Persuasion
The Good Fight
Elizabeth Anderson on Equality
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Elizabeth Anderson on Equality

Yascha Mounk and Elizabeth Anderson discuss why intersectionality and talk about privilege don’t help to build a more equal society.

Elizabeth Anderson, one of the most interesting contemporary political philosophers, is the John Dewey Distinguished University Professor at the University of Michigan. Her latest book is Hijacked: How Neoliberalism Turned the Work Ethic against Workers and How Workers Can Take It Back.

In this week’s conversation, Yascha Mounk and Elizabeth Anderson discuss the impact of unionization and structures of co-determination in achieving greater workplace equality; the need for a nuanced understanding of how belonging to different social categories can affect one’s life prospects; and how structures of domination harm everyone—including those at the top.

The transcript has been condensed and lightly edited for clarity.


Yascha Mounk: You have a couple of recent books that think in different ways about how our economic system constrains the ability of people in our society to lead a meaningful and self-determined life. 

In the broadest terms, what lies at the center of your concern here and how does it go beyond just material inequality or people not having enough staff or access to services?

Elizabeth Anderson: A lot of my work is focused on developing a perspective that I've called relational equality. And the central concern, I think, of egalitarian social movements is to establish a free society of equals—that is, a society in which people freely relate to each other as equals. And a lot of my work has been focused on various domains in which people are not related as equals, but in relationships of domination and subordination. Quite a lot of my recent focus has been on the workplace. So in my book Private Government I argued that workplaces—if they're not represented by labor unions or have some kind of co-determination by workers—function essentially as little dictatorships. And workers experience subjection, harassment, demeaning treatment, and bosses pretty much have impunity as long as they follow certain rules. So the famous law school hypothetical, which is not really hypothetical but often realized, is the equal opportunity harasser. As long as she harassed everybody equally, it's totally okay under American law; it's just when you do it in a discriminatory way that the law will step in and make the employer liable. But in reality, notwithstanding the fact that retaliation is also against the law under American law, the threat of retaliation effectively deters the vast majority of workers from complaining about harassment. And consequently, we don't really have an effective model to control bosses’ harassing their workers. And that could be not just on the basis of sex or race. Often bosses are just emotionally abusive. And sometimes co-workers are. And workers in America don't really have recourse. On top of that, workers lack effective freedoms even outside the workplace because, under American law, they can be fired for almost any reason—if the boss doesn't like your political preferences, the party you belong to or the people you've contributed money to, or they don't like some social media posting that you made in support of a candidate, you could be fired for that in most states. And again, workers have no recourse, even though the boss is reaching out beyond the domain of what we might think could be justifiable authority for the sake of having an efficient workplace. And here they're just exercising their power just to control their workers' political activities outside of work. There are many, many cases like this.

Mounk: One of my most striking memories from grad school is having one of these very abstract discussions about exactly what the nature of equality should be with people scribbling various distributions of numbers and worlds and planets on the blackboard. And then afterwards, in particular, there were these two professors getting into a very passive-aggressive pissing match about who was more egalitarian than the other. And then afterwards we went to dinner at the local Chinese restaurant, as was the habit of the seminar, and the same two professors got into another very passive-aggressive pissing match about who had spent more money for the vet for various medical treatments for their respective dogs, which I thought was particularly striking. 

But as I take it, to expand a little bit on what a relational notion of equality means, I take it that, that is saying, look, it's not about whether I have $500 in the bank account and you have $5,000 in the bank account, it's not just about the numerical distribution of various goods, though there may be some forms of distribution that are irreconcilable with your ideal, it's about how we treat each other in society, whether we are able in society to feel ourselves as equals in some substantial way. 

Put a little bit more meat on the bones of what it would take for a society like the United States to fulfill the ideal of relational equality that you think is important.

Anderson: Yes, so we can analyze this on several different levels. One would be a structural or institutional level: everybody not just has on paper equal rights, but in reality has equal rights. That is, they face broadly the same effectively accessible opportunities to engage in freedom of speech and vote and so forth. So we have legal equality, we have institutional equality too, in the sense that people should have equal standing in the major decision-making functions of society. So you want your elected representatives in government to take your concerns as of equal weight as the concerns of others. When they formulate public policy, there's nobody whose concerns are systematically neglected or regarded as not counting. But also in a cultural dimension, what's very important is that people not be stigmatized on account of their group identities, not be subject to say presumptions of guilt on account of their social identities, or other people exalted simply because of their race or class or what have you. So opposition to relations of stigmatization and exaltation at the group level based on social identities is also something that you want to get rid of. Now here's the critical thing and it's another point at which I depart from a lot of the luck egalitarian literature, which tends to be focused on individual differences. And of course, everybody who articulates an inegalitarian point of view hastens to add that, of course, individuals are unequal in many, many different respects, in their talents, in what they've achieved in life, in how beautiful they are. And of course, that's true at the individual level. Egalitarianism, as manifest in world historical social movements, has never really worried about the myriad individual differences between random person A and random person B. What they're opposed to is systematic identity-based inequality—racism, sexism, or subordination of certain religious groups or stigmatization of those groups. It's all group-based. And whatever you might say about the pervasiveness of millions of individual inequalities, unadmirable characteristics, you're just engaged in the grossest of stereotyping if you think that translates into group inequality.

Mounk: Just one specific question here. How do you think social class relates to those different kinds of identity categories you mentioned a moment ago?

Anderson: You mean like economic class? Yes, well, of course. Quite a lot of my writing is about class inequality. And in fact, one of my agendas is to get us thinking more systematically about class inequality, because recent political discourse has been mostly focused on race, gender, sexual identity and sexual orientation issues. And one of the things I want to do is bring class back in. Looking at class, I think, provides us a better basis for building cross-cutting coalitions along the other identities. But also because we're in a state now where our class inequality is quite extreme and it's getting worse. And that's not just a matter of how much money people have, but about their political power. In practice, a society which has lots and lots of billionaires is never going to be able to insulate politics from the overwhelming power that money supplies—political power, political influence. And so we have a threat to democracy here.

Mounk: I think we're running together two slightly different dimensions of equality here, and they're both important, but I wonder whether the relevant dividing lines within the distribution of social positions is quite different for each. So one is political equality: one citizen, one vote. Supposedly all Americans should have the same kind of voice in our political system, and in part because of huge wealth inequality, in part because of a particular system for funding political campaigns and so on, that evidently is not the case. Some very rich individuals and some very powerful corporations and influence groups have outsized power over what kind of laws get passed and that allows them to sustain their advantaged economic position. Let's for the sake of argument grant that the dividing line lies somewhere between you and me and a bunch of other people on the one side and the sort of billionaires on the other side and the CEOs on the other side. I think when it comes to a broader question of social life, when it comes to sort of relational equality in the everyday life of citizens in society as a whole, it feels to me that you and I are on the side of those that are more used to consuming services than to rendering them, more used in a certain kind of sense to being kowtowed to than to kowtowing, and more used to being the people who collectively set the relevant norms of our society than the people who feel that those norms are enforced upon them. There's a kind of 20% of college graduates and people who've gone to graduate school and you have reasonably good professions who are really setting the tone in the life of the country and an 80% who feel that they're not being listened to and their preferences aren't being reflected and who in part as a result might grow reflective, resentful against that elite. So where do you think the most salient dividing line in our society lies and how should that make us self-reflect?

Anderson: Right, so are you alluding to the class privilege of the professional managerial class in general. That's definitely there. No question about it. And I do think, however, that that somewhat cross-cuts the cultural politics of America today in the following way, that that division has been described by economist Thomas Piketty as a rivalry between two different elites, right? You have the Brahmin class, which are the educated elites. And here it's not as if elites on the other side don't have a college education. It's that they don't depend on their college degrees as a credential that's necessary for them to get access to whatever occupation they have. For magnates in the fossil fuel industry, a college credential doesn't really make a difference for them. Whereas any kind of academic or lawyer, the professional classes all need higher education as an essential credential to get their positions. And typically also the creative, the culturally creative classes—screenwriters, actors. Typically not always, but typically they also have a college education and leverage that to get into their occupation. So there's a kind of political polarization around education, where urban educated professional elites have a certain status in society and can use that often in arrogant ways, especially towards working class people, where working class these days tends to be defined in terms of not having a college education. That's a rough cut. But then you also have business elites who often have made their great financial success without specifically needing education as a credential. They might be college educated, but they didn't need it as a credential to set up their own business or what have you and start making a lot of money. You could be an incredibly wealthy car dealer, for instance. You don't need a college education to do that, which is not at all to disparage the skills that are needed to manage a car dealership (they're quite substantial). But you don't need an educational credential for that. So I do think that there is a cultural rivalry between these two groups. And that partially defines the political polarization that we see in America. On the other hand, when we look at the treatment of service workers, I don't think you would necessarily see a class difference between the business elite and the professional managerial class in terms of how poorly they treat service workers. I think there's a lot of arrogance and contempt all around. And for the business class too, there is often more direct control and subordination insofar as they have employees, including all kinds of harassment and bullying in the workplace, that employees are expected to put up with or be fired.

Mounk: What would be required for something like relational equality to hold in American workplaces? How would we have to restructure the American economy for not just the top 0.1% and not just the top 20% of a professional managerial elite, but for the bulk of citizens to feel that they enjoy that equal standing in their daily lives, including at their jobs?

Anderson: I think there's no substitute for worker empowerment. In the United States, that typically takes the form of union representation. It's worth noting that unions have never been more popular, at least in recent memory, than today. Workers are really yearning for a voice in the workplace. We have it institutionalized in many European countries, notably Germany in the form of co-determination, where workers actually have seats on the board of directors of big corporations, as well as works councils, which deal with the day-to-day experience of work on the shop floor and work processes and things like this. These things make a difference to workers' experience and the sense that they're respected. 

I'll just tell you a story about this. I happen to know an engineer who made his career in the United States but worked as an engineer in Germany for a while. And I asked him what difference co-determination made to his experience at work. And keep in mind that engineers are some of the best treated, most respected wage workers around and best paid. But he said when he experienced work as an engineer in Germany, co-determination made him realize that for the first time he knew what real respect was like, since he hadn't gotten that same kind of attentiveness to express an engineer’s concerns from American corporations. And today we could see that illustrated with the Boeing engineers in the light of all the safety crises. It's not as if they weren't complaining constantly about how more work needed to be done on the. manufacturing processes and software controls and so forth to make the Boeing Max and other Boeing planes safe. They just weren't listened to. It was a source of enormous moral injury and disaffection which continues to poison work relations at Boeing.

Mounk: I'm sympathetic to the case for unions, and I certainly see that particularly, I think, the German settlement, where you have strong union representation, but a relatively cooperative relationship between unions and management compared to many other countries, has been productive for the economy there. 

I wonder whether this isn't both overstating the promise of unions in terms of this particular political moment and perhaps the hopes for relational equality that will ensue once you have those kinds of unions. So it's true that there's a boomlet of unions in particular industries—interestingly, often industries that belong to a professional managerial class, so lots of journalists unionizing, grad students unionizing. But the overall rate of unionization in the American economy, depending on who you ask, has either stagnated or continued to decline over the last few years. So it's not clear to me that we really are at a turning point, as opposed to the kinds of industries that journalists most talk about, namely grad school where they might have just been or where their friends might be and their own workplaces which were obviously interested in sort of moving in a different direction to the rest of the American economy. In substantive terms, certainly within the professional managerial class, I'm struck by the self-confidence that many American workers have—the extent to which many of them feel that they have talents to contribute and there's a demand for these talents. And if their particular company is not going to treat them fairly or meet their needs, then they have plenty of other companies they can go to that will gladly take their services. And therefore they, in my mind, often are able to relate as equals to their employers to an extent that I sometimes find quite astonishing. 

In Europe, it can be true that being unionized helps you in these kinds of ways, but I also often find that it makes people feel that they're much more stuck in a particular kind of hierarchy that can be very steep, including on the side of the union. And sometimes it can also deprive workers of a sense of purpose within their work. In two very, very different kinds of environments, if you go to a USPS in the United States, you often feel that employees there don't have a sense of mission, don't have a sense of pride in their work. That's not always true of everybody who works there, and that does have something to do with the unionized nature of the workplace; but, ultimately, the thing that strikes me about this is not just that it's a miserable experience for me as a customer to go to USPS, it is that the people who are working there seem to be deeply miserable as well. My mother is a musician, she's a conductor and she's a leftist, but she was often struck by the difference between unionized orchestras and non-unionized orchestras, where often non-unionized orchestras had a sense of pride and joy in their work and still saw themselves as creative professionals who were aiming for excellence in a certain kind of way; with unionized orchestras sometimes when you have a dress rehearsal and you're two minutes away from the end of the symphony, they stand up and say, I'm sorry, it’s 12pm, we're gonna break off in the middle of the movement.

Now, all of these may just be pro tanto considerations. There may just be particular ways in which unions can lead to pathologies, and unions may, all things considered, still be the right thing. But I just want to make sure that we're sort of not ending up sort of painting this overly rosy picture of what an economy with strong unions looks like and how a workplace with very strong union rules can sometimes end up looking.

Anderson: I think you're pointing to certain defects of union structures that could be improved. So I think we'd have to look at the details of why there's demoralization within these workplaces. It's not necessarily entirely because of the unions, although it could be in part due to a kind of antagonistic relationship between the unions and the managers, and a resistance to flexibility at work out of the suspicion that workers are only going to get exploited if they show any flexibility. I think there's concrete ways around that. I think co-determination in principle offers, through the works councils, a way to negotiate win-win solutions for those kinds of issues.

In American history, relationships between workers and bosses have been vastly more antagonistic. I mean, back in the 19th century, you had corporate owners literally hiring private police to gun down strikers. I mean, it was just murder. The levels of violence in American labor history are just shockingly higher than what you'd see in most of Europe. And a lot of that's the legacy of slavery and the impunity that slaveholders had over slaves kind of leaked out into general contempt for workers, even after emancipation. And even to this day, I think there's a certain resentment on the part of business owners that they resent having to pay anything, even minimum wage to workers. And it's not surprising that under those conditions of contempt and exploitation that workers are unwilling to put themselves out because they don't see any prospect of gain by manifesting a more industrious and cooperative attitude towards work. So I think what we see is a systematic lack of reciprocity.

But it's possible to construct workplaces otherwise. So George Akerlof, the great economist, has a wonderful paper on efficiency wages, one of the great classics of economics, in which he suggested, in some workplaces, there's reciprocity that each side is giving certain gifts to the other in terms of extra efforts and little higher wages. You can actually have positive sum games by doing this; by offering more than what is strictly contractually required, you can build up positive work relationships. And I see no reason why you couldn't figure out clever ways to institutionalize that even within unionized workplaces.

Mounk:  So earlier you talked about the key units of social equality not being these random differences between one individual and another, but between certain kinds of social or identity categories, whether they are based on race and gender or social class. Now, one way that's become very popular in philosophy and in public discourse is to think about those relationships between those different social categories and our belonging in one or the other or multiple of these is the concept of intersectionality—the idea that when we are trying to assess where somebody stands in some kind of social hierarchy, we need to know something about the relative prestige of the underlying group and then about the sort of multiple groups that a particular individual may belong to, and that in some kind of way gives us the right way of understanding whether somebody enjoys privilege or not. And in many forms of contemporary leftist politics, that then leads to subsequent claims about deferring to the underprivileged in various forms. You and your most recent work have been critical of both the language of intersectionality and those kinds of privilege frames. Tell us a little bit about your concerns with them.

Anderson: I'm actually not critical of the language of intersectionality. I think it's an indispensable tool for social analysis. I do worry though about the translation of intersectionality analysis into popular political discourse because it hasn't actually taken fully on board what intersectionality analysis tells us. So intersectionality is the idea that for different modes of relational inequality, whether that might be along lines of race or class or gender, for instance, that you can't just predict somebody's position on the basis of one of their identities alone because they have these other identities. And you can also assume that relations of advantage and disadvantage are additive, such that, for instance, say, black women are always at the bottom of the race-gender system. Sometimes black women are a little bit better off. It doesn't erase the ways in which they're worse off than the other three race-gender categories. But it's not additive. There's not any simple relationship here.

Mounk: I believe, and I may be recalling the details of this wrongly, that there is a paper by someone called David Pedulla, who I went to graduate school with, which showed, for example, that black men are often discriminated against in society and gay men are often discriminated against in society. And the assumption of intersectionality would be that being gay and being black is going to be this kind of interaction effect whereby gay black men are going to be discriminated against worse than either straight black men or gay white men. 

Again, I may be misrecalling this paper that I read a good number of years ago, but I think the suggestion of it was that that doesn't end up being the case empirically for the reason that some of the negative stereotypes that people may hold against black men and some of the negative stereotypes that people may hold against gay men sort of cut against each other: Black men might be seen in a racist way as being overly aggressive or something like that. And gay men may be seen as being, in a homophobic way, as sort of overly effeminate. But as a result, somebody who holds those two identities may actually be seen in many contexts comparatively better than somebody who only holds one of these identities because the two negative stereotypes sort of cut against each other in an interesting way.

Anderson: Yeah, that would be one illustration. I just want to stress that, again, everything depends on the context. If you look, say, at differential police treatment by race and gender, white women come out on top. I know this from personal experience. Police are invariably polite to me. Who is treated most rudely? If we're just looking at the black-white dichotomy, and race and gender, black women are treated far more rudely by police. On the other hand, if you look at who's treated most violently, it's black men. Even in a policing context you see these subtle differences. And probably that's because police don't really fear violence from black women as they do from black men. So they're somewhat less likely to preemptively act violently towards black women than black men. That's just one example. So even within the same domain of interaction, you see these subtle intersectional differences. And that's why you really have to do a fine-grained analysis of what's going on and how people are imagining these categories, these intersecting categories, working in context.

Mounk: So where does your normative concern with some of this language set in? Is it a problem that, in theory, we could do this incredibly complicated analysis where we try and figure out, you know, how various individuals fall within various social categories, and how it is that in a specific context these social categories then lend people advantages or disadvantages, but that's often going to be very hard to sustain even in the context of a corporate training or in the context of how you encounter somebody you don't know; and so then the temptation becomes to do something very simplified. And this is something that, in my mind, at least, is this weird concomitant of intersectionality, that, at some theoretical level, it is encouraging us to be making very fine-grained analyses and distinctions. But the way it often gets used in real institutional context and in social discourse is this really simplistic way where you say, well, this person is white, so they're privileged, and this person is black, so underprivileged. And of course, often, particularly with once you're just looking at two individuals who are both members of a prestigious institution, that often will cease being the case, because in that circumstance, the member of a generally underprivileged class often has had considerable privilege in order to arrive within that institution. And so you get to absurd situations where somebody who falls into a class that in society in general may often be underprivileged actually comes from tremendous privilege. And somebody who is dismissed as just a privileged white man may actually have had genuine experiences of disadvantage in life. So is that sort of your concern about privilege frames or why is it that the language of privilege is concerning?

Anderson: Right, there certainly are empirical difficulties of this sort in assuming that you can infer how much privilege someone has just by reading off their social categories that they belong to. And indeed, the whole point of intersectionality is that you can't really do that. It's not so easy to translate group differences into differences at the individual level because everybody's unique.

But my main focus, though, is on normative uses of privileged discourse in popular politics, in popular politics of, say, anti-racist, anti-patriarchy mobilization and so forth. And there, I think there are serious normative errors that are being made when we impute advantage to people just on the basis of crude social identity markers. So for one thing, it's not that it's wrong. Of course, people in many, many contexts enjoy certain advantages or suffer systematic disadvantages on account of their social identities (that's why we need intersectional analysis to really sort that out) but, rather, that talk about privilege effaces, I think, the ways in which a systematically unequal society isn't always all that great for the exalted groups. And I think we could have a more constructive politics if we could remind people of how the purported bases of their exaltation are themselves both fraudulent and in most cases burdens on most of the members of that group. So we can see this in the ways that esteem competition works in society. Men, for instance, are constantly being tested by other men on how masculine they are: “Who are the real men here?” And the system of masculinity competition is set up in such a way that most men are going to be losers. It's a zero-sum game. You can only scramble to the top by putting down other men. And a lot of men are really profoundly oppressed by this, especially if they are seen as effeminate or gender nonconforming, not tough enough, not masculine enough, whether or not they actually have an alternative gender identity. There's a lot of bullying. A lot of men are seriously sexually harassed in the workplace by other men, not in the sense that they're subject to coerced sex or anything. They're just being bullied for being perceived as less masculine. Or sometimes the bullying is just a contest in itself where whoever emerges as the victor can claim superior masculinity even if the defeated person doesn't look any less masculine. And it's very oppressive to men in the workplace. About 25% of all sexual harassment claims are actually filed by men overwhelmingly complaining about male on male bullying. It's a terrible experience. So here we can see the system that claims to exalt all men over all women is not doing that at all. It's actually exalting bullying men, the alpha males, over everybody else, much to the psychic and status costs of lots and lots of other men. And I just want to stress that this theme that patriarchy isn't so great for men goes deep into the feminist tradition—even in the 19th century, feminists like William Thompson and John Stuart Mill stressed this point.

Mounk: I was going to mention one of my favorite works of Mill called The Subjection of Women in which he makes precisely that kind of argument, right? Saying that, of course, the principal victims of the fact that, at the time marriage, for example, gave men very extensive rights over what the wives could do and what property they could own and how they could decide to dispose of it and so on, were the women themselves; but that it also was to the detriment of men who would never be able to have the enjoyment of a relationship of equals as a result.

Anderson: Absolutely. You can have a servant wife, but you really can't have an intimate friend. She always has to reserve herself. She can't be frank because she has no recourse. He might be violent or he might just deprive her of resources or ban her from leaving the home. Back in those days, these were all legal powers that men had over their wives.

Mounk: How do you think that this insight should change contemporary politics? One issue, for example, that came to my mind, and I wonder whether you would agree or disagree with me on this, is how we've talked about police violence over the course of the last decade. To me, there's two striking facts about the police in the United States. The first is that there does appear to be disproportionate violence against the members of certain ethnic minority groups, particularly African Americans. The second is that there is just a very hierarchical relationship between police and citizens in general. The only time in my life in the United States that I find myself saying, sir, is in dealing with a policeman. If I'm involved in a traffic stop, I see myself naturally going to the script of yes-sir and no-sir in a way that is utterly alien to me. But that is the cultural script of how you engage with police in this country in a way that I don't find to be true at all in Germany or Italy, where I would interact with police much more, in a certainly respectful way, recognizing that they're professionals doing an important job, but much more as an equal citizen.

And I wonder whether the way we have talked about the problem of police violence has not just privileged the first over the second, which may be appropriate, but eclipsed the second to such an extent that it is not seen as a concern for all citizens. And the most obvious part of the case I would make here is that while African Americans are disproportionately targeted in the deadly shooting of unarmed people, for example, the majority of people who are killed in these kinds of situations are not black. In fact, I believe a plurality, perhaps even a majority, are white. And there would be a way of talking about the problem of police violence that both acknowledges that this is disproportionately a problem for African-American communities and emphasizes that it's a problem for all citizens and that all citizens should have not just reasons of solidarity but also reasons of self-interest to fight for these kinds of police reform.

Anderson: You're totally right about this. And I want to tell you a story that I got from my colleague, Kristie Dotson, who's a black feminist and lives in rural Michigan, so most of her interactions with her neighbors are white people voting for Trump. And during Black Lives Matter, during those protests in 2020, one of her neighbors was flying a Confederate flag—this is not at all common in rural Michigan, notwithstanding the fact that Michigan was actually on the side of the Union in the Civil War. Kristie though is just amazing because she can talk with anybody whatsoever and she will not harangue them or cancel them. She listens very carefully to people's perspectives and she very thoughtfully inquires about their views. It's impossible to exaggerate how important it is just to listen without judgment before you say anything. At any rate, she would explain what these Black Lives Matter protests were about. They would have very civil discussions across this political division. 

And sometime later, to her great surprise, she found that he had painted over his Confederate flag the words, Black Lives Matter. And she asked what induced him to do this. And it happened to be that, in their county, there was a bad encounter between a police officer and a white teenager that led to the police shooting this white teenager. And things clicked for this guy, right? He got it. And it was such a breakthrough, but it wasn't achieved by Kristie telling him to check his privilege. No, it came about because he came to recognize that police violence is a serious problem. And if a white kid could be shot for what the community felt was no good reason, then there's enough recognition that blacks have it worse off. It just became obvious that black lives really needed to matter in a way that they weren't currently mattering. And it's just a perfect illustration of your point that police have impunity. And that's a problem in and of itself that's been established by the Supreme Court's insistence on immunity, essential immunity, even for things that are obviously wrong that any morally sound person would understand is wrongful conduct. Police get off the hook. Okay, impunity is a problem. Yes, it's also impunity that's not equally applied to blacks and whites, but it's still unjustly applied to whites. That's just a critical breakthrough.


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