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Let us begin with the term "democracy" with a small "d." Most briefly put, a democrat is one who believes that governmental rule should rest upon the freely-given consent of the governed. In this sense, all political parties, except the Communist and other totalitarian groupings, whatever their differing economic and social programs, are democrats. In this sense, political democracy is necessary for every other kind of democracy, for without it, no other kind is possible or even meaningful. And this is no mere truism but an important assertion when counter posed to the claim that although totalitarian societies lack political democracy, they enjoy economic or ethnic or cultural democracy. For it should be clear that without the strategic freedoms of speech, press, assembly, organization, and the rights of criticism and dissent-which constitute the very nature of political democracy-there can be no economic or ethnic or cultural democracy.
Very well, then, granted that political democracy is always essential to any conception of democracy, what is the difference between the political democrat-whether he is a member of the Republican, Democratic, Conservative, or Libertarian parties, and the Social Democrat?
The difference, I submit, is this: for the Social Democrat, democracy is not merely a political concept but a moral one. It is democracy as away of life. What is "democracy as a way of life." It is a society whose basic institutions are animated by an equality of concern for all human beings, regardless of class, race, sex, religion, and national origin, to develop them-selves as persons to their fullest growth, to be free to live up to their desirable potentials as human beings. It is possible for human beings to be politically equal as voters but yet so unequal in educational, economic, and social opportunities, that ultimately even the nature of their political equality is affected.
The Social Democrat therefore is interested in extending the area of equal opportunity beyond the political sphere to all other areas of social life. He believes that all social institutions to the extent to which they are modifiable must be judged by their, fruits or consequences an the lives of individual persons. It is from this premise of "democracy as a way of life," of equal opportunity for all to develop themselves as persons, taken as a regulative moral ideal, not as an inexorable, "dialectical" law of history, that the social democrat derives the justification for multiple programs of social reform-whether itbe social security, health and unemployment insurance, a guaranteed minimum family income, occupational safety, or improved and extended public education.
I shall have more to say about social democracy as a moral ideal later but now to the second half of the question: How is social democracy related to socialism? It all depends, of course, upon how "socialism" is understood. Unfortunately socialism has been identified too often, not with the moral ends of democracy as a way of life, but only with one of the means by which some socialists in the past hoped that those moral ends could be furthered, viz., with collectivism or the nationalization of all means of production, distribution, and exchange. Unfortunately, socialists have made a fetish of the means without considering the consequences of those means on professed ends or goals. Unfortunately, socialism has been too often identified with a social system in which there is no vestige of political democracy, and in which the slightest expression of dissent brings penalties that have varied from tortured exile in the camps of the Gulag Archipelago, to confinement in insane asylums. The consequence has been that the workers and peasants have suffered more and enjoyed less freedom in the nationalized economies of the "socialist" countries of the world than in the non-socialist democratic societies of the West. Unfortunately, socialism has too often been identified with a police state in which the inhabitants are penned in by walls, electrified fences, and minefields, and no one is free to leave. Unfortunately, this historical conjunction of socialism and terror has strengthened a widely held view that the only alternative open to those who love freedom is support of the free enterprise system, that any movement away from capitalism as an economic system involves the abandonment of freedom and democracy.
FREEDOM AND PROPERTY
This complex of historical, theoretical, and psychological misfortunes necessitates that were think the basic question of property and human freedom, that we liberate ourselves from the traditional cliches and slogans of socialism, and develop new philosophical foundations for a human democratic society. That, it seems to me, is one of the tasks of contemporary social democracy.
We must begin by-clearing the ground of some theoretical confusions. We sometimes hear human rights contrasted with property rights. That is a mistake. A property right is a human right. Our very personality and its expression, as William James so cogently showed in his Principles of Psychology, depends upon the possession of property in the things we own, our clothes, our tools, our pictures, our books, our homes. Even our human right to speak our minds and publish our thoughts depends upon the possession of some property in means of communication-be it no more than the typewriter and paper. But this kind of property is personal property-and one of the standard criticisms of traditional capitalism is that it has resulted in an inequitable distribution of personal property among individuals, on which the development of personality depends. (In comparison with other economic systems of the past, capitalism has been a veritable cornucopia of plenty but the distribution of that plenty in terms of personal property has been haphazard and inequitable, characterized periodically by a surfeit for some and a lack of essential goods and services for many more regardless of merit or desert.)
What is true of personal property, however, is not necessarily true of social property in the large scale means of production in an industrial society. If I have any human rights as a personal have some rights to the food, shelter" clothing, education, without which these rights are a nullity. But I cannot reasonably contend that my human rights require not only personal property but social property in the mills, factories, mines, and fields on which the livelihood of others depends. For property in the social means of production gives not only power over inanimate things but over the persons whose lives and welfare depend on their use. In this sector, property means power over human beings. Let us see why.
After all, how do we know that we have aright to property or ownership of anything? Not by mere possession. For what I can dispossess you of, you in turn can dispossess me of. Not by power of use. I may own a great many things I am unable to use or whose use is restricted bylaw. Normally one cannot use one's home for a glue factory or a hospital where zoning laws exist. Legally, ownership gives power not to use or abuse but power to exclude others from the use of what I own. Ownership of land or factory on which the livelihood of others depends gives me power to exclude them from its use or to control the conditions of its use. Where there are no other resources at hand, like an open frontier, my ownership of land or factory therefore gives me a very real power over the lives of those and their families whose income depends 0n their employment.
From the point of view of democracy as a way of life, since power over the instruments of production means power over the human beings who must live by them, this power, like all power, must be socially responsible. It cannot be unlimited. Otherwise, all sorts of inequities would develop. With the development of free trade unions and certain kinds of protective labor legislation in democratic capitalist countries of the West, there has been an impressive movement toward sharing this power. Social Democrats wish to make this shared power more responsible.
On the other hand, where in so-called socialist countries the instruments of social production have been collectivized or nationalized, without the presence of political democracy, the workers on farms or in factories have even less control over their lives than in the most ruthless days of uncontrolled Western capitalism. They can be barred from work and permanently blacklisted or herded to distant places at the command of a small minority which exercises a monopoly of interlocking military, judicial and economic powers. The agents of this minority decree with the awful authority of a ubiquitous secret police what the conditions and rewards of work shall be. If we define property functionally, in terms of access to and control of property, it is hardly an exaggeration to say that, in the absence of forms of democratic participation and free trade unions with a legally recognized right to strike, the collectivized economy of present-day socialist states is the property of the closed political corporation that goes by the name of the Communist Party. Where there is no right to strike, we have a system of forced labor. Where there is no independent judiciary, there is no defense against trumped up charges and frame-ups. Where there is no legally recognized political opposition which enables a minority peacefully to become a majority, the regime, despite its semantic disguises, rests on terror. The resoluteness of organized Communist terror is evidenced by the fact that in contrast to other totalitarian and authoritarian regimes no Communist regime that has seized power since Lenin's day has ever been overthrown. (The only exceptions were minor areas in Central Europe.)
FREEDOM AND FREE ENTERPRISE
In this connection we must say a word or two about the contentions of conservative thinkers like Friedrich von Hayek and Milton Friedman who contend that any attempt to regulate free enterprise is sure to bring with it the erosion of political and cultural freedom, and the inevitable triumph of an industrial serfdom. Such a position, it seems to me, can only be held in defiance of the verifiable historical facts.
First, in every country in the world, without exception, in which economic collectivism now exists, the destruction of political democratic institutions preceded the introduction of the collectivist economy. It was only after the Constituent Assembly, the last democratic institution that existed in Russia, was forcibly dissolved, and the minority Communist Party dictatorship set up in the Soviet Union, that the collectivist economy was established. It was only after the Red Army destroyed all prospects of democratic political life in the satellite nations, that they followed suit. And if the Nazi and Fascist command economies be regarded as a species of collectivism, it is just as obvious that they followed on the violent death of democracy.
Secondly, the largely state-controlled economies of Sweden, Norway, Denmark, Holland, and England, whatever their difficulties, exist in countries in which there has been no abatement of traditional liberties.
Most important of all, in our own country, the intervention of the state into the economy, by direct and indirect subsidies, through tariffs and regulatory agencies, has resulted in the emergence of a substantial public sector. The free enterprise economic system of Adam Smith no more exists today in the U.S.A. than the socialism of Karl Marx in the U.S.S.R. Notice, however, that if the Hayek-Friedman analysis were valid, the rise of the public sector should have been accompanied by a progressive restriction on our political and cultural freedoms. Yet the precise opposite has occurred. With respect to every area of political and civil rights in this country, with respect to the variety, vehemence, and scope of articulate dissent, our freedom is greater today than it has ever been, especially in the halcyon days of unregulated capitalism. To be sure, there have been bureaucratic excesses that are foolish, and-sometimes vicious, as in some of the guidelines of HEW prescribing numerical goals and quotas in employment, but the remedies for them are available to an aroused citizenry.
As social democrats we frankly recognize that there is a totalitarian potential in any economy which is completely centralized and nationalized. For if political democracy is ever lost, such an economy can become the most powerful engine of repression in human history. In economics as in politics, power must limit power even at the cost of some efficiency. Therefore every move towards government intervention must be carefully weighed for its consequences on the basic freedoms of society. We prefer to leave to private initiative the gratification of social needs if that does not impose onerous costs, burdens, and deceptions on the community. But if these social needs cannot be properly met by private initiative, then the community must accept responsibility for them in the same way that it should provide police and health protection for individuals regardless of their capacity to pay. This responsibility must extend to the employment of those able and willing to work but who for no fault of their own lack the opportunity. When an earthquake levels a city or a plague sweeps a community, we recognize our obligation to alleviate the conditions of the victims. When mass unemployment strikes a society with the effect of a natural disaster, why should our obligation be any less?
We social democrats, therefore, yield to none in putting freedom first. We find that sometimes those who also say that they put freedom first really mean they put the freedom to make profit first. There is room for a fair return on investment and entrepreneurial talent but where issues arise that involve the safety and security of democratic institutions and the basic welfare of the working population, considerations of efficiency and financial responsibility, although always relevant, must be counterbalanced by our concern for human beings. We must regiment things sometimes in order not to regiment people.
In no sphere of life is this so apparent as in international affairs. Other speakers on the program today will discuss the international scene in more detail but I want to relate the central issue of our era to the theme of freedom first.
In our age of military nuclear technology, in which the sudden death of cultures is possible-something unique in human history-foreign policy has an overriding importance. In the present juncture of events it is no exaggeration to say that the outcome of existing international tensions' within the lifetime of most of you assembled here, will determine the political future of the Western World in the next century. As the international situation has grown potentially more dangerous, peace has rested on "the precarious balance of terror" between the two great super powers-the U.S. and the U.S.S.R. That balance can be easily upset if one side acquires a disproportionate superiority over the other, or if one side loses its credibility in the eyes of its adversary as a potential combatant, either because it is unable to defend itself or, because of loss of faith in its way of life or failure of nerve, it is unwilling to do so.
The foreign policy of a democracy, as well as its domestic policy, reflects many elements and interests. But it cannot have any coherence unless it also reflects its common ideals too. Foreign policy ought never to become a football of domestic politics, and especially not in an election year.
My point of departure is that the prospects of a world government able to compose international tensions in a just fashion is extremely remote. The United Nations today, far from creating a unified public world opinion that would support efforts to resolve conflicts among nations, if possible peacefully and if not, equitably, has itself become a cockpit in which these tensions are often exacerbated. Witness its infamous resolution condemning Israel, which is in perpetual danger of extermination from it enemies, as a threat to world peace, and the equating of Zionism with racialism.
There are many social conflicts in the world today that flow from national and racial differences, conflicts over frontiers and access to raw materials, but they are all eclipsed in the danger they pose to world peace by the fundamental opposition between Communist totalitarianism and the relatively free nations of the world, whose chief bulwark and support is the United States. By Communist totalitarianism in this context I mean primarily the Soviet Union. Mainland China ultimately may become a great or even greater threat to the U.S. and the Free World than the Soviet Union is today. If and when the current Sino-Soviet rift is healed, a rift that has been a moderating influence on both, the prospects for world peace will correspondingly decline.
It is generally recognized--de Tocqueville and Walter Lippman have been the most eloquent on this subject--that democracies have great difficulty in developing an effective and consistent foreign policy because the very demand for openness threatens the delicacy, complexity and the secrecy sometimes required to negotiate stubborn differences. The covenants of a free people should be open but they cannot be openly arrived at in the glare of publicity. To negotiate successfully when passions and fears are rife is not always possible when the negotiations themselves are public.
Granted all these difficulties, and others too, it still remains true that in a democracy no foreign policy can succeed if its basic direction does not have popular support. Most Americans, however, currently would be hard put to tell whether we really have a basic foreign policy, and if so, what it is.
The Soviet Union, on the other hand, the chief adversary of the Free World, has a definite foreign policy and one which its rulers do not have to account for to its peoples. That policy is geared to its fundamental objective-an objective spelled out by a whole library of official documents, and reflected in its history. It has sought sometimes by threats and propaganda and sometimes by overt use of force to impose its political, social, and economic system on adjoining countries. It conceives this objective to be necessary not only for its national defense but for its ideological defense because of the possible subversive influence on its own institutions of the existence of free and open societies elsewhere. That is why it builds its walls and iron curtains, physical and mental, not so much to prevent alien elements from coming in but to prevent its own peoples from running out or becoming infected with dissident ideas.
This objective is the source of its unremitting ideological warfare against the Free World. From the very outset of its existence, the Soviet Union has been waging this war through the Communist International, the Comminform, foreign national parties and its growing powers of communication control. It frankly proclaims that whether it is called "coexistence" or "detente," this ideological warfare will continue and intensify.
THE COLD WAR
The defense against this ideological warfare, and against the accompanying phenomena of episodic aggressor after the Second World War, was called the Cold War. Despite its defects and defeats, the Cold War had at least this to be said for it-it prevented a hot world war. The great question for the future is whether and how we can prevent a 'hot" war and a possible holocaust. If Cold War succeeds in doing that, its cost will be a small price to pay.
After all, what are the only alternatives to waging an intelligent Cold War of defense against totalitarian expansion and its Gulag Archipelago culture? If history can provide an answer, it is either a policy of appeasement which, bit by gradual bit, from one retreat in moments of crisis to another, leads to capitulation and ultimate surrender or it is a policy of appeasement which by encouraging bolder and bolder acts of aggression by the enemy, finally precipitates the war that nobody professes to want. Hitler, you will recall, claimed-and the English historian A.P. Taylor seems to support him-that he was lured into the Second World War. After the capitulation to him at Munich, he invaded Poland, assuming that if the West didn't resist when he invaded Czechoslovakia--"that distant country some-where in Europe" as Chamberlain characterized it--it wouldn't resist when he invaded Poland, a country far more distant.
Actual war is not inevitable. Even the Communists who believe that their ultimate world-wide triumph is inevitable, no longer believe, as they once did, that their victory will inevitably come about through war. Khruschev has revised both Lenin and Stalin who firmly believed and proclaimed that the inevitable victory of Communism would inevitably be won by war. Here the unexpected advances in technology have undermined one of the deeply rooted dogmas of Bolshevik-Leninist ideology.
Further, Cold War when intelligently waged to forestall "hot" war does not preclude limited agreements and treaties with the adversaries of free societies. But such agreements should be subject to at least three strictly enforced conditions. First, the consequences of any such agreement, especially where nuclear arms limitations and test bans are concerned, should not undermine the position of the free world to defend itself by conventional military means. Secondly-what has sometimes been lacking in implementing past agreements-the conditions must be based on genuine mutuality and reciprocity. Thirdly, before entering on new agreements and treaties, the provisions of the old ones must be faithfully fulfilled.
Anyone aware of the record of our relationships with the Soviet Union will have a vivid recollection of the repeated failures of the Soviet Union to live up to its treaties and agreements. Nonetheless, instead of insisting that the Soviet Union fulfill the terms of the Basic Principles of Agreement on May 29, 1972, `between Brezhnev and Nixon before concluding new agreements, the United States proceeded to sign the Io-point Helsinki Declaration which in effect gave our official recognition and acceptance of Soviet violations of previous agreements with respect to Eastern Europe.
I have previously said, and it is necessary to repeat it, that no foreign policy can succeed in the long run in a democracy unless it enjoys popular support. Especially is this true if the policy involves risks and sacrifices. Popular support is largely a function of popular understanding of the basic: issues in dispute between the communist world and our own. What, then, really is the issue for which we some day may be called upon to stake not only our fortunes and our honor but our very lives? I find disheartening the widespread failure to understand it on almost every level of American life.
We sometimes hear that the basic issue is between capitalism and socialism as economic systems, This is actually the constant theme song of Kremlin propaganda despite the absence of either free enterprise or socialism in their classic forms anywhere in the world. This counter position of capitalism or socialism is not only false, for the specific content of economic decisions is not between capitalism and socialism but between more or less of either, it misses the central issue. Human beings do not fight for economic systems. Who would be willing to die for capitalism? Certainly not the capitalists! Who would go to the barricades for a totally nationalized economy? Not even the Webbs. No, the issue is not between capitalism and socialism. The issue is whether human beings are to be free to choose for themselves the economic system under which they wish la live or whether this is to be imposed upon them forcibly by a small group of self-selected rulers responsible to no one but themselves.
Or we sometimes hear that the basic issue between the democratic and communist worlds is between religion and irreligion. I have a premonition we may hear more about this in the future. In the past, President Eisenhower, whose charming and vacuous smile matched his knowledge of international affairs, and who confessed himself stumped by General Zhukov's questions as to what ideals inspired the West, repeatedly warned us against the dangers of "atheistic communism' as if a communism that wasn't atheistic would be any less objectionable. No, the issue is not now, nor has it ever been, between religion and irreligion. It has always been the freedom to choose between them, the freedom to worship or n6t to worship one, many, or no gods; the right of one's conscience to believe or not to believe, or the dogmatic intolerance that makes the state power the arbiter of the faiths of man.
MAIN ISSUE
Nor is the issue between formalism or-modernism in art or culture, on the one hand, or socialist realism, whatever that is, on the other. Once again the issue is the right to choose freely one's own values or philosophy, to experiment with new art forms and life styles, or to submit to a state-imposed view. Nor is the issue which system can out produce the other as in the famous Nixon-Khruschev debate. The issue is rather whether those who produce society's goods and services have the right at least to some, extent to determine, through their free trade unions and other voluntary associations, the conditions and rewards of work, or whether this is to be dictated by bureaucratic decrees backed by the coercive powers of the state.
In short, what is at stake is the most precious principle of liberal civilization whose roots were nurtured in Athens, Jerusalem, and Rome, and which began to bud at the time of the humanist Renaissance, and to flower when the American Declaration of Independence made the principle of freely-given consent the hallmark of legitimate political sovereignty. When we say that social democracy puts freedom first, we mean that freedom becomes the touchstone of policy, a principle that cannot be compromised whether for the sale of machinery or oil or wheat or for the benefit of any special economic vested interests that look longingly at the markets of the Soviet Union and China, as their similars once did during the thirties at the markets of Japan and Germany.
When it comes to the principled defense of freedom, and to opposition to all forms of totalitarianism, let it be said that to its eternal credit, the organized labor movement in the United States, in contradiction to all other sectors of American life, especially in industry, the academy and the churches, has never faltered, or trimmed its sails. Its dedication to the ideals of a free society has been unsullied. Its leaders have never been Munichmen of the spirit.
The sober reality of the present moment is that the credibility of the United States as an active proponent of the principle of freedom first has come into question in important areas of the world. The ineptness and failures of our foreign policy initiatives, indeed of our feeble responses to the contumely, ingratitude and provocations of non-democratic powers, have contributed to the growth of neutralism in Western Europe which, if not reversed, can result in the Finlandization of Europe. This failure to develop an active policy in defense of freedom has eclipsed the will of many in our own country to defend it. I conceive it as the historic and continuous function of social democracy in international affairs to stress the centrality of the commitment to freedom first and its political relevance, not only in moments of crisis and confrontation, but in the day-to-day business of international agencies.
THERE ARE LIMITS
We recognize that there are limits to American influence and power and that we must rely on the internal evolution and development of existing totalitarian countries toward freer horizons, not on threats and force of any kind. But just as we permit the waves of totalitarian propaganda to wash over our country, so we must beam the message of freedom, and expressions of our solidarity and support for the Solzhenitsyns and Sakharovs, and the nameless hundreds of other dissenters in Iron Curtain countries. The Soviet regime, its leaders and its controlled press, have never scrupled to discuss American internal affairs even when by their denunciatory exaggerations they have contributed to the gaiety of nations. We should welcome any criticism from any foreign source, however unfriendly, learn from it where it is valid, and respond to it if it is invalid in programs of public education. We should raise our voice in continued protest against repressions in any country where they occur. We should not be deterred by the hypocritical outcry that we are interfering in internal affairs that are of no concern to us. Countries that are signatories to the provisions of the Universal [Declaration of Human Rights cannot win immunity from criticism of their repressive practices by classifying them as internal affairs. To those who put freedom first, whenever and wherever individuals are deprived of their human rights, it is never a purely internal affair.
DOMESTIC SCENE
I want to conclude with a few remarks about the domestic scene and the role of Social Democrats, U.S.A. in it. We are not a political party with our own candidates. We are not alone in our specific programs for more employment, more insurance, more welfare, less discrimination, less bureaucratic inefficiency. Our spiritual task should be to relate these programs and demands to the underlying philosophy of democracy, to express and defend those larger moral ideals that should inform, programs for which we wish to develop popular support. These large ideals are not Utopian blueprints but perspectives by which to judge the direction and quality of desirable social changes. Without these ideals we cannot formulate any conception of a good society or a better society. The demand for "More!" carries us beyond the status quo but “more” is not enough. We must know what is desirable and worth having before wanting more of it. We know that jobs are worth having, and programs of full employment at decent wages, lacking which a comprehensive insurance program should provide relief, But over and above this I believe we must raise our eyes to distant horizons to grasp a vision of society not only abundant and free but in which every person feels he has a significant stake and a sense of worth and esteem regardless of the work he is doing.
It is not unduly optimistic to look forward to a period in which the malaise and evils of poverty, defined as acute deprivation, will be finally overcome. But I am not so optimistic as to assume that this will automatically eliminate what may be paradoxically called "the evils of affluence"-whose effects are observable currently among some of the most alienated sections of youth in our own and other democratic countries. Those who are depraved by drugs or consumed by an insatiable and self-defeating craving for excitement and sensation or caught up in criminal violence for ostensibly high ideals are not children of poverty suffering from acute physical want. What they suffer from most is lack of meaning in their lives, a vague discontent with normal life punctuated by outbursts of rage between listlessness and boredom.
The problem is vast and involves further study and research. But I believe that three fruitful suggestions deserve mention and require concrete implementation. One is to reawaken a sense of the importance of citizen participation in local government and its multiple activities. This kind of participation is an effective antidote to the impression of anonymity and helplessness in a complex world, and a perennial source for the feeling that one counts for something. This participation in local government must not be equated with a mindless drive towards decentralization. The universal enforcement of civil rights requires a strong central government just as a good national transportation system depends upon efficient coordination. But local government in a complex populous society can help to make the sense of citizenship continuous and vital. Another is to develop American variants on the practice of West Germany's codetermination in industry that can counteract to some extent the deadening effect of assembly lines and routinized mechanizations. We cannot, of course, transplant the German practice. The representatives of the consumer, too, must have a voice and a role.
CREATIVE FULLFILLMENT
Finally, more important and most difficult is the development of the sense of vocation or calling. Through the appropriate educational nurture, the community must provide the opportunities that give individuals a chance aside from the felicities of family life, to acquire an abiding sense of significance and meaning in life. I know of no more effective way of developing a center of interest around which human experience can be organized than by finding a career that makes a call upon the creative capacities of the individual.
Look around you and ask: who are the most integrated persons you know, who seem to have found themselves and, however one defines it, have achieved a satisfactory and happy life? I am confident that they will be persons who are characterized by one or both of two features: (1) they are able to love or be loved in their personal relationships, and (2) they have found a continuing self-fulfillment in their life's work. The first is largely a matter of luck. The second is the responsibility of social and educational institutions broadly conceived. For most people today, even when they are not in want, "earning one's living" and "living one's life" are quite different and opposed experiences. Our task as social democrats--a task not only educational but social and political-is to move society in a direction in which for progressively larger numbers of human beings, "earning one's living” will be at the same time a satisfactory part of "living one's life.” We are not Utopians and are aware that some tasks may be too boring or degrading to attract those seeking a meaningful career. Mechanization, part time work, rotating assignments, high compensation may help in getting this work done. Just as some individuals are willing to engage in very hazardous occupations to have time for leisure and amateur pursuits so others may undertake the less attractive tasks that must inescapably be performed. There will of course always be problems. But sufficient unto this day are the problems thereof.
We are few in number and limited in influence. So was the Fabian Society of Great Britain. But in time it reeducated a great political party and much of the nation. We must try to do the same.