to look directly into the eye of history and ask  

[70] what we must do differently to curb such  

suffering again. 

  Since that fateful day, we have made  

choices that give us hope. The United States  

and Japan have forged not only an alliance but  

[75] a friendship that has won far more for our  

people than we could ever claim through war.  

The nations of Europe built a union that  

replaced battlefields with bonds of commerce  

and democracy. Oppressed people and nations  

[80] won liberation. An international community  

established institutions and treaties that work  

to avoid war and aspire to restrict and roll  

back and ultimately eliminate the existence of  

nuclear weapons. 

[85]   Still, every act of aggression between  

nations, every act of terror and corruption and  

cruelty and oppression that we see around the  

world shows our work is never done. We may  

not be able to eliminate man’s capacity to do  

[90] evil, so nations and the alliances that we form

must possess the means to defend ourselves.

But among those nations like my own that

hold nuclear stockpiles, we must have the

courage to escape the logic of fear and pursue

[95] a world without them.

We may not realize this goal in my

lifetime, but persistent effort can roll back the

possibility of catastrophe. We can chart a

course that leads to the destruction of these

[100] stockpiles. We can stop the spread to new

nations and secure deadly materials from

fanatics.

And yet that is not enough. For we see

around the world today how even the crudest

[105] rifles and barrel bombs can serve up violence

on a terrible scale. We must change our mindset

about war itself. To prevent conflict

through diplomacy and strive to end conflicts

after they’ve begun. To see our growing

[110] interdependence as a cause for peaceful

cooperation and not violent competition. To

define our nations not by our capacity to

destroy but by what we build. And perhaps,

above all, we must reimagine our connection

[115] to one another as members of one human

race.

For this, too, is what makes our species

unique. We’re not bound by genetic code to

repeat the mistakes of the past. We can learn.

[120] We can choose. We can tell our children a

TEXT

  In the new documentary “Screenagers,” children can’t resist the pull of electronic devices, and parents don’t know what to do about it.

  The average child in America spends more time consuming electronic media than going to school, with many teenagers going online “almost constantly.” And parents aren’t necessarily being good role models. A British study showed that while six in 10 parents worried that their children spend too much time in front of a screen, seven in 10 children worry that their parents are the ones who are plugged in and tuned out.

  Dr. Delaney Ruston, the director of “Screenagers” and a physician serving as filmmaker in residence at Stony Brook Medicine in New York, says that screen time remains a topic that’s often contentious and downright confusing. I spoke with Dr. Ruston about her own family’s messy struggles with digital distractions, and about the surprising insights she learned making this film. Here’s an edited version of our conversation:

  When I started the film, I was a mom having a hard time with my own teenage kids. My 14-year-old son wanted to play more video games, and my 12- year-old daughter was always on social media. I was at a loss. I would suddenly get mad and then feel guilty. I realized speaking with other parents that we all felt paralyzed about our kids and screen overload and that it’s only getting worse.

  At the same time, I was seeing more of this issue with my patients. As a primary care doctor, I saw more and more kids of all ages and backgrounds glued to a screen. I felt a real need to understand the science around screen time and kids. And as a filmmaker who has worked on other movies for social change, I wanted to share my journey in order to help others who are struggling with these issues as well. 

  Excessive use of screens could harm the physical development of young people’s brains. Studies show a correlation between too much screen time and worse attention spans, as well as negative effects on learning. We talk about two really important studies in the film, one with mice and another with preschoolers.

  In the first study, scientists found that when young mice are repeatedly exposed to flashing sounds and lights that mimic screen time, they develop fewer nerve cells in the parts of the brain that control learning and memory. The same stimulus doesn’t affect brains of adult mice. There’s something unique about the way screen time impacts the developing brain.

  In the other study with preschoolers, researchers divided 60 kids into two groups. Half watched fast-paced images on screens for about 10 minutes, while the other half drew with crayons in another room. Then all the kids took the same test of cognitive skills. The kids who were exposed to the screens did significantly worse on the exams.

  Our current fast-paced digital media, from flash games and online videos, to social media feeds and constant texting, seems to tire the brain. This has major implications for kids and how they reach their full academic potential.

  I want every parent to know two main scientific facts: The first is that the part of the brain responsible for things such as planning, decision-making and impulse control (the frontal cortex) grows slowly over the teen years and is not fully developed until our 20s. The second is that screen time releases the chemical dopamine in the reward centers of the brain, and there is no other time in life when you’re as susceptible to that pleasure-producing chemical than in adolescence.

  The worst thing a parent can do is hand over a smartphone and hope for the best. But parents often feel like trying to set limits is pointless, that the cat is out of the bag, tech is everywhere. I hear all kinds of excuses. But kids’ brains aren’t wired to self-regulate. They can’t do it without you, and they shouldn’t have to.

  Given the right guidelines, kids can increase self-control over time. And that’s a more important indicator of success than even I.Q. I was really surprised, and you’ll see in the film, kids consistently told me that they want rules around their screen time.

  So you have to set guidelines. Two of our rules are: No phones in bedrooms at night, and no phone use in the car. We use alarm clocks and talk with each other instead. Those are the easy ones. For the rest of the “rules,” and what you’ll see after a few painful mistakes on my part in the film, is that it’s best to create a contract with your kids’ input. That’s right. Kids don’t want to be held to a higher standard than their parents, and that’s a big issue. You can’t punish your kids for breaking the rules when you can’t put your own devices down. Also, don’t make rules that don’t make sense, and remember that humans respond better to reward than punishment.

From: www.nytimes.com/2016/03/15

As to the use of controlling rules or guidelines by parents in relation to their children’s screen time, the director of the film found out that

TEXT

  In the new documentary “Screenagers,” children can’t resist the pull of electronic devices, and parents don’t know what to do about it.

  The average child in America spends more time consuming electronic media than going to school, with many teenagers going online “almost constantly.” And parents aren’t necessarily being good role models. A British study showed that while six in 10 parents worried that their children spend too much time in front of a screen, seven in 10 children worry that their parents are the ones who are plugged in and tuned out.

  Dr. Delaney Ruston, the director of “Screenagers” and a physician serving as filmmaker in residence at Stony Brook Medicine in New York, says that screen time remains a topic that’s often contentious and downright confusing. I spoke with Dr. Ruston about her own family’s messy struggles with digital distractions, and about the surprising insights she learned making this film. Here’s an edited version of our conversation:

  When I started the film, I was a mom having a hard time with my own teenage kids. My 14-year-old son wanted to play more video games, and my 12- year-old daughter was always on social media. I was at a loss. I would suddenly get mad and then feel guilty. I realized speaking with other parents that we all felt paralyzed about our kids and screen overload and that it’s only getting worse.

  At the same time, I was seeing more of this issue with my patients. As a primary care doctor, I saw more and more kids of all ages and backgrounds glued to a screen. I felt a real need to understand the science around screen time and kids. And as a filmmaker who has worked on other movies for social change, I wanted to share my journey in order to help others who are struggling with these issues as well. 

  Excessive use of screens could harm the physical development of young people’s brains. Studies show a correlation between too much screen time and worse attention spans, as well as negative effects on learning. We talk about two really important studies in the film, one with mice and another with preschoolers.

  In the first study, scientists found that when young mice are repeatedly exposed to flashing sounds and lights that mimic screen time, they develop fewer nerve cells in the parts of the brain that control learning and memory. The same stimulus doesn’t affect brains of adult mice. There’s something unique about the way screen time impacts the developing brain.

  In the other study with preschoolers, researchers divided 60 kids into two groups. Half watched fast-paced images on screens for about 10 minutes, while the other half drew with crayons in another room. Then all the kids took the same test of cognitive skills. The kids who were exposed to the screens did significantly worse on the exams.

  Our current fast-paced digital media, from flash games and online videos, to social media feeds and constant texting, seems to tire the brain. This has major implications for kids and how they reach their full academic potential.

  I want every parent to know two main scientific facts: The first is that the part of the brain responsible for things such as planning, decision-making and impulse control (the frontal cortex) grows slowly over the teen years and is not fully developed until our 20s. The second is that screen time releases the chemical dopamine in the reward centers of the brain, and there is no other time in life when you’re as susceptible to that pleasure-producing chemical than in adolescence.

  The worst thing a parent can do is hand over a smartphone and hope for the best. But parents often feel like trying to set limits is pointless, that the cat is out of the bag, tech is everywhere. I hear all kinds of excuses. But kids’ brains aren’t wired to self-regulate. They can’t do it without you, and they shouldn’t have to.

  Given the right guidelines, kids can increase self-control over time. And that’s a more important indicator of success than even I.Q. I was really surprised, and you’ll see in the film, kids consistently told me that they want rules around their screen time.

  So you have to set guidelines. Two of our rules are: No phones in bedrooms at night, and no phone use in the car. We use alarm clocks and talk with each other instead. Those are the easy ones. For the rest of the “rules,” and what you’ll see after a few painful mistakes on my part in the film, is that it’s best to create a contract with your kids’ input. That’s right. Kids don’t want to be held to a higher standard than their parents, and that’s a big issue. You can’t punish your kids for breaking the rules when you can’t put your own devices down. Also, don’t make rules that don’t make sense, and remember that humans respond better to reward than punishment.

From: www.nytimes.com/2016/03/15

In relation to the implications of an overexposition of children and teenagers to electronic devices, Dr. Ruston calls attention to some scientific data related to brain development such as the fact that