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10 provision. There would certainly be precedent for that. See, e. g., United States v. Castleman, 572 U. S. 157, 162–168 (2014) (explaining why the phrase “physical force” took on a common-law meaning, rather than its ACCA meaning under Johnson, in the context of a statute defining a “ ‘misdemeanor crime of domestic violence’ ”). Johnson, in fact, expressly reserved the question whether “physical force” might mean something different in the context of a different statutory definition. See 559 U. S., at 143–144.

What Johnson did not do, however, was suggest that “physical force” in a single clause–the elements clause–that Johnson addressed might mean two different things for two different crimes. See id., at 143 (“We have interpreted the phrase ‘physical force’ only in the context of a statutory definition of ‘violent felony’ ”); see also id., at 138–142. Johnson had good reason not to say so: because that is not how we have said that statutory interpretation works. See, e. g., Clark v. Martinez, 543 U. S. 371, 378 (2005) (observing that a single statutory word or phrase “cannot… be interpreted to do” two different things “at the same time”); Ratzlaf v. United States, 510 U. S. 135, 143 (1994) (similar).

Starting today, however, the phrase “physical force” in §924(e)(2)(B)(i) will apparently lead a Janus-faced existence. When it comes to battery, that phrase will look toward ordinary meaning; when it comes to robbery, that same piece of statutory text will look toward the common law. To the extent that is a tenable construction, the majority has announced a brave new world of textual interpretation. To the extent that a phrase so divided cannot stand, meanwhile, one could be forgiven for thinking that the majority, though it claims to praise Johnson, comes instead to bury it.