Eindexamen Engels vwo 2021, tijdvak 1: vragen en antwoorden

Wolf Hall

1 SIR ‒ I applaud Hilary Mantel for refusing to dumb down Wolf Hall for television (report, January 17). If history had been rigorously taught in recent years, instead of served as sound bites to a generation brought up to expect academic subjects to be made 'relevant' to their own lives, there would be no need for such a debate.

2 The idea that by 1 the political complexity of the story, the programme would appeal to a wider audience, is misguided. What's wrong with being challenged and stretched once in a while?

Sandra Wood

The Daily Telegraph, 2015

The NHS

The efforts of the National Health Service (NHS) to improve patient safety through greater candour have been hit by the reluctance of trainee doctors to report failings because their anonymity can't be guaranteed ("Trainee doctors 'don't blow the whistle'", 19 November). There are also thousands of NHS professionals without an effective means to report concerns. And this further undermines the NHS's efforts to improve patient safety. It is essential for all staff to be able to raise any concerns they have.

Amanda Casey Chair, Registration Council for Clinical Physiologists Lichfield, Staffordshire

adapted from independent.co.uk, 2014

All that glisters Two cheers for a 'slow-dating' app

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1 n The Merchant of Venice, Portia's suitors may win her hand only by working out which of three metal caskets conceals her image. The golden box, inscribed with a promise to deliver "what many men desire", turns out to contain only death. It is the leaden casket, with its sullen legend ─ "Who chooses me must give and hazard all he hath" ─ that holds true happiness (or, at least, marriage to a fabulously rich and beautiful woman).

2 There is a useful lesson here for those with ears to hear it in the frenetic and often shallow world of online dating: the first glance is overrated. Tinder, an app that is particularly popular among the young for arranging hook-ups with strangers, is a grand bazaar of golden caskets. Users start by sizing up one another's pictures and only then get around to talking. It is by all accounts a highly efficient tool for procuring casual encounters; but not, perhaps, so very conducive to forming the bonds of mutual curiosity and affection that hold durable relationships together.

3 Appetence, a new rival to Tinder, turns this etiquette on its head. The app matches its customers according to their interests. You begin with your photograph hidden beneath a panel of 50 coloured shards. Each time you 'like' something your match has said, one of these shards is dispelled, so that your face is slowly revealed.

4 As an attempt to revive the arts of patience and conversation, it is welcome but not quite satisfactory. Likes are a pretty poor measure for the earliest glimmers of intimacy. As a universal medium of exchange, they risk undervaluing flashes of wit or kindness and overvaluing a shared taste for craft lager or Richard Curtis films.

5 Appetence is a start. But it seems that there is still room in the market for a truly disruptive dating concept: why not try turning off your smartphone, going outside and meeting people?

The Times, 2017

Gentrification

1 GENTRIFIER has surpassed many worthier slurs to become the dirtiest word in American cities. In the popular telling, hordes of well-to-do hipsters are descending upon poor, minority neighbourhoods that were made to endure decades of discrimination. With their avocado on toast, beard oil and cappuccinos, these people snuff out local culture.

2 The anti-gentrification brigades often cite anecdotes from residents forced to move. Yet the data suggest a different story. An influential study by Lance Freeman and Frank Braconi found that poor residents living in New York's gentrifying neighbourhoods during the 1990s were actually less likely to move than poor residents of non-gentrifying areas. A follow- up study by Mr Freeman, using a nationwide sample, found scant association between gentrification and displacement. A more recent examination found that financially vulnerable residents in Philadelphia ─ those with low credit scores and no mortgages ─ are no more likely to move if they live in a gentrifying neighbourhood. These studies 7 the widely held belief that for every horrid kale-munching millennial moving in, one long-time resident must be chucked out. The surprising result is explained by three underlying trends.

3 The first is that poor Americans are obliged to move very frequently, regardless of the circumstances of their district, as the Princeton sociologist Matthew Desmond so harrowingly demonstrated in his research on eviction. The second is that poor neighbourhoods have lacked investment for decades, and so have considerable slack in their commercial and residential property markets. A lot of wealthier city dwellers can thus move in without pushing out incumbent residents or businesses. "Given the typical pattern of low-income renter mobility in New York City, a neighbourhood could go from a 30% poverty population to 12% in as few as ten years without any displacement whatsoever," noted Messrs Freeman and Braconi in their study. Third, city governments often promote affordable-housing schemes, such as rent control or stabilisation, in response to rising rents.

4 9 That does not make them any less real. Residents of gentrifying neighbourhoods who own their homes have reaped considerable windfalls. One original resident of Logan Circle, a residential district in downtown Washington, bought his home in 1993 for $130,000. He recently sold it for $1.6m. Businesses gain from having more customers, with more to spend. Having new shops, like well-stocked grocery stores, and sources of employment nearby can reduce commuting costs and

time. Crime, already on the decline in American city centres, seems to fall even further in gentrifying neighbourhoods.

5 Those who bemoan segregation and gentrification simultaneously risk contradiction. The introduction of affluent residents into poor minority districts boosts racial and economic integration. It can dilute the concentration of poverty ─ which a mountain of economic and sociological literature has linked to all manner of poor outcomes, including teenage pregnancy and incarceration. Gentrification steers cash into deprived neighbourhoods and brings people into depopulated areas through market forces, all without the necessity of governmental intervention. The current government is unlikely to offer large infusions of cash to dilapidated cities. In these circumstances, arguing against gentrification can amount to insistence that poor neighbourhoods remain poor and that racially segregated neighbourhoods stay cut off.

6 What, then, accounts for the antipathy towards gentrification? The first reason is financial. ……………………………………. ……………………………………. …………………………………….

7 A second reason gentrification is disliked is culture. The argument is that the arrival of yuppie professionals will alter the character of a place in an unseemly way. 'Don't Brooklyn my Detroit' T-shirts are now a common sight in Motor City. In truth, Detroit would do well with a bit more Brooklyn. Across big American cities, for every gentrifying neighbourhood ten remain poor.

8 The term gentrification has become tarred. But called by any other name ─ revitalisation, reinvestment, renaissance ─ it would smell sweet. Take Shaw, a historical centre of black culture in Washington, which limped into the 1970s as a shadow of itself after a series of race riots. Decades of decline followed, in which a crack epidemic caused the murder rate to spike. Today, crime is down. The O Street Market, where one person was killed and eight were injured in a shoot-out in 1994, is now a tranquil grocery store. Luxury flats with angular chairs and oversized espresso machines in the lobby have sprouted opposite liquor stores. At the Columbia Room, a wood-panelled bar with leather chairs, mixologists conjure $16 concoctions of scotch, blackberry shrub and porcini mushrooms. This is how progress tastes.

adapted from The Economist, 2018

If you want to run the world, … OPINION Sarah Churchwell

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1 ecently the financier Bill Miller donated $75m to the study of philosophy at Johns Hopkins University. The size of the gift made headlines, but few stopped to remark on the other surprise in the story: that someone who studied philosophy went on to create a fortune estimated at about $1bn ─ and thought this study valuable enough to encourage others to do the same.

2 Mr Miller is anomalous, obviously. If you really want to understand how to create an enormous fortune from nothing, you should look to someone like George Soros, who studied . . . philosophy. Or consider billionaire investor Carl Icahn, who resigned last year as an adviser to Donald Trump over potential conflicts of interest. He graduated from Princeton with a thesis on "The Problem of Formulating an Adequate Explication of the Empiricist Criterion of Meaning": another philosopher. Clearly not all philosophers are moral philosophers. But they know how to think.

3 The brain is like any other muscle: working it makes it stronger, faster, more flexible. Being able to hypothesise, think conditionally and reason inductively as well as deductively are all features of the theoretical training that goes on in good humanities departments ─ and not only there. The most advanced work in mathematics moves away from real numbers toward imaginary and irrational numbers. That's where the difficult thinking occurs: in the realm of the imaginary, which is by no means antithetical to the logical.

4 The division between the arts and the sciences is itself 17 . The word 'art' borrows from the old French for 'method' or 'knowledge'. The word 'science' also comes from the old French for knowledge. It was during the Enlightenment that the idea of a 'liberal education' took hold: the great philosopher-scientists invented both our modern conception of the sciences and of the arts. In most US universities, a 'liberal arts' degree still requires that graduates obtain credits in both arts and sciences.

5 As robots take over routine jobs, we will need people who can think creatively, imaginatively, logically and laterally. Acquiring a narrow

'skillset' of the kind society increasingly demands will, in fact, leave students not equipped for the future, but vulnerable to it. This, however, appears not to be the view of the UK government. Robert Halfon, former minister of state for education, announced this week that all courses "should be about high-skilled employability". He added: "If someone wants to do medieval history that's fine . . . But all the incentives from government and so on should go to areas the country needs and will bring it most benefit." We are endlessly told that humanities degrees are useless. Why study the past? Mostly because that's all we've got. You can't actually study the future ─ you can only imagine it.

6 Mr Halfon himself must have studied something useful to become an MP. Indeed he did: politics. Emmanuel Macron, French president, also studied philosophy ─ and likes to quote it, too. PPE, the degree taken by scores of leading British politicians over the past 50 years, stands for philosophy, politics and economics.

7 Angela Merkel, Germany's chancellor, may seem an exception, with a PhD in quantum chemistry. Yet studying quantum anything is mostly theoretical, by definition. So the distinction is not between 'useful' and 'useless' degrees, but between narrow skill-based training and theoretical, independent, evidence-based thinking. Even Mr Trump got an economics degree, although he chose a business school that offers a 'useful' major in real estate studies. With all due respect to real estate studies, Mr Trump does not strike most people as very well educated.

8 The conclusion doesn't require a philosophy degree. If you want to get a job, study something 'useful'. If you want to run the world, get a liberal education.

The writer is chair of public understanding of the humanities at the School of Advanced Study, University of London

Financial Times, 2018

The allure of the British seaside adapted from an article by Arwa Haider

1 At the entrance to Margate's newly reopened Dreamland theme park, there is a sculpture created from the salvaged scraps of former fairground rides. Entitled Be Entranced, it is a colourful mash-up of coastal carnival motifs. At its heart is a red devil rising from flames poised to make mischief. The image feels apt. The British seaside has cast a spell on pop culture over many generations, but it has never banished its demons. Despite a 'candyfloss culture' of sweet treats, bright sun and giddy day- trippers, it also has an edge: the promise of escape and excess. That edge is exactly why artists, writers and film-makers seem to find it so alluring.

2 That has been due in part to a stumbling economy. Once-booming coastal resorts fell into decline around the 1960s and 1970s, suffering from the closure of railway lines and from a new wave of affordable flights abroad. More recent recessions hit seaside towns including Margate, Blackpool and Hastings particularly hard, with the Office of National Statistics reporting increasing deprivation in the poorest spots. At the same time, seaside towns have seen the arrival of high-end art venues such as Margate's Turner Contemporary and Hastings' Jerwood Gallery

• as well as the multi-million-pound revival of Dreamland, which originally dated from 1920, but had closed in 2003.

3 The seaside's portrayal in popular culture traditionally has been dark and heady, not least in Graham Greene's 1938 novel Brighton Rock, featuring cold-blooded young killer Pinkie. The introduction to the 1947 film version seems anxious not to 22 Brighton, "a large, jolly, friendly seaside town in Sussex", by displaying the disclaimer that rather, it recalls "another Brighton of dark alleyways and festering slums… the poison of crime and violence and gang warfare… now happily no more". Brighton would recur as a battleground in the 1979 film Quadrophenia and Helen Zahravi's

1991 novel, the feminist revenge thriller Dirty Weekend.

4 "The seaside encourages and capitalises on transgression," says Brighton-based cultural commentator Andy Medhurst. "Seaside culture is somewhere where the everyday rules of behaviour are put on hold. Compared to the average working week, where most people have to do set things at set times for set rewards, the seaside is a zone where all bets are off. It gives us the opportunity to write our own rules; in some cases, that can mean the usual codes of decency cease to hold much sway. Seaside towns are literally and metaphorically on the edge. They

give a very particular perspective. When you look back inland, nothing seems as settled as it once did

• and those instabilities can be culturally productive."

5 Seaside resorts have spawned multi-genre music scenes, though their once-packed piers and pavilions have lapsed into seasons of washed-up entertainers. But that trend may be shifting. Newer big-name programming is taking place at venues from Blackpool Tower Ballroom to Bexhill-on- Sea's De La Warr Pavilion as well as Dreamland. 24 , Morrissey's

1988 hit Everyday Is Like Sunday lingers as the ultimate catchy seaside lament about "the coastal town/They forgot to shut down."

6 It's unsurprising that scepticism surrounds the gentrification of coastal resorts and the invasion of 'DFL' (down from London) hipsters seeking cheap property. In towns like Margate, kitsch vintage boutiques spring up yards from run-down charity shops. But even against such forces the British seaside exudes a defiant strength. The North Yorkshire resort of Whitby (a landing-spot in Bram Stoker's 1897 novel Dracula) has drawn international crowds for a bi-annual Goth Weekend since 1994. Street art legend Banksy's 2015 bemusement park Dismaland transformed a disused lido in Weston-super-Mare into a dystopian satire of death, decay and violence for five weeks. The British seaside retains its weird and wonderful dark side

• and it keeps going, because nobody could go any further.

bbc.co.uk, 2017

Rebooting the real

As the Internet remakes us all, no one yet knows which changes matter, finds Douglas Heaven ___________________________________________________________ Virtual Unreality by Charles Seife, Viking, $26.95 The Fourth Revolution by Luciano Floridi, Oxford University Press, £16.99 ___________________________________________________________

1 WE LIVE in revolutionary times. Information moves around the world at the speed of light and is duplicated endlessly, available to anyone with a connection. "For good and ill," writes Charles Seife in Virtual Unreality, "digital information is now the most contagious thing on the planet."

2 But the history of information is the history of misinformation too. Seife, a journalism professor at New York University, takes us on an entertaining tour of the many ways we are lied to online. It used to take a totalitarian state to create an alternative reality, 26 . According to one estimate, a third of online reviews are fake. And fake images often pop up on news sites and social media, and even win prizes.

3 In practice, the democratic ideal of Wikipedia, in which we are all editors, is anarchy. As it becomes harder to sift fact from fiction, Seife observes that we "are at the beginning of an information famine." His book highlights the problems caused by internet identity: who are we online? The person we say we are, or the person typing? And if all contributions are valid, who is an authority?

4 In The Fourth Revolution, Luciano Floridi, a professor of philosophy and ethics at the University of Oxford, argues that online narratives change how we see ourselves. This is not bad per se; even offline, faking is part of life. What counts as 'genuine'

• our 'true' selves, say
• is already slippery. "What we consider natural is often the outcome of a merely less visible human manipulation," writes Floridi.

5 Online interaction just gives us more opportunity to pull the strings of a virtual puppet. But it is a complex arrangement. Who people think you are feeds back into who you think you are, which feeds into who we actually are.

6 Fascinating stuff. But, ultimately, both books suffer from being five years too late and five years too early: we already know the internet is changing us, but 30 to say what shifts are the most important. And all the while, the wheels of change keep on turning.

adapted from New Scientist, 2014

The following text is an adapted part of the first chapter of Hot Milk, by Deborah Levy.

2015. Almería. Southern Spain. August.

1 Today I dropped my laptop on the concrete floor of a bar built on the beach. It was tucked under my arm and slid out of its black rubber sheath (designed like an envelope), landing screen side down. The digital page is now shattered but at least it still works. My laptop has all my life in it and knows more about me than anyone else.

2 So what I am saying is that if it is broken, so am I.

3 My screen saver is an image of a purple night sky crowded with stars, and constellations and the Milky Way. My mother told me years ago that Aristotle gazed up at the milky circle in Chalcidice, thirty-four miles east of modern-day Thessaloniki, where my father was born. The oldest star is about 13 billion years old but the stars on my screen saver are two years old and were made in China. All this universe is now shattered.

4 There is nothing I can do about it. Apparently, there is a cybercafé in the next flyblown town and the man who owns it sometimes mends minor computer faults, but he'd have to send for a new screen and it will take a month to arrive. Will I still be here in a month? I don't know. It depends on my sick mother, who is sleeping under a mosquito net in the next room. She will wake up and shout, "Get me water, Sofia," and I will get her water and it will always be the wrong sort of water. I am not sure what water means any more but I will get her water as I understand it: from a bottle in the fridge, from a bottle that is not in the fridge, from the kettle in which the water has been boiled and left to cool. When I gaze at the star fields on my screen saver I often float out of time in the most peculiar way.

5 It's only 11 p.m. and I could be floating on my back in the sea looking up at the real night sky and the real Milky Way but I am nervous about jellyfish. Yesterday afternoon I got stung and it left a fierce purple whiplash welt on my left upper arm. I had to run across the hot sand to the injury hut at the end of the beach to get some ointment from the male student (full beard) whose job it is to sit there all day attending to tourists with stings. He told me that in Spain jellyfish are called medusas. I thought the Medusa was a Greek goddess who became a monster after being cursed and that her powerful gaze turned anyone who looked into

her eyes to stone. So why would a jellyfish be named after her? He said yes, but he was guessing that the tentacles of the jellyfish resemble the hair of the Medusa, which in pictures is always a tangled mess of writhing snakes.

6 I had seen the cartoon Medusa image printed on the yellow danger flag outside the injury hut. She has tusks for teeth and crazy eyes.

7 "When the Medusa flag is flying it is best not to swim. Really it is at your own discretion."

8 He dabbed the sting with cotton wool which he had soaked in heated- up seawater and then asked me to sign a form that looked like a petition. It was a list of all the people on the beach who had been stung that day. The form asked me for my name, age, occupation and country of origin. That's a lot of information to think about when your arm is blistered and burning. He explained he was required to ask me to fill it in to keep the injury hut open in the Spanish recession. If tourists did not have cause to use this service he would be out of a job, so he was obviously pleased about the medusas. They put bread in his mouth and petrol in his moped.

9 Peering at the form, I could see that the age of the people on the beach stung by medusas ranged from seven to seventy-four, and they mostly came from all over Spain but there were a few tourists from the UK and someone from Trieste. I have always wanted to go to Trieste because it sounds like tristesse, which is a light-hearted word, even though in French it means sadness. In Spanish it is tristeza, which is heavier than French sadness, more of a groan than a whisper.

10 I hadn't seen any jellyfish while I was swimming but the student explained that their tentacles are very long so they can sting at a distance. His forefinger was sticky with the ointment he was now rubbing into my arm. He seemed well informed about jellyfish. The medusas are transparent because they are 95 per cent water, so they camouflage easily. Also, one of the reasons there are so many of them in the oceans of the world is because of over-fishing. The main thing was to make sure I didn't rub or scratch the welts. There might still be jellyfish cells on my arm and rubbing the sting encourages them to release more venom, but his special ointment would deactivate the stinging cells. As he talked I could see his soft, pink lips pulsing like a medusa in the middle of his beard. He handed me a pencil stub and asked me to please fill in the form.

Can You Be Friends With Your Coffee Maker? Why people personify machines and gadgets

Matthew Hutson December 2017 Issue

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1 HE NUMBER OF DEVICES you can talk to is multiplying ─ first it was your phone, then your car, and now you can boss around your appliances. 35-1 One app developer told The Washington Post that after interacting with Amazon's Alexa, his toddler started talking to coasters. But even without chatty gadgets, research suggests that under certain circumstances, people anthropomorphize everyday products.

2 35-2 In one experiment, people who reported feeling isolated were more likely than others to attribute free will and consciousness to various gadgets. In turn, feeling kinship with objects can reduce loneliness. When college students were reminded of a time they'd been excluded socially, they compensated by exaggerating their number of Facebook friends ─ unless they were first given tasks that caused them to interact with their phone as if it had human qualities. The phone apparently stood in for real friends.

3 At other times, we personify products in an effort to understand them. One study found that three in four respondents cursed at their computer ─ and the more their computer gave them problems, the more likely they were to report that it had "its own beliefs and desires."

4 So how do people assign traits to an object? In part, we rely on appearances. On humans, wide faces are associated with dominance. Similarly, people rated cars, clocks, and watches with wide faces as more dominant-looking than narrow-faced ones, and preferred them ─ especially in competitive situations (like confronting a former bully at a school reunion). An analysis of car sales in Germany found that cars with grilles that were upturned like smiles and headlights that were slanted like narrowed eyes sold best. The purchasers saw these features as increasing a car's friendliness and aggressiveness, respectively.

5 It's little wonder so many companies use mascots to bring brands to life. A taxonomy of 1,151 brand characters found symbols that were human or humanlike to be prevalent: People (the Marlboro Man) were most popular, accounting for 21 percent of mascots, followed by birds (Twitter), domesticated animals (Morris the Cat), wild animals (Tony the Tiger), and various plants (Mr. Peanut).

6 35-3 When a coffee maker was anthropomorphized in an ad ("I am Aroma" versus just "Aroma"), men ─ but not women ─ felt betrayed by increases in its price. Now that speech-enabled coffee makers are on the market, maybe the machines can sweet-talk their way back into men's hearts.

The Atlantic, 2017

Mole hunting John Burnside provides an overdue defence of the persecuted mole (Nature, 9 September). This harmless and beneficial animal is killed without pity by those proud of their perfect lawns. With no protection under cruelty to animals laws, mole catchers pursue their grisly trade with impunity. The barbaric abuse of moles is a stain on this supposedly animal-loving country.

Denis Watkin

adapted from New Statesman, 2016

Britain - House of Lords

A tizz about fizz Peers of the realm resist changes to the quality of their champagne

1 Even by British standards, it has been a busy few weeks for observers of class warfare. On November 27th a former Conservative minister lost a libel action against a newspaper that said he had called a policeman at 10 Downing Street a "pleb". A few days before, another was recorded calling a taxi-driver a "smart-arsed little git" and telling him to get a better education. But these incidents pale beside the tale of the peers' champagne.

2 On December 2nd, at what otherwise might have been a dull committee meeting, Sir Malcolm Jack, a former clerk of the Commons, was asked why the catering services of the House of Lords (the upper house) and the House of Commons could not have been merged to save money. He replied: "The lords feared that the quality of champagne would not be as good if they chose a joint service." The astonished chair of the committee, Jack Straw, spoke for most of the nation as he gasped: "Did you make that up?" Sir Malcolm assured him he did not.

3 The fact that their lordships might not want to choose from the same wine list as the plebs in the Commons has raised the question again for some as to why Britain still 39 . Tony Blair got rid of most hereditary peers. But attempts to continue the changes by the coalition government were blocked by Tory traditionalists in 2012 and new members continue to be appointed. The Lords can still block and delay government legislation. And all can claim a £ 300 daily allowance just by showing up.

4 As for their drinking habits, a columnist in The Independent newspaper had a suggestion: just add fizzy lemonade to a bottle of cheap German plonk. "After the first three glasses you can't tell the difference anyway."

adapted from The Economist, 2014

Vacancy: President of the Fondation Ipsen

An exciting challenge that keeps you close to cutting edge science

Under the aegis of the Fondation de France, the Fondation lpsen (http://www.fondation-ipsen.org/) tracks progress in biomedical research with the continuing aim of highlighting fundamental advances. The ambition of the Fondation Ipsen is to identify emerging knowledge and new paradigms and to foster the most promising interconnections between domains to facilitate the process of scientific interdisciplinary fertilization. To play a part in highlighting what is at stake, to promote the interactions needed between specialists in different fields of research, and to disseminate the most recent discoveries, the Fondation Ipsen facilitates interdisciplinary groups of clinical practitioners and academies involved in basic research to meet at regular series of meetings.

The President will provide overall leadership for the Ipsen Fondation's initiatives, including strategic vision, programs development, financial management and monitoring, community relationships and communication strategy.

The President will make sure that the Fondation activities contribute to the image and reputation of lpsen in the global scientific and medical community.

Your responsibilities

• Chairing the Fondation Ipsen Executive Committee and providing leadership to the Fondation strategy, Organization and Operations
• Enhancing visibility & reputation of the Fondation Ipsen within the global medical & scientific community
• Providing leadership and Managing the Fondation Staff and optimizing resource allocation (4 team members)
• Developing and nurturing an ambitious Communication strategy both internally at Ipsen and externally with global reach
• Complying with Ethics and Compliance rules

Qualifications The incumbent should bring a combination of strong scientific/medical competencies with a successful track record in life sciences (Academia / Industry) and external peers' recognition, together with skills and experience in scientific/medical writing and scientific communication. The position is based in Paris, France.

• PhD/MD1) with at least 15 years of experience in academic research and/or in Life science industry, including significant experience in strategic leadership capacity
• Ability to translate basic science to Medicine/clinical practice and Patient outcome
• Membership in a National Sciences/Medicine/Pharmacy Academy would be a plus
• Experience in scientific publishing in prestigious journals would be a plus
• Leadership qualities and experience appropriate to interact with senior executives and renowned scientists around the world
• Proven ability to operate in a top notch scientific environment
• Proven ability to have influence across diverse scientific and/or medical sectors
• Proven ability to create, develop and sustain external networks within the global scientific community
• Strong writing, editing and public speaking skills
• Strong interpersonal skills required
• Language: English fluency required; French fluency would be a plus

To apply, please submit an up to date résumé with a motivation letter describing your reasons for pursuing this opportunity by email to Laure Storck, Virdis Group (lstorck@virdisgroup.com), before June 1st. No phone inquiries, please.

For more information about our Fondation, please refer to our website: www.fondation-ipsen.org

The Guardian Weekly, 2017

noot 1 PhD/MD: Doctor of Philosophy/Doctor of Medicine

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