AP Lang FRQ Outlining Experience- 3 FRQs

The following is from the Web page of a person dedicated to space travel. In my opinion, the manned space exploration program is absolutely worth the cost. The money spent on manned space exploration is spent right here on Earth and most of it is spent in the US. We do not yet have a Bank of the Milky Way, the First International Bank of Mars, or a Lunar Mutual Savings and Loan. The money that is spent goes to manufacturing, research and development, salaries, benefits, insurance companies, doctors, teachers, scientists, students, blue- and white-collar workers, and corporations and businesses both large and small. The money disperses throughout the economy in the same way as money spent on medical research, building houses, or any other activity we engage in with government or even private spending. We have our work cut out for us as we move forward in this new century. We don’t seem to get along well with each other here on Earth, but we do quite well in space. Space is our model for all nations. Notice how many more nations are talking about and wanting to get into the manned space act. India, Russia, China, Japan, and the European Space Agency, for starters, all want a manned mission to the Moon and it won’t stop there. These countries and agencies know that manned space exploration builds wealth for their nation, solves problems and enhances life for their people right here on Earth, and shows us the way for how we can all live together in peace. Manned space exploration is absolutely worth the investment. It’s not just about what we learn out there in space, or about ourselves, or how to be a better steward of precious Earth. It’s about how we live here on Earth together and what type of future we want for ourselves and children. Manned space exploration is the path to how we build a better life for ourselves here on Earth, and how we can give hope and provide inspiration for our youngsters to grow up, do the schoolwork, and accept the challenges that await them to make our world even better. Whatever we spend on manned space exploration is a bargain and our investment will be returned to us many times over, both quantitatively and qualitatively.

The following is a description of the National Institutes of Health (NIH), a government-funded agency whose mission is to improve health. The Nation’s Medical Research Agency The National Institutes of Health (NIH), a part of the U.S. Department of Health and Human Services, is the primary Federal agency for conducting and supporting medical research. Helping to lead the way toward important medical discoveries that improve people’s health and save lives, NIH scientists investigate ways to prevent disease as well as the causes, treatments, and even cures for common and rare diseases. Composed of 27 Institutes and Centers, the NIH provides leadership and financial support to researchers in every state and throughout the world. . . .

In the past several decades, NIH-supported research, and its national programs to communicate the results of research, played a major role in achievements such as:

• Death rates from heart disease and stroke fell by 40% and 51%, respectively, between 1975 and 2000.

• The overall five-year survival rate for childhood cancers rose to nearly 80% during the 1990s from under 60% in the 1970s.

• The number of AIDS-related deaths fell by about 70% between 1995 and 2001.

• Sudden infant death syndrome rates fell by more than 50% between 1994 and 2000.

• Infectious diseases—such as rubella, whooping cough, and pneumococcal pneumonia—that once killed and disabled millions of people are now prevented by vaccines.

• Quality of life for 19 million Americans suffering with depression has improved as a result of more effective medication and psychotherapy.

The following excerpt appeared on the Web page of a group dedicated to ethics. In the budget unveiled on Monday, almost $17 billion will fly into NASA’s coffers with around $5.3 billion dedicated to space exploration. The Crew Exploration Vehicle and Launch Vehicles will be built; new spacecraft on their way to the moon and Mars will be whizzing overhead by 2014. NASA chief Michael Griffin claimed that this new budget would set the stage for “the expansion of human presence into the solar system.” But before we think about exploring—and potentially exploiting—“the final frontier,” we would do well to remember that we do not have a very good track record in protecting our planet home. We have expanded human presence into pristine forests resulting in the disruption of migratory routes, soil erosion, and species extinction. What can be learned from our presence on Earth about the potential impact of our forays into the outer reaches of the solar system? We are the only earthly creatures with the capacity to extend our influence beyond the 4 corners of the globe. This puts on us the responsibility to acknowledge that, despite the depths of space, it is not so limitless as to be able to weather mistreatment or suffer every demand we may place on it. One way to think about expanding our presence in the solar system is through the lens of stewardship. Stewardship envisions humans not as owners of the solar system but as responsible managers of its wonder and beauty. Stewardship holds us accountable for a prudent use of space resources. Such responsibility may support exploration of the final frontier, but at the same time it warns against exploitation of its resources. We must account for our urges and actions in terms of their impact on others, the universe, and the future. As we boldly plan to extend ourselves to places where no one has gone before, we would do well to consider the following principles: 1. Space preservation requires that the solar system be valued for its own sake, not on the basis of what it can do for us. 2. Space conservation insists that extraterrestrial resources ought not to be exploited to benefit the few at the expense of the many or of the solar system itself. 3. Space sustainability asks that our explorations “do no harm” and that we leave the moon, Mars, and space itself no worse—and perhaps better—than we found them. As we expand human presence into the solar system, we ought not to park ethical considerations next to the launching pad. We must take our best ethical thinking with us as we cross the frontier of space exploration.

The following is excerpted from an article about spreading infection via space. Because extraterrestrial life may exist, planetary exploration could bring trouble if people are not careful enough. This danger was recognized decades ago, when astronauts ventured to the Moon. When the crews returned, they were quarantined to prevent “back contamination,” the hazard that some infectious extraterrestrial germ might be riding with them. The safety procedures were largely symbolic: After all, who knew the incubation period for some hypothetical other-worldly microbe? Whether the hardware and samples returned needed sterilization was also largely a matter of speculation. Subsequent planetary exploration has not involved astronauts, nor have samples or hardware been returned, so back contamination has not been an issue. But forward contamination—that is, the infection of alien ecosystems by terrestrial organisms hitchhiking on a spacecraft—is a distinct possibility.

The following is excerpted from a book written by one of the first astronauts in space. I really believe that if the political leaders of the world could see their planet from a distance of, let’s say, 100,000 miles, their outlook would be fundamentally changed. That all-important border would be invisible, that noisy argument suddenly silenced. The tiny globe would continue to turn, serenely ignoring its subdivisions, presenting a unified façade that would cry out for unified understanding, for homogeneous treatment. The earth must become as it appears: blue and white, not capitalist or Communist; blue and white, not rich or poor; blue and white, not envious or envied. I am not a naïve man. I don’t believe that a glance from 100,000 miles out would cause a Prime Minister to scurry back to his parliament with a disarmament plan, but I do think it would plant a seed that ultimately could grow into such concrete action. Just because borders are invisible from space doesn’t mean that they’re not real—they are, and I like them. . . . What I am saying, however, is that all countries must begin thinking of solutions to their problems which benefit the entire globe, not simply their own national interests. The smoke from the Saar Valley may pollute half a dozen other countries, depending on the direction of the wind. We all know that, but it must be seen to make an indelible impression, to produce an emotional impact that makes one argue for long-term virtues at the expense of short-term gains. I think the view from 100,000 miles could be invaluable in getting people together to work out joint solutions, by causing them to realize that the planet we share unites us in a way far more basic and far more important than differences in skin color or religion or economic system. The pity of it is that so far the view from 100,000 miles has been the exclusive property of a handful of test pilots, rather than the world leaders who need this new perspective, or the poets who might communicate it to them.

The following excerpt is the text of an oral commentary aired on the radio. I own a telescope. I own a lot of books on the nighttime sky and cosmology and the big bang. I get goose bumps when I see a picture of the earth from space. The Imax space movies bring tears to my eyes. But I get no thrill from the Bush plan to put Americans on Mars. As much as I like space and the idea of people on Mars, I don’t see the case for using taxpayer money to get it done. Don’t tell me about all the spin-off technologies . . . . Leave the money here on earth.

Certainty creates strength. Certainty gives one something upon which to lean. Uncertainty creates weakness. Uncertainty makes one tentative if not fearful, and tentative steps, even when in the right direction, may not overcome significant obstacles.

To be a scientist requires not only intelligence and curiosity, but passion, patience, creativity, self-sufficiency, and courage. It is not the courage to venture into the unknown. It is the courage to accept—indeed, embrace—uncertainty. For as Claude Bernard, the great French physiologist of the nineteenth century, said, “Science teaches us to doubt.”

A scientist must accept the fact that all his or her work, even beliefs, may break apart upon the sharp edge of a single laboratory finding. And just as Einstein refused to accept his own theory until his predictions were tested, one must seek out such findings. Ultimately a scientist has nothing to believe in but the process of inquiry. To move forcefully and aggressively even while uncertain requires a confidence and strength deeper than physical courage.

All real scientists exist on the frontier. Even the least ambitious among them deal with the unknown, if only one step beyond the known. The best among them move deep into a wilderness region where they know almost nothing, where the very tools and techniques needed to clear the wilderness, to bring order to it, do not exist. There they probe in a disciplined way. There a single step can take them through the looking glass into a world that seems entirely different, and if they are at least partly correct their probing acts like a crystal to precipitate an order out of chaos, to create form, structure, and direction. A single step can also take one off a cliff.

In the wilderness the scientist must create . . . everything. It is grunt work, tedious work that begins with figuring out what tools one needs and then making them. A shovel can dig up dirt but cannot penetrate rock. Would a pick be best, or would dynamite be better—or would dynamite be too indiscriminately destructive? If the rock is impenetrable, if dynamite would destroy what one is looking for, is there another way of getting information about what the rock holds? There is a stream passing over the rock. Would analyzing the water after it passes over the rock reveal anything useful? How would one analyze it?

Ultimately, if the researcher succeeds, a flood of colleagues will pave roads over the path laid, and those roads will be orderly and straight, taking an investigator in minutes to a place the pioneer spent months or years looking for. And the perfect tool will be available for purchase, just as laboratory mice can now be ordered from supply houses.

Not all scientific investigators can deal comfortably with uncertainty, and those who can may not be creative enough to understand and design the experiments that will illuminate a subject—to know both where and how to look. Others may lack the confidence to persist. Experiments do not simply work. Regardless of design and preparation, experiments—especially at the beginning, when one proceeds by intelligent guesswork—rarely yield the results desired. An investigator must make them work. The less known, the more one has to manipulate and even force experiments to yield an answer.

“Adversity has the effect of eliciting talents which in prosperous circumstances would have lain dormant.”