I think it's possible that the "evolution" of Steve Albini is a lot more simple and probably doesn't require a white paper to explain it. Most likely he loved a woman who wasn't going to put up with him running around saying "n!gger" and "f@ggot" and he loved her so much that he went to the extremes of adopting lunatic positions on COVID policy and "trans" among other things.
Anyway, like I said above, I have a lot of mixed feelings about Albini. He was an interesting person in the extreme. I don't think the hour of a person's death is the time to highlight that person's worst moments and I've seen plenty of people doing that on social media right along side all the praise and good memories related by others.
It's not like I knew Albini very well, but all things considered I think he was a pretty damn good guy.
My friend Bill and I went to Dreamerz on a night when Eleventh Dream Day was playing. This was during the time of the Sonars, so we were drunk as usual. We had this guy named Christopher Bell with us. (Just like the guy from Big Star!) He was a guy Bill knew from working some job or something. He was a complete fucking moron.
Bill and I hated Eleventh Dream Day. I don’t really remember why. Oh, it just came to me! Because they suck. I suppose if I had to describe them I would choose the word “precious” or perhaps just “Neil Young tribute band”. So we went to the edge of the “stage” which wasn’t really very high and the three of us stood there flipping the bird with both hands. I could see Rick Rizzo had a nervous look on his face. He knew Bill was an unpredictable sonuvabitch. There were two cinder blocks on the ground in front of the stage. Christopher picked one up and began slamming it against the ground. Bill grabbed the other one and followed suit. As Bill was drawing his back, he hit himself in the face, breaking his nose. Fucking ridiculous. He was bleeding all over. Christopher walked over to the railing going upstairs and began kicking the slats out. The owner, Dan saw him and told him to get the fuck out. As we were leaving,
Steve Albini was walking in. Bill was still carrying a plastic cup with the remnants of his drink and some ice in it. And of course, there was blood running down his face. Steve said, “Hey Bill! What happened?” Bill snarled, “Fuck you, Steve Albini!” and threw the drink at him. I drove Bill to Grant Hospital. When the admitting nurse was filling out the paperwork she asked Bill how it happened. He snapped at her, “A human fist!”

Good times.
In spite of that, several years later Steve recorded one of Bill's bands at his home studio. And as with most of the stuff Steve recorded, it sounded better than anything Bill put down before or since.
https://soundcloud.com/joe-orr-road-rod ... p-the-wild