下載App 希平方
攻其不背
App 開放下載中
下載App 希平方
攻其不背
App 開放下載中
IE版本不足
你的 IE 瀏覽器太舊了 更新 IE 瀏覽器或點選連結下載 Google Chrome 瀏覽器 前往下載

免費註冊
! 這組帳號已經註冊過了
Email 帳號
密碼請填入 6 位數以上密碼
已經有帳號了?
忘記密碼
! 這組帳號已經註冊過了
您的 Email
請輸入您註冊時填寫的 Email,
我們將會寄送設定新密碼的連結給您。
寄信了!請到信箱打開密碼連結信
密碼信已寄至
沒有收到信嗎? 點這裡重寄一次
如果您尚未收到信,請前往垃圾郵件查看,謝謝!

恭喜您註冊成功!

查看會員功能

註冊未完成

《HOPE English 希平方》服務條款關於個人資料收集與使用之規定

隱私權政策
上次更新日期:2014-12-30

希平方 為一英文學習平台,我們每天固定上傳優質且豐富的影片內容,讓您不但能以有趣的方式學習英文,還能增加內涵,豐富知識。我們非常注重您的隱私,以下說明為當您使用我們平台時,我們如何收集、使用、揭露、轉移及儲存你的資料。請您花一些時間熟讀我們的隱私權做法,我們歡迎您的任何疑問或意見,提供我們將產品、服務、內容、廣告做得更好。

本政策涵蓋的內容包括:希平方 如何處理蒐集或收到的個人資料。
本隱私權保護政策只適用於: 希平方 平台,不適用於非 希平方 平台所有或控制的公司,也不適用於非 希平方 僱用或管理之人。

個人資料的收集與使用
當您註冊 希平方 平台時,我們會詢問您姓名、電子郵件、出生日期、職位、行業及個人興趣等資料。在您註冊完 希平方 帳號並登入我們的服務後,我們就能辨認您的身分,讓您使用更完整的服務,或參加相關宣傳、優惠及贈獎活動。希平方 也可能從商業夥伴或其他公司處取得您的個人資料,並將這些資料與 希平方 所擁有的您的個人資料相結合。

我們所收集的個人資料, 將用於通知您有關 希平方 最新產品公告、軟體更新,以及即將發生的事件,也可用以協助改進我們的服務。

我們也可能使用個人資料為內部用途。例如:稽核、資料分析、研究等,以改進 希平方公司 產品、服務及客戶溝通。

瀏覽資料的收集與使用
希平方 自動接收並記錄您電腦和瀏覽器上的資料,包括 IP 位址、希平方 cookie 中的資料、軟體和硬體屬性以及您瀏覽的網頁紀錄。

隱私權政策修訂
我們會不定時修正與變更《隱私權政策》,不會在未經您明確同意的情況下,縮減本《隱私權政策》賦予您的權利。隱私權政策變更時一律會在本頁發佈;如果屬於重大變更,我們會提供更明顯的通知 (包括某些服務會以電子郵件通知隱私權政策的變更)。我們還會將本《隱私權政策》的舊版加以封存,方便您回顧。

服務條款
歡迎您加入看 ”希平方”
上次更新日期:2013-09-09

歡迎您加入看 ”希平方”
感謝您使用我們的產品和服務(以下簡稱「本服務」),本服務是由 希平方 所提供。
本服務條款訂立的目的,是為了保護會員以及所有使用者(以下稱會員)的權益,並構成會員與本服務提供者之間的契約,在使用者完成註冊手續前,應詳細閱讀本服務條款之全部條文,一旦您按下「註冊」按鈕,即表示您已知悉、並完全同意本服務條款的所有約定。如您是法律上之無行為能力人或限制行為能力人(如未滿二十歲之未成年人),則您在加入會員前,請將本服務條款交由您的法定代理人(如父母、輔助人或監護人)閱讀,並得到其同意,您才可註冊及使用 希平方 所提供之會員服務。當您開始使用 希平方 所提供之會員服務時,則表示您的法定代理人(如父母、輔助人或監護人)已經閱讀、了解並同意本服務條款。 我們可能會修改本條款或適用於本服務之任何額外條款,以(例如)反映法律之變更或本服務之變動。您應定期查閱本條款內容。這些條款如有修訂,我們會在本網頁發佈通知。變更不會回溯適用,並將於公布變更起十四天或更長時間後方始生效。不過,針對本服務新功能的變更,或基於法律理由而為之變更,將立即生效。如果您不同意本服務之修訂條款,則請停止使用該本服務。

第三人網站的連結 本服務或協力廠商可能會提供連結至其他網站或網路資源的連結。您可能會因此連結至其他業者經營的網站,但不表示希平方與該等業者有任何關係。其他業者經營的網站均由各該業者自行負責,不屬希平方控制及負責範圍之內。

兒童及青少年之保護 兒童及青少年上網已經成為無可避免之趨勢,使用網際網路獲取知識更可以培養子女的成熟度與競爭能力。然而網路上的確存有不適宜兒童及青少年接受的訊息,例如色情與暴力的訊息,兒童及青少年有可能因此受到心靈與肉體上的傷害。因此,為確保兒童及青少年使用網路的安全,並避免隱私權受到侵犯,家長(或監護人)應先檢閱各該網站是否有保護個人資料的「隱私權政策」,再決定是否同意提出相關的個人資料;並應持續叮嚀兒童及青少年不可洩漏自己或家人的任何資料(包括姓名、地址、電話、電子郵件信箱、照片、信用卡號等)給任何人。

為了維護 希平方 網站安全,我們需要您的協助:

您承諾絕不為任何非法目的或以任何非法方式使用本服務,並承諾遵守中華民國相關法規及一切使用網際網路之國際慣例。您若係中華民國以外之使用者,並同意遵守所屬國家或地域之法令。您同意並保證不得利用本服務從事侵害他人權益或違法之行為,包括但不限於:
A. 侵害他人名譽、隱私權、營業秘密、商標權、著作權、專利權、其他智慧財產權及其他權利;
B. 違反依法律或契約所應負之保密義務;
C. 冒用他人名義使用本服務;
D. 上載、張貼、傳輸或散佈任何含有電腦病毒或任何對電腦軟、硬體產生中斷、破壞或限制功能之程式碼之資料;
E. 干擾或中斷本服務或伺服器或連結本服務之網路,或不遵守連結至本服務之相關需求、程序、政策或規則等,包括但不限於:使用任何設備、軟體或刻意規避看 希平方 - 看 YouTube 學英文 之排除自動搜尋之標頭 (robot exclusion headers);

服務中斷或暫停
本公司將以合理之方式及技術,維護會員服務之正常運作,但有時仍會有無法預期的因素導致服務中斷或故障等現象,可能將造成您使用上的不便、資料喪失、錯誤、遭人篡改或其他經濟上損失等情形。建議您於使用本服務時宜自行採取防護措施。 希平方 對於您因使用(或無法使用)本服務而造成的損害,除故意或重大過失外,不負任何賠償責任。

版權宣告
上次更新日期:2013-09-16

希平方 內所有資料之著作權、所有權與智慧財產權,包括翻譯內容、程式與軟體均為 希平方 所有,須經希平方同意合法才得以使用。
希平方歡迎你分享網站連結、單字、片語、佳句,使用時須標明出處,並遵守下列原則:

  • 禁止用於獲取個人或團體利益,或從事未經 希平方 事前授權的商業行為
  • 禁止用於政黨或政治宣傳,或暗示有支持某位候選人
  • 禁止用於非希平方認可的產品或政策建議
  • 禁止公佈或傳送任何誹謗、侮辱、具威脅性、攻擊性、不雅、猥褻、不實、色情、暴力、違反公共秩序或善良風俗或其他不法之文字、圖片或任何形式的檔案
  • 禁止侵害或毀損希平方或他人名譽、隱私權、營業秘密、商標權、著作權、專利權、其他智慧財產權及其他權利、違反法律或契約所應付支保密義務
  • 嚴禁謊稱希平方辦公室、職員、代理人或發言人的言論背書,或作為募款的用途

網站連結
歡迎您分享 希平方 網站連結,與您的朋友一起學習英文。

抱歉傳送失敗!

不明原因問題造成傳送失敗,請儘速與我們聯繫!
希平方 x ICRT

「Vivek Maru:如何把法律的力量交到人民手中」- How to Put the Power of Law in People's Hands


框選或點兩下字幕可以直接查字典喔!

I want to tell you about someone. I'm going to call him Ravi Nanda. I'm changing his name to protect his safety.

Ravi's from a community of herds people in Gujarat on the western coast of India, same place my own family comes from. When he was 10 years old, his entire community was forced to move because a multinational corporation constructed a manufacturing facility on the land where they lived. Then, 20 years later, the same company built a cement factory 100 meters from where they live now. India has got strong environmental regulations on paper, but this company has violated many of them. Dust from that factory covers Ravi's mustache and everything he wears. I spent just two days in his place, and I coughed for a week. Ravi says that if people or animals eat anything that grows in his village or drink the water, they get sick. He says children now walk long distances with cattle and buffalo to find uncontaminated grazing land. He says many of those kids have dropped out of school, including three of his own.

Ravi has appealed to the company for years. He said, "I've written so many letters my family could cremate me with them. They wouldn't need to buy any wood."

He said the company ignored every one of those letters, and so in 2013, Ravi Nanda decided to use the last means of protest he thought he had left. He walked to the gates of that factory with a bucket of petrol in his hands, intending to set himself on fire.

Ravi is not alone in his desperation. The UN estimates that worldwide, four billion people live without basic access to justice. These people face grave threats to their safety, their livelihoods, their dignity. There are almost always laws on the books that would protect these people, but they've often never heard of those laws, and the systems that are supposed to enforce those laws are corrupt or broken or both.

We are living with a global epidemic of injustice, but we've been choosing to ignore it. Right now, in Sierra Leone, in Cambodia, in Ethiopia, farmers are being cajoled into putting their thumbprints on 50-year lease agreements, signing away all the land they've ever known for a pittance without anybody even explaining the terms. Governments seem to think that's OK. Right now, in the United States, in India, in Slovenia, people like Ravi are raising their children in the shadow of factories or mines that are poisoning their air and their water. There are environmental laws that would protect these people, but many have never seen those laws, let alone having a shot at enforcing them. And the world seems to have decided that's OK.

What would it take to change that? Law is supposed to be the language we use to translate our dreams about justice into living institutions that hold us together. Law is supposed to be the difference between a society ruled by the most powerful and one that honors the dignity of everyone, strong or weak.

That's why I told my grandmother 20 years ago that I wanted to go to law school. Grandma didn't pause. She didn't skip a beat. She said to me, "Lawyer is liar." That was discouraging.

But grandma's right, in a way. Something about law and lawyers has gone wrong. We lawyers are usually expensive, first of all, and we tend to focus on formal court channels that are impractical for many of the problems people face. Worse, our profession has shrouded law in a cloak of complexity. Law is like riot gear on a police officer. It's intimidating and impenetrable, and it's hard to tell there's something human underneath.

If we're going to make justice a reality for everyone, we need to turn law from an abstraction or a threat into something that every single person can understand, use and shape. Lawyers are crucial in that fight, no doubt, but we can't leave it to lawyers alone. In health care, for example, we don't just rely on doctors to serve patients. We have nurses and midwives and community health workers. The same should be true of justice. Community legal workers, sometimes we call them community paralegals, or barefoot lawyers, can be a bridge. These paralegals are from the communities they serve. They demystify law, break it down into simple terms, and then they help people look for a solution. They don't focus on the courts alone. They look everywhere: ministry departments, local government, an ombudsman's office. Lawyers sometimes say to their clients, "I'll handle it for you. I've got you." Paralegals have a different message, not "I'm going to solve it for you," but "We're going to solve it together, and in the process, we're both going to grow."

Community paralegals saved my own relationship to law. After about a year in law school, I almost dropped out. I was thinking maybe I should have listened to my grandmother. It was when I started working with paralegals in Sierra Leone, in 2003, that I began feeling hopeful about the law again, and I have been obsessed ever since.

Let me come back to Ravi. 2013, he did reach the gates of that factory with the bucket of petrol in his hands, but he was arrested before he could follow through. He didn't have to spend long in jail, but he felt completely defeated.

Then, two years later, he met someone. I'm going to call him Kush. Kush is part of a team of community paralegals that works for environmental justice on the Gujarat coast. Kush explained to Ravi that there was law on his side. Kush translated into Gujarati something Ravi had never seen. It's called the "consent to operate." It's issued by the state government, and it allows the factory to run only if it complies with specific conditions. So together, they compared the legal requirements with reality, they collected evidence, and they drafted an application—not to the courts, but to two administrative institutions, the Pollution Control Board and the district administration. Those applications started turning the creaky wheels of enforcement. A pollution officer came for a site inspection, and after that, the company started running an air filtration system it was supposed to have been using all along. It also started covering the 100 trucks that come and go from that plant every day. Those two measures reduced the air pollution considerably. The case is far from over, but learning and using law gave Ravi hope.

There are people like Kush walking alongside people like Ravi in many places. Today, I work with a group called Namati. Namati helps convene a global network dedicated to legal empowerment. All together, we are over a thousand organizations in 120 countries. Collectively, we deploy tens of thousands of community paralegals.

Let me give you another example. This is Khadija Hamsa. She is one of five million people in Kenya who faces a discriminatory vetting process when trying to obtain a national ID card. It is like the Jim Crow South in the United States. If you are from a certain set of tribes, most of them Muslim, you get sent to a different line. Without an ID, you can't apply for a job. You can't get a bank loan. You can't enroll in university. You are excluded from society. Khadija tried off and on to get an ID for eight years, without success. Then she met a paralegal working in her community named Hassan Kassim. Hassan explained to Khadija how vetting works, he helped her gather the documents she needed, helped prep her to go before the vetting committee. Finally, she was able to get an ID with Hassan's help. First thing she did with it was use it to apply for birth certificates for her children, which they need in order to go to school.

In the United States, among many other problems, we have a housing crisis. In many cities, 90 percent of the landlords in housing court have attorneys, while 90 percent of the tenants do not. In New York, a new crew of paralegals—they're called Access to Justice Navigators—helps people to understand housing law and to advocate for themselves. Normally in New York, one out of nine tenants brought to housing court gets evicted. Researchers took a look at 150 cases in which people had help from these paralegals, and they found no evictions at all, not one. A little bit of legal empowerment can go a long way.

I see the beginnings of a real movement, but we're nowhere near what's necessary. Not yet. In most countries around the world, governments do not provide a single dollar of support to paralegals like Hassan and Kush. Most governments don't even recognize the role paralegals play, or protect paralegals from harm. I also don't want to give you the impression that paralegals and their clients win every time. Not at all. That cement factory behind Ravi's village, it's been turning off the filtration system at night, when it's least likely that the company would get caught. Running that filter costs money. Ravi WhatsApps photos of the polluted night sky. This is one he sent to Kush in May. Ravi says the air is still unbreathable. At one point this year, Ravi went on hunger strike. Kush was frustrated. He said, "We can win if we use the law." Ravi said, "I believe in the law, I do, but it's not getting us far enough."

Whether it's India, Kenya, the United States or anywhere else, trying to squeeze justice out of broken systems is like Ravi's case. Hope and despair are neck and neck. And so not only do we urgently need to support and protect the work of barefoot lawyers around the world, we need to change the systems themselves. Every case a paralegal takes on is a story about how a system is working in practice. When you put those stories together, it gives you a detailed portrait of the system as a whole. People can use that information to demand improvements to laws and policies. In India, paralegals and clients have drawn on their case experience to propose smarter regulations for the handling of minerals. In Kenya, paralegals and clients are using data from thousands of cases to argue that vetting is unconstitutional.

This is a different way of approaching reform. This is not a consultant flying into Myanmar with a template he's going to cut and paste from Macedonia, and this is not an angry tweet. This is about growing reforms from the experience of ordinary people trying to make the rules and systems work. This transformation in the relationship between people and law is the right thing to do. It's also essential for overcoming all of the other great challenges of our times. We are not going to avert environmental collapse if the people most affected by pollution don't have a say in what happens to the land and the water, and we won't succeed in reducing poverty or expanding opportunity if poor people can't exercise their basic rights. And I believe we won't overcome the despair that authoritarian politicians prey upon if our systems stay rigged.

I called Ravi before coming here to ask permission to share his story. I asked if there was any message he wanted to give people. He said, "Wake up." "Don't be afraid." "Fight with paper." By that I think he means fight using law rather than guns. "Maybe not today, maybe not this year, maybe not in five years, but find justice."

If this guy, whose entire community is being poisoned every single day, who was ready to take his own life—if he's not giving up on seeking justice, then the world can't give up either. Ultimately, what Ravi calls "fighting with paper" is about forging a deeper version of democracy in which we the people, we don't just cast ballots every few years, we take part daily in the rules and institutions that hold us together, in which everyone, even the least powerful, can know law, use law, and shape law. Making that happen, winning that fight, requires all of us.

Thank you guys. Thank you.

Thanks, Vivek. So I'm going to make a few assumptions that people in this room know what the Sustainable Development Goals are and how the process works, but I want us to talk a little bit about Goal 16: Peace, justice and strong institutions.

Yeah. Anybody remember the Millennium Development Goals? They were adopted in 2000 by the UN and governments around the world, and they were for essential, laudable things. It was reduce child mortality by two thirds, cut hunger in half, crucial things. But there was no mention of justice or fairness or accountability or corruption, and we have made progress during the 15 years when those goals were in effect, but we are way behind what justice demands, and we're not going to get there unless we take justice into account. And so when the debate started about the next development framework, the 2030 Sustainable Development Goals, our community came together around the world to argue that access to justice and legal empowerment should be a part of that new framework. And there was a lot of resistance. Those things are more political, more contentious than the other ones, so we didn't know until the night before whether it was going to come through. We squeaked by. The 16th out of 17 goals commits to access to justice for all, which is a big deal. It's a big deal, yes. Let's clap for justice.

Here's the scandal, though. The day the goals were adopted, most of them were accompanied by big commitments: a billion dollars from the Gates Foundation and the British government for nutrition; 25 billion in public-private financing for health care for women and children. On access to justice, we had the words on the paper, but nobody pledged a penny, and so that is the opportunity and the challenge that we face right now. The world recognizes more than ever before that you can't have development without justice, that people can't improve their lives if they can't exercise their rights, and what we need to do now is turn that rhetoric, turn that principle, into reality.

How can we help? What can people in this room do?

Great question. Thank you for asking. I would say three things. One is invest. If you have 10 dollars, or a hundred dollars, a million dollars, consider putting some of it towards grassroots legal empowerment. It's important in its own right and it's crucial for just about everything else we care about.

Number two, push your politicians and your governments to make this a public priority. Just like health or education, access to justice should be one of the things that a government owes its people, and we're nowhere close to that, neither in rich countries or poor countries. Number three is be a paralegal in your own life. Find an injustice or a problem where you live. It's not hard to find, if you look. Is the river being contaminated, the one that passes through the city where you live? Are there workers getting paid less than minimum wage or who are working without safety gear? Get to know the people most affected, find out what the rules say, see if you can use those rules to get a solution. If it doesn't work, see if you can come together to improve those rules. Because if we all start knowing law, using law and shaping law, then we will be building that deeper version of democracy that I believe our world desperately needs.

Thanks so much, Vivek.

播放本句

登入使用學習功能

使用Email登入

HOPE English 播放器使用小提示

  • 功能簡介

    單句重覆、上一句、下一句:顧名思義,以句子為單位重覆播放,單句重覆鍵顯示橘色時為重覆播放狀態;顯示灰色時為正常播放狀態。按上一句鍵、下一句鍵時就會自動重覆播放該句。
    收錄佳句:點擊可增減想收藏的句子。

    中、英文字幕開關:中、英文字幕按鍵為綠色為開啟,灰色為關閉。鼓勵大家搞懂每一句的內容以後,關上字幕聽聽看,會發現自己好像在聽中文說故事一樣,會很有成就感喔!
    收錄單字:用滑鼠框選英文單字可以收藏不會的單字。
  • 分享
    如果您覺得本篇短片很有趣或很喜歡,在短片結束時有分享連結,可以分享給朋友一同欣賞,一起看YouTube學英文!

    或是您有收錄很優秀的句子時,也可以分享佳句給大家,一同看佳句學英文!