A confession: I quietly love flying. This year, I've done 163,581 miles of it. I love that when you fly a lot, the airport social media staff say 'hello' on Twitter when you arrive and the cabin crew on your home route (or even on the Brisbane-Dubai non-stop route) recognise you from last time. I like getting great service, and see so many things about systems-thinking that work well in airlines, that I'm happy to forgive small indiscrepancies when they occur. All that said, flying strangles our planet as much as eating too much red meat, and for many, many reasons, I've wanted to stop flying quite so much, while not restricting the spread and growth of the ideas from our firm, NoTosh. I'm quite sure that nobody reading this blog really cares about how much I travel, but keeping an annual count on it has become a new year habit. When I started working at Channel 4, and then continuing when I created NoTosh, I wanted to keep track of what seemed like an interminable number of miles on the road and in the air. By 2012, 2013 and last year, I was beginning to wonder if I'd ever be able to get the number of miles down when they seemed to represent even more trips to the moon and back each and every year. When you run a company based in Edinburgh with a great team living in Melbourne, you could easily spend your life on a plane - one flying to Melbourne feels better than two or more flying to Edinburgh. Indeed, in 2012, 2013 and 2014 it felt like I really did spend my life on a plane, as I went to the moon and back in my annual travel, with anything up to seven trips a year to Australia. Question: Who lives in Melbourne? Options: A. people based in Edinburgh B. the author C. people working in NoTosh D. not enough information === The correct answer is
C

In the 1970s I was a student nurse in psychiatry. I was rostered to the brain injury ward in a chronic hospital, where the patients had severe brain damage from tumours, car accidents, strokes, metabolic diseases, degenerative diseases, and alcoholism. Only about half were ambulant. Most had severely impacted recent and long term memories. They could not bathe or feed themselves. The majority sat most of the day in chairs lined along the sides of the day room. They were spoon-fed meals and wheeled into the toilet. One of those patients was Connie S. She was maybe 55 yrs old and she spent a lot of the day screaming in her chair. She could not speak, walk, or cooperate. One nurse was very impatient with her and once I heard that nurse say to her, "You think the water is too hot, do you? Then have it cold!" as she bathed her in cold water. I remember standing up for her to that nurse. I worked that ward for over a year and then, one day, just like that, Connie S. woke up. She suddenly began speaking and walking. She apparently remembered most of the things had had happened to her in the ward. Soon, she walked right out of that ward and never came back. As she left, she appeared dignified and so happy, so relieved. I was too junior at that stage to know what her diagnosis was supposed to have been, but no-one expected her ever to leave. No-one left that ward. It was the end of the line. I remember being really glad that I had stood up for her and thinking how ashamed the nasty nurse must have been. It is now many years later and I often think of this woman and wonder how she fared in her post-hospital life. Her name is not common, but every so often I meet people with the same name and ask them if they know of a relative to whom this happened, but, so far, no-one has known of her. Question: Where does the nursing student work now that she is a full time employed nurse herself? Options: A. elderly nursing home B. not enough information C. brain injury unit D. general care === The correct answer is
C

Q: A long time ago, when humans still lived in cities, on a cold morning near the end of a long, cruel winter, in magnificent Central Park in the middle of magnificent New York City, a young squirrel named Patch was awakened very early by the growls of his empty stomach. A squirrel's home is called a drey. Patch's drey was very comfortable. He lived high up an old oak tree, in a hollowed-out stump of a big branch that had long ago been cut off by humans. The entrance was only just big enough for Patch to squeeze in and out, but the drey itself was spacious, for a squirrel. Patch had lined his drey with dry leaves, grasses and bits of newspaper. It was warm and dry, and on that cold morning he would have liked nothing better than to stay home all day and sleep. But he was so hungry. Hunger filled him like water fills a glass. The cherry and maple trees had not yet started to bud; flowers had not yet begun to grow; the juicy grubs and bugs of spring had not yet emerged; and it had been two days since Patch had found a nut. Imagine how hungry you would feel if you went two whole days without eating, and you may have some idea how Patch felt that morning. Patch poked his head out of the drey into the cold air and shivered as he looked around. Clumps of white, crumbly ice still clung to the ground. Gusts of cold wind shook and rustled the trees' bare branches. The pale and distant sun seemed drained of heat. Patch took a moment to satisfy himself that there were no dangers nearby, no hawk circling above or unleashed dog below. Then he emerged from his drey and began to look for acorns. But what marvels, what miracles, what mysteries are hidden inside those simple words! Question: What is probably true about Patch? Options: A. He is cautious B. not enough information C. He is careless D. He is reckless === The correct answer is
A: A

(Q).
Juliette Murray was, like me, a kid at school who got 5 "A"s, which in the West of Scotland put a certain degree of pressure on one's shoulders to study either medicine or law. I studied European Law, and became a teacher - that's what a European Law degree does to you. She studied medicine and is today a practicing doctor, but the education bug is firmly rooted in what she chose to do next. Murray noticed that, particularly in her local area, fewer students were applying to study medicine than the population number would suggest should. Not only that, nationally the number of medical students dropping out after beginning their course of study is increasing. She wondered if we might we persuade a more representative cross section of the community to become doctors. She set about improving the opportunities for local youngsters, aged 14/5, at the time of their work experience choices. Existing work experience for those who want to gain an insight into the world of medical doctors is a sanitised course in an educational skills centre, where bored teenagers endlessly take each other's blood pressure. They have more chance of a realistic insight by breaking their arm and turning up to Accident and Emergency. As any dad-to-be donning surgical greens knows, getting into an operating theatre is where a passion for surgery will be born or, in my case, definitely put to one side as a career option. So, the question became: how might we offer a more realistic experience of what being a doctor, surgeon or other medical profession feels like? Starting with her local hospital, Wishaw General in NHS Lanarkshire, she set about overcoming what she describes as a "culture of obstacles". Two years later, though, and students are indeed undertaking real life surgery work experience, experiencing a live operation theatre and seeing the pressure of the job first hand. Question: Which is probably true about Juliette Options: A. She barely passed college B. She is not motivated C. not enough information D. She is intelligent === The correct answer is
(A).
D