By Christine Rosen
Wednesday,
March 20, 2024
Being
middle class in America used to mean something—something socially
transformative, something even revolutionary. The American middle class
represented a form of national social order never before seen on this
earth—cultural domination not by the very rich and very educated, or the
political domination either by tyrants or the mob, but by a mass of people,
relatively well-to-do, who felt themselves fortunate in their circumstances.
That was what made the American middle class different from the French or
English bourgeoisie. Its members believed, and the country believed, that they
were the nation’s backbone, its true governing class, and its moral compass.
Throughout
most of the 20th century, the term “middle class” signaled membership in an
optimistic and growing group, most of whom had risen within memory from
physically laborious jobs in farming or on factory floors to offices and small
businesses they ran themselves. The middle class had enjoyed long periods of
prosperity and stability, and each generation of politicians, on the left and
the right, had enthusiastically pandered to it because they were the American
majority, and it was from the American majority you could build a political
consensus and a political coalition.
What
were the core convictions of the American middle class? It valued its freedom
and autonomy, was proudly patriotic, involved itself in its local communities,
and was churchgoing without being fanatical about it. Its position at the dead
center of American life was reflected in mass culture in ways that were both
positively reinforcing and widespread. If you turned on any radio program in
the 1930s and 1940s or any network television show before the advent of the
cable era, you would likely find some benign portrait of the middle-class
American nuclear family staring back at you. Providing that kind of mirroring
comfort made cultural and financial sense in a country where approximately 61
percent of adults lived in middle-class households.
By
the early-21st century, however, the cultural and political power of the middle
class had begun to erode—subtly at first, then rapidly. In his memoir of his
time working for President Barack Obama, David Axelrod recalled chastising
Obama in 2008 for his “clinical and bloodless” discussions of the country’s
vast middle and reminded him of its importance to the Democrats’ election
prospects. “I talk about the middle class all the time,” Obama peevishly
insisted. Axelrod disagreed and advised Obama that he could not merely
“sprinkle mentions of the middle class formulaically in speeches,” as he had
been doing. He had to wage “a day-in, day-out campaign on the issue.”
It
was good advice, as numerous signs at the time of Obama’s successful bid for
the presidency were pointing to a downturn in middle-class fortunes—and all
this before the financial meltdown of September 2008 that led to a decline of
35 percent in the wealth holdings of Americans. A 2006 report from the
Brookings Institution found that “middle-income neighborhoods as a proportion
of all metropolitan neighborhoods declined from 58 percent in 1970 to 41
percent in 2000.”
Even
in the suburban neighborhoods favored by the middle class, the proportion of
middle-class families shrank to 44 percent in 2000, down from 64 percent in
1970. “Suburban middle-income neighborhoods were replaced in roughly equal
measure by low-income and very high-income neighborhoods,” the report
concluded. By 2012, a Pew survey found “fully 85 percent of self-described
middle-class adults say it is more difficult now than it was a decade ago for
middle-class people to maintain their standard of living.”
Still,
as late as 2013, Democratic political consultant James Carville and Democratic
pollster Stan Greenberg published a book titled It’s the Middle Class,
Stupid! in which they congratulated themselves and the Obama campaign
for successfully winning reelection on a message of helping the middle class.
Their celebration proved short-lived. By 2016, as Pew Research noted in a
post-election report, “the Republican Party made deep inroads into America’s
middle-class communities.” Pew noted that “although many middle-class areas
voted for Barack Obama in 2008, they overwhelmingly favored Donald Trump in
2016, a shift that was a key to his victory” over Hillary Clinton. Meanwhile,
“Democrats had more success retaining a loose ‘coalition’ of lower-income and
upper-income communities.” The middle class was not only shrinking—according to
Pew Research Center, “the share of adults who live in middle-class households
fell from 61 percent in 1971 to 50 percent in 2021”1—it was also becoming restive.
As
Max Weber said, “A class itself is not a community.” The middle class in the
U.S. has always been as much an idea as it is a definable
socioeconomic category. It has also served as an ideal, a goal to achieve for
the working class, which sees in the rung above them on the social ladder
wonderful and achievable things like home ownership, a safe neighborhood, and
retirement comfortable enough to soothe an aching back garnered from decades of
physical labor.
But
both the idea and the ideal are under significant threat today, and not only
from economic challenges such as inflation, stagnant wages, and higher housing
costs. The common understanding of the middle class as the key moderating force
in our culture and politics is also disappearing. We know this from the
evolution of American mass entertainment. Popular culture has moved away from
the values and interests of the middle as well. In Status and Culture,
the critic W. David Marx describes how, in the mid-20th century, the middle
class “enjoyed its own respectable taste world of Reader’s Digest,
bowling clubs, and Lawrence Welk.” Those middle-class tastes and choices were
mocked by the elitists of the time; the middle class was said to be living
soulless conformist existences in “little boxes made of ticky-tacky,” as the
folksinger Malvina Reynolds sang contemptuously in 1962. Efforts to shock the
middle class out of its complacency came in the form of supposedly scandalous
works like Peyton Place that presumed to show the dark truth
behind the manicured lawns of Main Street USA.
Then
came the 1960s and the elevation of transgressive behavior and mores. By now,
there is almost no middle-class culture to mock. Today, Marx writes, “the
twenty-first century economy has skewed media and consumption so decisively
toward coastal elites as to be perceived among the lower middle class as a
demeaning erasure.”
This
erasure is significant because it speaks to thorny issues of status and dignity
in a country with long-standing anxieties about class. The middle class found
it could no longer rely upon or take pleasure in its creature comforts quite so
readily, or find satisfaction in achieving a certain level of social standing.
As Paul Fussell observed in his 1983 book, Class: A Guide Through the
American Status System, “The special hazards attending the class situation
in America, where movement appears so fluid and where the prizes seem available
to anyone who’s lucky, are disappointment, and, following close on that,
envy….The myth conveys the impression that you can readily earn your way
upward, [so] disillusionment and bitterness are particularly strong when you
find yourself trapped in a class system you’ve been half persuaded isn’t
important.”
Fussell
notes that poorer Americans “tend to believe that class is defined by the
amount of money you have,” but for the middle, markers such as education and
the kind of work a person does are profound measures of self-worth as well:
“Nearer the top, people perceive that taste, values, ideas, style, and behavior
are indispensable criteria of class, regardless of money or occupation or
education.”
The
middle class had as its unstated goals to maintain a decent standard of living
for itself and to pass on a stable, good life to their children. Prosperous but
self-made, elite-adjacent but not elite themselves, it followed the rules while
nurturing a belief in the ability to improve one’s circumstances no matter
where you found yourself on the social ladder. Sometimes beset by envy of the
wealthy on the one hand, and concern about the burden of supporting the poor on
the other, the middle class nevertheless served as a stabilizing force, taming
the extremes of wealth and poverty while going about its business as
white-collar professionals, small-business owners, and mid-level managers.
In
other words, the middle class, despite its anxieties, was supposed to prevent
class warfare. Now, it looks more likely to ignite a class war.
Consider
the recent cultural and political shifts experienced by the typical
middle-class American, shifts dramatic enough to be experienced as whiplash by
many of its members. During the Covid pandemic, for example, the majority in
the middle was told to listen to elite experts and follow the dictates of the
institutions those elites controlled. Most did. But as those same elites
mandated harmful business and school closures (while conveniently ignoring such
restrictions on their own behavior by dining at the French Laundry, as Governor
Gavin Newsom did, or sending their children to private schools that remained
open), middle-class Americans watched their children’s educational and
emotional well-being suffer as the public schools they attended remained
shuttered.
The
arbiters of culture increasingly ignore the middle to focus instead on minority
groups of every stripe (the smaller and more bizarre the better), or on the
tribulations of the luxury consumer. When given attention at all, the middle is
treated as a bunch of exotic weirdos, despite still being the majority.
Cultural products consumed by the middle—their favorite comedians, music, and
television shows—often get only grudging or glancing attention from elite
media. Increasingly, television shows depict the very wealthy (Succession, The
White Lotus) or the poor or working-class (Dopesick, Maid)
more than they do the lives of people in the middle. Richard Rushfield, who
runs a Hollywood dope sheet called The Ankler, noted the following recently
about a television show you may never have heard of:
Young Sheldon ambles amiably
towards its denouement, absolutely unloved by anyone except for TV viewers. You
could drive a semi-truck through every media office in New York without hitting
an article about Sheldon’s final season. [But it] has sat in the
Top 10 of most-watched shows throughout its seven-year run…and had ratings that
approach latter-day Oscar numbers. Not only that, but it is the sequel to The Big
Bang Theory, which previously dominated the ratings boards from 2007 to
2019. And it was just announced that after Sheldon concludes,
it will be followed by another spinoff, centered on brother Georgie, making it
likely that by the time that show wraps, the Big Bang universe
will have quietly drawn audiences in the many millions for approaching 30
years.
Which is a decent run at a time when people
and networks supposedly don’t want middle-of-the-road comedies anymore and
you’d be hard-pressed to find a single one of its like across the entire
Streaming Wars spectrum. It’s kind of a problem for us to entertain the world
if we not only don’t watch what they watch, but we won’t even acknowledge their
entertainment exists.
Rather
than be catered to by the elites who seek to make their living off their tastes
and wants, the middle class is more likely to hear the elite talk about it as a
problem: Middle-class Americans are racist, they complain too much about how
expensive everything has become, and they won’t get on board either with the
left’s social-engineering schemes or the populist right’s rage-driven
apocalypticism.
They
are told that “no human is illegal” and that their concerns about an open
border are evidence of their own bigotry. They see the poor and other
designated “oppressed” receive sympathetic elite attention and government
subsidies and programs, and services aimed at helping them. The elite champion
the rights of criminals, illegal immigrants, and destructive Black Lives Matter
activists who want to dismantle the police. They tell the rest of the country
that they must call the homeless the “unhoused” and ignore any quality-of-life
effects from that population’s drug use or instability. When the middle class
complains, the elite often chide it for having fallen prey to “misinformation”
or excessive “right-wing” media consumption.
The
middle class is also frequently reminded that shoplifting is a victimless crime
even as they see prices rise and goods placed behind locked cabinets—or, in
many cases, entire stores shuttered after being scavenged for too long by
thieves who go unpunished. In January, after coordinated groups of
pro-Palestinian protesters shut down traffic to tunnels and bridges in
Manhattan, disrupting the lives of millions of New Yorkers, the New
York Post noted how many of the protesters were students at elite
colleges such as Yale and Brown, whose activities were being lavishly funded by
“the Ben & Jerry’s Foundation” as well as “a Rockefeller family
foundation.”
On
the rare occasions when such protesters are arrested, they are immediately
released and often valorized for their law-breaking, as Black Lives Matter
protesters were in the summer of 2020 by soon-to-be–Vice President Kamala
Harris. She urged the public to donate to the pro-decarceration Minnesota Bail
Fund to “help post bail for those protesting on the ground in Minnesota,” many
of whom had committed arson, property crimes, and assault; the same fund later
secured the release of a man who then murdered someone. As Matthew Crawford
observed of these young radicals, many the children of privilege, who have
become full-time protesters: “At bottom, we see a refusal of the ruling class
to take responsibility for its rule, preferring to [role-play] at the barricades.”
By
contrast, it is the middle class that sends its children off to the military to
fight wars. The middle class is overrepresented in the ranks of the enlisted
compared with upper- and lower-income groups. According to a study by the
Council on Foreign Relations, “Most members of the military come from
middle-class neighborhoods. The middle three quintiles for household income
were overrepresented among enlisted recruits, and the top and bottom quintiles
were underrepresented.” They are effectively serving a country that lately has
shown little tolerance for their way of life or their values.
Meanwhile,
they watch politicians like President Biden transfer the student loan debt of
higher-earning Americans to those in the working- and lower-middle class. A
2020 report from the Brookings Institution, using data from the Federal
Reserve’s Survey of Consumer Finance “confirm[s] that upper-income households
account for a disproportionate share of student-loan debt—and an even larger
share of monthly out-of-pocket student debt payments.”
No
wonder they feel like suckers, betrayed and frustrated because things no longer
seem to work the way they should. They are being played for suckers.
A
savvy politician would appeal to this middle—would make them feel that they
matter and are valued. Unfortunately, the incentive structure of our politics
has changed so that elected officials now cater to the extremes within their
coalition, rather than talking to the moderate middle. Our elites act like
Marxists (focusing entirely on either the upper or the lower classes) when they
should behave like Weberians—thinking about the stabilizing force of the
middle. A recent article in The New Yorker by Evan Osnos is
indicative of the trend, examining the many ways the word “elite” has become a
pejorative deployed by populist wannabes such as Tucker Carlson to tar their
perceived enemies (who are as wealthy and well educated as they are). Amid
intra-elite squabbles, the concerns of the middle class receive no attention.
Instead,
elite cultural mavens have decided to target the middle for reeducation, so
that they might be cured of their backward, racist, homophobic, and transphobic
views. Imagine being a mid-level manager at a large corporation. You are middle
class but work among the elite-educated top of the economic scale and, as
Thorstein Veblen taught, feel their disdain more acutely because of that
proximity.
You
are subjected to the indignities of diversity, equity, and inclusion training
and bureaucratic oversight, and told to be grateful for the opportunity.
Typical was the email sent out by the chief diversity officer at Johns Hopkins
University. She discussed the “Diversity Word of the Month”—“privilege”—which
she defined as “advantages and favors to members of dominant groups at the
expense of members of other groups.” Among the list of “privileged” groups she
included, were the “middle or owning classes” (as well as the usual suspects:
white people, Christians, heterosexuals, the able-bodied). More than 27,000
people have their day jobs at Johns Hopkins. Almost all are middle class. Every
one of them got this memo.
As
is true of our political class, the incentive structure of the elite has
changed. Elites increase their status by virtue-signaling and valorizing the
concerns of the supposedly oppressed, and as a result they no longer make a
pretense of respecting the values of the vast middle. It is a peculiar new form
of class warfare: The elite, claiming to represent the concerns of the poor and
oppressed, array themselves against the middle, whom they insist must embrace
elite values while they continue to refuse them elite privileges.
***
This
dynamic plays out most clearly in the realm of education—and nowhere is the
resentment of the middle class more justifiable. At the K–12 level,
middle-class parents have watched as Democrat-controlled school systems, in the
name of “equity,” have eliminated measures of academic merit such as
standardized tests and Honors classes that these parents view as crucial to
their children’s success. Now, talent and hard work matter less than the
pursuit of elite ideological projects, with predictable results for children’s
education.
As
well, the long-standing path into the upper classes via entry into elite
higher-educational institutions has now been effectively blocked for the middle
class and their children. They still try to get their children into the best
colleges possible, of course—colleges they often can’t afford. But what they
fail to realize, and what elite institutions refuse to acknowledge, is that
despite having the same grades and qualifications as middle-class children, the
children of the wealthy are now twice as likely to be accepted
at Ivy-Plus colleges as middle-class kids.
In
2017, the New York Times noted, with surprise, “Students at
elite colleges are even richer than experts realized, according to a new study
based on millions of anonymous tax filings and tuition records.” The study
confirmed that “at 38 colleges in America, including five in the Ivy
League—Dartmouth, Princeton, Yale, Penn, and Brown—more students came from the
top 1 percent of the income scale than from the entire bottom 60 percent.” Put
another way, less than one-half of 1 percent of children from the bottom fifth
of American families attends an elite college.
A
more recent study from 2023 from Opportunity Insights also found significant
overrepresentation of the wealthiest on elite campuses—and an admissions system
that casts itself as an engine of equal opportunity while heavily favoring the
richest students. The study notes, “Children from families in the top 1 percent
are twice as likely to attend an Ivy-Plus college (Ivy League, Stanford, MIT,
Duke, and Chicago) as those from middle-class families with comparable SAT/ACT
scores.”
The
advantage was great enough that the researchers concluded, despite their claims
to the contrary, “highly selective private colleges currently amplify the
persistence of privilege across generations but could diversify the
socioeconomic backgrounds of America’s leaders by changing their admissions
practices.”
And
please, please, please dismiss the arguments of the wealthy elite who benefit
from this system and who argue that allowing larger numbers of wealthier
children on campuses helps everyone by increasing the resources available to
all. While those increased resources from wealthier families might allow for a
small additional number of poor students to attend an elite institution than
was the case in the past, it is the middle class that is paying the price—by
being kept out almost altogether.
As
a 2018 American Enterprise Institute report by Jason D. Delisle and Preston
Cooper found, “Students from high-income families were a growing share of
enrollment at these institutions in the mid-2000s. Meanwhile, the share of
students at selective colleges who are from middle-income families has steadily
declined over time, particularly students from the third income quartile.”
Their conclusion? “The enrollment gains of high-income students in the
mid-2000s came at the expense of middle-income students. . . .
It is middle-income students, not low-income students, who are becoming less
represented on these campuses” (emphasis added). In other words, the middle is
disappearing from the very institutions whose gates are designed to allow
admission into the American elites, even as low-income student numbers remain
steady, and the number of wealthy students increases significantly.
This
system affects everyone because elite institutions disproportionately funnel
students into the most powerful political and cultural institutions, even as
the worldview of graduates from these schools increasingly does not reflect the
views of most Americans.
As
Opportunity Insights found, “Attending an Ivy-Plus college instead of the
average highly selective public flagship institution increases students’
chances of reaching the top 1% of the earnings distribution by 60 percent,
nearly doubles their chances of attending an elite graduate school, and triples
their chances of working at a prestigious firm.” A 2018 study in the Journal
of Expertise explored the pipeline into prestige journalism and found
a similar impact: “Only a handful of select schools feed the mastheads of the
NYT [New York Times] and the WSJ [Wall Street Journal].” Among
staff writers at the Times, for example, 52 percent attended elite
schools.
As
Rob Henderson notes in his recent memoir, Troubled,
“At Yale, more students come from families in the top 1 percent of income than
from the bottom 60 percent,” and this class chasm creates peculiar challenges.
The moral universe of the elite is different from the rest of the country, and
they view these beliefs as important markers of their status. “Today, luxury
goods are more accessible than before,” Henderson writes. “This is a problem
for the affluent, who still want to broadcast their high social position. But
they have come up with a clever solution. The affluent have decoupled social
status from goods and reattached it to beliefs.”
What
kind of beliefs? One study cited by Henderson reveals, “Upper-class individuals
cared more about status and valued it more highly than working-class
individuals. . . . Furthermore, compared with lower-status
individuals, high-status individuals were more likely to engage in behavior
aimed at protecting or enhancing their status.” Henderson coined the phrase
“luxury beliefs” to describe some of the things his classmates believed are
harmless (defunding the police, decriminalizing drugs, abandoning monogamous
marriage) because their privilege protected them from the impact of such
choices—even as the poor and middle class suffered from those same policies.
Worse, he found many students who suffered from a rather skewed moral compass:
“My classmate and I discussed various moral dilemmas,” Henderson writes of a
conversation he had at Yale. “And he said he would push a man off a bridge to
stop a train from hitting five people. I asked if he would murder his mother to
save five strangers. He promptly responded that he would. I doubted anyone I
knew outside of college would have said yes to that question.”
And
yet, the elite who control our institutions still expect the middle class to
yield to their supposed wisdom. This has unexpected political implications.
Economically,
the view from the middle reveals a landscape where at least the poor can stitch
together all kinds of benefits via government programs, and are considered
victims of systemic injustices, thus gaining attention and status in a society
that valorizes victimhood. The wealthy have the resources to weather most if
not all economic challenges. That leaves the middle class paying full price for
most things, and still trying to play by the rules, while feeling as if they
are barely getting by—all while being scolded by an elite that tells them they
should stop complaining about the price of groceries and gasoline. No wonder a
recent ABCNews/Ipsos poll found a steep decline in the number of Americans who
still have faith in the American dream of “if you work hard, you’ll get ahead.”
Sixty-nine percent said that is no longer true.
These
differences in circumstances, education, and worldview have policy implications
as well. Polling from RMG Research by Scott Rasmussen recently explored the
views of America’s cultural elite (defined as those with a postgraduate degree
who earn more than $150,000 a year and live in “high-density” areas). These
Americans are “wealthier, more highly educated, and attended the best schools,”
and they trust the government “to do the right thing.”
Their
views of American principles, however, are starkly different from those of
their middle-class fellow citizens: “Nearly six in ten say there is too much
individual freedom in America,” for example, double the rate of all Americans.
Sixty-seven percent of this group also favors “rationing of vital energy and
food sources to combat the threat of climate change,” and “somewhere between
half and two-thirds favor banning things like SUVs, gas stoves, air
conditioning, and non-essential air travel to protect the environment.” These
are the people running our elite political and cultural institutions, and yet
they have little understanding of how regular people live their lives, or what
they believe, or the things they value.
What,
then, is to be done for the middle class?
There
are practical steps that can be taken in higher education that would offer
immediate relief to the middle class and restore more socioeconomic diversity
to elite college campuses. First (and this is already happening), schools from
elementary to high school and universities everywhere must restore standardized
testing as a vetting mechanism for admission. When higher-education
institutions went test-optional and when secondary schools eliminated blind
testing, they effectively decoupled merit from admissions for the middle class.
Conveniently, they left in place admissions preferences for protected classes
of students (such as minorities) and the wealthy (who could still boast more
extracurricular activities, private-school résumés, or who could, as a last
resort, simply buy their child’s way in via donations). Tests such as the ACT
and SAT give middle-class applicants a path into competitive elite educational
institutions by demonstrating their ability to succeed. And testing for
admission to the best public high schools eliminates the ability of
administrators to self-select the student bodies they think are more racially
and culturally suitable.
Second,
with affirmative action now effectively ended by the U.S. Supreme Court, it’s
time to end legacy admission preferences as well in higher education. There
isn’t even an argument to be made that these preferences do anything other than
benefit the wealthy. As schools such as MIT, which does not grant legacy
preference, demonstrate, ending legacy preferences leads to a more
socioeconomically diverse campus.
Third,
it is time to stop giving so many admissions spots to foreign students, many of
whom, as we have seen in the wake of the events of October 7, bring to American
campuses a toxic brew of radical politics, disdain for American values such as
free speech, and anti-Semitism. A survey by Tablet found that up to 25 percent
of the students on elite campuses are not American citizens and come here
solely to study (paying full freight, and often on the dime of their
authoritarian governments). This is a violation of the civic duty of American
universities to educate Americans to the highest degree possible. Congress
could play a role here by passing legislation that would limit the number of
foreign students admitted to colleges and universities that accept federal
funding.
Culturally
and socially, the challenge is more complicated. But it is not unresolvable: If
you want to stop making the middle class feel as if their own country has
turned against them, then the arbiters of culture need to stop turning against
the middle class. For several years now, corporations and cultural institutions
have pandered to elite values—values that, as we have seen, are not shared by
most Americans and that have cost many companies the business of the majority.
Don’t make the mistake Target did, pushing “tuck-friendly” trans swimsuits and
LGBTQ-themed baby clothes to consumers who simply want well-priced goods. Given
the state of the culture, the authentically transgressive move (to say nothing
of the financially sound move) would be to sell to the vast middle, whose
members are largely uninterested in waging a culture war via their infant’s
onesies.
Politically,
to restore the respect owed the middle class, politicians might find unexpected
success by listening not to their cheap sloganeering consultants but rather by
following the evidence of their own eyes and pitching their message not to
their most extreme (and often online) partisans but to the people who want this
country governed with some common sense. From 2015 onward, Donald Trump has had
a distorting effect on the national political conversation in myriad ways, but
one that is often overlooked is how the “Resistance” that rose to challenge his
polarizing behavior then provided cover for the advancement of a more radical
progressivism on the left. The left’s embrace of extreme and unpopular views
about gender, the border, race, and fossil fuels had unexpected force in part
because they were attached to a more traditional Democratic opposition to
Trump. But this has also moved their party much further away from the views of
the average American voter. If you doubt this, listen to then–Senator Barack
Obama talk about America’s need for a secure border; by the standards of
today’s progressive left, he would be judged a right-wing nut.
Our
politicians need to sell their ideas for improving the country to the majority,
to move away from the volatile, dysfunctional way of doing politics that starts
from the fringes and moves inward. We do not need leaders who start from the
elite premise that this country has too much freedom or from the populist
premise that America has descended into an evil that only top-down populist
solutions can save us from. Rather, they should be asking how they can ensure
that people live good lives and flourish with as little elite interference as
possible—including interference by their own government.
These
are not partisan proposals. Rather, I am talking about modest steps toward a
politics and culture that might once again enjoy greater stability, prosperity,
and commonsense wisdom. Embracing middle-class politics is neither exciting nor
revolutionary, but at a time of simmering resentments and instability, it may
be just the prescription to save the country from its sometimes seemingly
incurable ailments.
1 This was, in part, an amazing American
success story, because it wasn’t that the middle class became smaller due to
becoming poorer. Much of it was the result of middle-class adults moving into
higher-income brackets and joining the ranks of the upper-middle class or even
the rich.
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