Beruflich Dokumente
Kultur Dokumente
*Communications should be sent to Alex Dennis, School of English, Sociology, Politics, and
Contemporary History, University of Salford, Salford, M5 4WT, United Kingdom. We are
grateful to participants at the 2005 Society for the Study of Symbolic Interaction annual
meetings for their comments on an earlier draft of this paper and to the anonymous review-
ers for their criticisms.
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curiously myopic version of this but also because it fails to acknowledge symbolic
interactionism’s status as a distinct and coherent alternative to more orthodox forms
of sociological thought. At the risk of tautology, we will argue that the very concep-
tion of “social structure” is a product of, and embedded in, orthodox “structural”
sociology—the same orthodoxy to which Blumer’s work stands as a principled objec-
tion. This conception cannot be transported from one perspective to another, because
its meaning differs between the different theoretical traditions. Moreover, although
symbolic interactionism has indeed developed an approach for the analysis of pat-
terned social organization, including hierarchical differentiation and asymmetries of
power (see, for example, Hall 2003), interactionists have good reasons to regard “social
structure” as a problematic concept.
Just as Mead concluded that “metaphysical problems were unnecessary ‘riddles’
created by dualistic philosophies” (Baldwin 1986: 24), Blumer’s theoretical work aims
to overcome various problematic dualisms, among them the fruitless opposition
between realism and idealism in sociology. The concept of social structure is an exem-
plary case of the former in three ways. First, it requires a reification of social processes,
so that (as in Durkheim 1982) they become “things,” external to real people. Second,
it facilitates a portrayal of social life as static rather than processual, understood
through categories with largely stable relationships instead of through social actors
actually doing things. Third, its analytic utility depends on its being seen as the
cause of human behavior: it is necessarily deterministic in application. In short,
then, the structural conception of sociology takes society to be an external system
that is the “overall determinant of social action” (Blumer 1969: 74).
Often neglected in the secondary treatments of Blumer, however, is the fact that
Blumer was also concerned to show that an exclusive focus on the individual actor
could not form the basis of a theoretically satisfying sociological alternative: his rejec-
tions of psychological reductionism, subjectivism, and solipsism were equally forth-
right (Morrione 2004: xi). Indeed, one of Blumer’s neatest arguments is that structural
sociology is irredeemably subjective, as it inevitably requires analysts to impose their
own definitions of reality onto the social world they are investigating (Blumer 1969:
74). Blumer stresses that such a position ignores or denies the “obdurate character” of
the empirical world, which can “talk back in the sense of challenging and resisting, or
not bending to, our images or conceptions of it” (Blumer 1969: 22).
Blumer’s opposition to dualisms, then, should not be mistaken for a desire to show
that one side of a dualistic relationship (in this case, a commitment to Durkheimian
structural sociology) could be dissolved into the other (here, an individualistic or sub-
jectivist position). Rather, his aim is to develop a sociological perspective that tran-
scends the sterility of the realist—idealist or objective—subjective dualisms. In his own
words, “Mead was a pragmatist in philosophical stance, and so am I. . . . [F]or prag-
matism, reality does not exist in consciousness, nor is the reality eternally real, inde-
pendent of human experience with it” (Blumer quoted in Morrione 2004: xii). What,
then, is this reality that Blumer regards as the “obdurate character” of the social world?
Blumer’s answer cannot be clearer: “the empirical world of our discipline is the nat-
ural social world of everyday experience” (Blumer 1969: 148). As Morrione puts it,
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“Blumer located action and the creation of meaning in an ever-emergent situated present
that is cognitively, behaviorally, and intersubjectively inseparable from the past and
future” (Morrione 2004: xii, emphases in original). In these formulations, and in his
view of the social order as a situated accomplishment, Blumer echoes the Schutzian
phenomenological tradition evident in such contemporaneous works as Berger and
Luckmann’s (1966) The Social Construction of Reality and Garfinkel’s (1967) Studies
in Ethnomethodology. Unlike these approaches, however, Blumer’s focus on “the
social world of everyday experience” has clear foundations in pragmatist philosophy.
It is our intention to show that these foundations provided Blumer with the tools to
develop a coherent and distinct mode of sociological thought and inquiry that is
incompatible with such notions as social structure and variable analysis as they are
conventionally understood (Abbott 1997), and that represents a viable alternative
approach to the dominant sociological orthodoxies. We will make this demonstra-
tion with particular reference to the concept of social structure—a topic, it will be
readily recalled, that symbolic interactionism has often been regarded as “incapable” of
addressing.
The idea of a stable set of institutions being driven from one form to another by a
homogeneous set of social forces is revealed as a myth.
For Wirth, these concerns map literally onto the geography of the ghetto area.
Individuals’ social and religious commitments shape where they choose to live and
work, and their domestic and vocational situations shape their outlooks. “Social types
range themselves in constellations, each stellar figure with its little circle of satellites
seeking its place in the life of the group and changing its position and character as the
culture of the area is transformed” (Wirth 1928: 250). But just as the ghetto inhabi-
tants and their beliefs are transformed in the areas of “second settlement” (those areas
inhabited by “Americanized” Jews), elsewhere they remain static and traditional: the
daily routine of the “ghetto Jew” “is confined largely to the narrow area of his imme-
diate vicinity. Even when he drives his wagon through the other sections of the city,
he does so with his eyes closed to the life that goes on” (Wirth 1928: 251). In short,
the institution of Judaism is challenged both by internal differences and by external
pressures, and, self-consciously, members of the community locate and maintain them-
selves in particular, but gradually changing, positions as participants and creators of
this institution.
Blumer’s intellectual development is not, therefore, merely reducible to a commit-
ment to ethnographic method or a suspicion of theory—or, indeed, to a continuous
reinterpretation and analysis of Mead’s “social behaviorism.” Many of the key tropes in
his argument are just those of earlier Chicago sociologists, and, we will argue, his work
is best understood with this in mind. Central to these arguments are a pragmatic rejec-
tion of dualisms, in particular a rejection of the notion that one must either accept or
deny the existence of social structure as an a priori theoretical matter, and a commit-
ment to finding out through investigation how orderly social institutions are produced
and maintained. One of Blumer’s great contributions to sociological thought was to
demonstrate the dangers of not maintaining such a tentative position with respect to
theory: “Theoretical positions are held tenaciously, the concepts and beliefs in one’s
field are gratuitously accepted as inherently true, and the canons of scientific procedure
are sacrosanct. It is not surprising, consequently, that the images that stem from these
sources control the inquiry and shape the picture of the sphere of life under study. In
place of being tested and modified by firsthand acquaintance with the sphere of life
they become a substitute for such acquaintance” (Blumer 1969: 37).
of and into geographical areas and social circles, reinforce and change their institu-
tional affiliations, and so on. In the course of their doing this the structure of a social
world changes or remains the same—but that structure is not something that inheres
in the social world but is an artifact of the questions we ask of it. It is a part of human
activities in just these ways and no others—and to treat it as a real thing, something
that can be related to other real things, is to conflate a sociological description with
the thing being described. In this section we will suggest that this distinction is clearly
exemplified by the ways in which conventional sociologists have understood and
described social inequality and stratification. In doing so our aim is to substantiate
Blumer’s point that what is claimed to be an “‘objective’ approach holds the danger
of the observer substituting his view of the field of action for the view held by the
actor” (Blumer 1969: 74).
Sociological descriptions of societies in terms of a hierarchy of strata, or as a struc-
ture of classes, derive from an understandable wish to represent societies as wholes,
and to present the big picture of class inequalities as institutionalized features of such
societies. The problems of such approaches are well documented, from disputes
about what classes consist of (Martin 1987) to arguments over the utility of differ-
ent methodological and measuring techniques (Crompton 1993). From a pragma-
tist position, however, one would have to argue that such approaches cannot achieve
the degrees of neutrality and objectivity to which they aspire. Such approaches
inevitably fail to be literal descriptions of the social structure as they are, and have to
be selective representations that depend on the particular interests—practical and
theoretical—of researchers, and those researchers’ a priori theoretical and method-
ological commitments (Scheff 1995). Putting it bluntly, the ways in which the class
structure has been represented in most sociological studies is an artifact of those
studies’ theoretical and methodological preconceptions: “all class schemes are social
constructs, or rather, the constructs of sociologists. Therefore different class schemes,
when applied to the same occupational structure, can produce quite different ‘class
maps’” (Crompton 1993: 50).
The concept of social class is itself a source of theoretical problems. Indeed,
although most European researchers have accepted the validity of the term, the dom-
inant American approach has been to conceptualize social inequalities in terms of sta-
tus (until challenged by neo-Marxian authors such as Bowles and Gintis, 1976, and
Wright 1978). The very existence of such a divergent approach suggests that the def-
inition of social classes, and the assignment of people to them, is not a neutral or
objective process, but one in which theoretical perceptions of relevance are actively
involved. Even among those theorists who accept the validity of the concept of class,
major disputes exist concerning where boundary lines between class strata can be
drawn. In the classic Marxian formulation, a tiny bourgeoisie comes to confront a
huge proletariat, and some authors (for example Braverman 1974) continued to argue
for this view. Others, however, attempted to incorporate an expanding middle class
into their models: for Poulantzas (1975), for example, the real working class has been
reduced to about a fifth of the overall working population, whereas for Wright (1985:
45) those in the middle class occupy a contradictory class position.
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Other sociologists have developed models of class that owe more to Weber than
to Marx, regarding the formation of social classes as an empirically open question,
and seeking to identify the structural conditions under which real classes actually
come into existence—or fail to do so (see, for example, Goldthorpe 1980). In
retaining the Marxian priority accorded to economic relations in the class structure,
however, and in basing their analyses on the occupations of individual people, such
analysts have been accused of neglecting the other factors Weber (1948) thought
were important in social stratification—in particular ethnicity, nationality, and reli-
gion. Additionally, Garnsey (1978) argued that the conventional approach to class
analysis is “male-centered” both because it presupposes that women’s class position
depends on that of husbands or fathers, and because it assumes that women’s
domestic labor is marginal to the system of production. By excluding women, the
young, and the old, and by its inability to incorporate families, then, research in
this tradition yields a picture of social life that is hard to relate to any real, or pos-
sible, societies. Similar points could be made about the neglect of, among other
things, ethnic or national identification and their effects, or political organizations
and culture (Crompton 1993: 77). Inevitably, there have been more recent efforts
to incorporate women and ethnic groups into studies of class and social mobility,
but none has been successful—and it is hard to see how any could succeed: the idea
of producing a multidimensional model of the social structure cannot be realized.
Our point here is that class is essentially a commonsense, rather than a scientific,
concept (Schutz 1962). As such it “cannot simply be taken for granted as the basis
of sociological analysis which aspires to be scientific, for the ‘objective’ research
ends up simply reflecting the subjective preferences of the researcher” (Martin
1987: 95).
Attempts to investigate the class structure have encountered equally intractable
methodological problems. Many of these concern the validity and reliability of data
generated by sample surveys in which individual people are interviewed or sent ques-
tionnaires about their occupational experiences. By restricting what counts as class to
what happens to people at work, and by treating those people as isolated experiencers
of their structural position rather than members of social networks and other groups,
such studies tend to reinforce the gap between individual experience and the social
structure. Somehow what happens to individuals has to be reconciled with their class
positions—but how this is actually achieved in practice depends on the skillful use of
theory to bridge the gap. Because more than one theoretical reconciliation is possible,
in each case the researcher has to select among alternative accounts to provide what
can be construed as an objective account. Such attempts illustrate the pragmatist view
of knowledge as contextual—in this case, dependent on the a priori assumptions of
the analyst.
Such studies are also problematic insofar as they seek to determine the life (or at
least employment) experiences of all the members of a particular population. One
problem with such an approach is that, if the theoretical justification for the concept
of class is correct, a tiny proportion of that population will have a disproportionate
effect on the social structure as a whole. More attention, then, should be paid to
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members of powerful and wealthy elites—but these are precisely the groups that are
significantly underrepresented in such studies: indeed, in the Oxford Mobility Study
of the 1970s no data whatsoever could be collected on these sections of the popula-
tion (Martin 1984: 33).
There are also concerns about how occupational positions are, in fact, related to
social classes: theorists have been increasingly concerned by people in the routine
nonmanual class category (those doing clerical and lower administrative work). Are
they members of the new middle class, or are they becoming proletarianized? In fact,
the great majority of people in such occupations are female, and so excluded from
most studies of class. Moreover, it has been shown that, for men, the significance of
occupying such a position is variable: for those whose origins are in manual work this
may represent promotion to an office job, but to younger men it may be only a step-
ping stone on the way to a more senior managerial post (Stewart et al. 1980). The
sample survey thus cannot reveal that the significance of the same occupational posi-
tion is very different for the different people occupying it, and thus it cannot be con-
sidered to be the same thing as far as class location is concerned.
Studies of stratification, then, demonstrate that in order to bridge the gap between
theoretical claims and research practice, sociological approaches must deal with large
numbers of people, constant uncertainties, and continual change. One response to
this problem is to allow the availability of methodological techniques to determine
data collection and analysis—as in Blau and Duncan’s (1967) attempt to get the big
picture of a social system’s stratification. The result, unfortunately, is a description of
the American “occupational structure” that could not possibly describe any imagina-
ble human society, being restricted, as we have suggested, to a sample survey of men
between ages twenty and sixty-four. Others have foreclosed the debate by theoretical
fiat (Cicourel 1964). Giddens, for instance, correctly observed that a rigorous
Weberian approach, taking all the different factors that could influence patterns of
stratification into account, would lead to the identification of a “cumbersome plural-
ity of classes” (Giddens 1981: 104). He therefore asserted that there are “only a lim-
ited number of classes” (Giddens 1981: 106) in any society. Just why this is so is
unclear. There is surely a “cumbersome plurality” of chemical components in a com-
plex protein, but a biologist or pharmacologist could not use this fact to decide a
priori that they can be divided into discrete categories to simplify analysis. On the
contrary, he or she would necessarily have to deal with contingencies, uncertainties,
and the impossibility of conventional measurement until the details of the phenom-
enon under investigation could be adequately described. In some respects things are
easier in social life, as Weber (1978: 15) pointed out: “We can accomplish something
which is never obtainable in the natural sciences, namely the subjective understand-
ing of the actions . . . of individuals.” Certainly a wider scope of phenomena is readily
observable.
There are, of course, patterns of inequality—of wealth, power, prestige, and so
on—that are the outcomes of the activities of individuals and groups as they pursue
their perceived interests. It is likely that our understanding of the processes of social
stratification will be best furthered by the direct investigation of these activities in the
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real world rather than through the heavy-handed imposition of concepts such as the
“class structure.” We will return to this point subsequently.
of social processes in the here and now” (Coser 1976: 156). Indeed, there is a certain
irony in the fact that Mead has also been criticized for presenting an oversocialized
conception of human action, exaggerating the degree to which people are led to
conform to the perceived expectation of the (internalized) “generalized other”
(Katovich and Reese 1993). It is hard to reconcile this Mead with the one who has
been accused of ignoring “social structures and their constraining characteristics”
(Coser 1976: 157). In fact, Mead’s analysis is an attempt to transcend a sterile and
false subjective-objective dualism, and to propose a genuinely dialectical model of
human conduct. Thus, for instance, although institutionalized patterns of activity are
essential components of any form of social organization, institutions themselves need
not “crush or blot out individuality, or discourage any distinctive or original expres-
sions of thought or behavior. . . . On the contrary, they need to define the social, or
socially responsible, patterns of individual conduct only in a very broad sense” (Mead
1934: 262). Mead’s focus, then, is neither on coercion nor unconstrained volun-
tarism, but on how people define situations in ways they consider appropriate, and
interact with others on that basis. Athens’ (2005) recent exposition of the relation-
ships between selves, institutions, and maxims in Mead’s thought is an excellent clar-
ification of these issues.
With this in mind, it is clear why, in one specific sense, Alexander and Giesen
(1987) are right to suggest that Mead lacks a theory of institutions. For Mead, and
for the interactionists who followed him, institutions are not entities existing on a sep-
arate level from that of the individual, nor are they ontologically distinct emergent
properties of social interaction. Mead does not need a theory of institutions, as they
have no privileged place in his theoretical framework. Instead, institutions—as par-
ticular instances of all orderly patterns of social organization—are simply complexes
of human interaction, chains of self-other relations in which processes of symbolic
communication are of fundamental importance. From this perspective, we can
develop an empirical approach to what Blumer (1969: 148) called “the natural social
world of everyday experience.”
We wish to emphasize that a focus on how the intersubjective world is constituted
and sustained leads to an analytical approach in which the familiar concepts of main-
stream sociology—such as structures, systems, classes, organizations, institutions, and
so on—appear not as objective entities but rather as modes of representing the complex-
ity of human activity. From Blumer’s perspective, there is no higher level of social life
that requires theorizing by sociologists. It makes little sense to argue that Mead lacks a
theory of institutions or that interactionists ignore social structures, since their under-
standing of the social world is based on premises fundamentally different to those of
conventional structural sociology. Only if the presuppositions of orthodox sociology
are accepted a priori can interactionists be accused of being antitheoretical. Moreover,
it may be further argued that modern sociology has gradually (and reluctantly) had to
come to terms with the empirical inadequacies of the theoretical postulation of social
systems or structures, so that “the collective concepts developed by early theorists have
been reformulated in ways that recognize the processes through which people actively
constitute their social worlds” (Martin 2004: 34; see also Jenkins 2002).
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in believing that the cardinal problems of philosophy arose in the realm of human
group life and not in a separate realm of an individual thinker and his universe”
(Blumer 1981: 902). This intimate connection between pragmatism and the interac-
tionist approach to sociological study is at the heart of our argument. The manner in
which this connection manifests itself in sociological practice therefore requires expli-
cation. To achieve this we will consider three areas of sociological concern: the cre-
ation and maintenance of the social world, the negotiated nature of that world, and
the relationship between people’s values and that world’s constitution.
investigation (as in Blau and Duncan 1967) or to make a theoretical decision about
how such phenomena must operate (as in Giddens 1981). Both strategies must be
adopted as a priori matters as they do not represent analytical claims based on empir-
ical data, but rather specify what is to count as an instance and what each instance
might be an instance of.
The interactionist alternative to such positions may be exemplified by the concept
of a “negotiated order” (Strauss et al. 1964; Strauss 1978). People in complex organ-
izations operate not on the basis of their role alone, because many such people with
different and possibly contradictory roles are required to cooperate to get the work of
the organization done. Instead, they negotiate with one another to get work done,
partly on the basis of their role, but also on the basis of their personalities and per-
sonal preferences, their relationships with other staff members, their extraorganiza-
tional networks and affiliations, to whom they owe favors and who owes them favors,
and so on. Through these negotiations work gets done. It is not the case, however,
that a stable, objective structure preexists those negotiations or is produced by them.
Such a structure simply does not exist in the ways Blau and Duncan, or Giddens,
might imagine. Rules govern participants’ activities, but those rules are themselves
interpreted and negotiated as part of the ongoing work of the organization. (This
does not mean that they are capable of being interpreted however one likes—as with
any social phenomena they do have an “obdurate character.”) Finding out what rules
might apply and how activities can be shown to be conducted with proper respect to
their authority are themselves part of ongoing organizational work. The structured
and stable features of any organization are necessarily the products of the webs of
interaction undertaken by that organization’s members. In accordance with pragma-
tist ideas, then, what seem to be “things”—stable structures—are empirically investi-
gated and found to be “activities”—human interactions—that maintain and develop
the stable operations of the setting under investigation.
Values Shape How the Social World Is Constituted
In conventional structuralist sociology there is a tendency to treat activities as deter-
mined by objective and external social facts. Where norms do appear they do so not
as individuals’ personal, professional, and collective values but as the products of
social systems. Thus, classically, Durkheim’s (2006) analysis of suicide relocates indi-
viduals’ feelings of alienation and hopelessness away from their psychological makeup
and toward the normative order of the society they inhabit: these things become func-
tions of religious affiliation, domestic circumstances, economic conditions, and so on.
And, as Alexander (1988: 98–99) argues, “[f ]or Herbert Blumer, George Homans,
the early Erving Goffman, the later Garfinkel, Ralph Turner, and Aaron Cicourel, the
only way to emphasize the importance of individual, contingent action was to neu-
tralize the influence of values and prior social structure as such.”
Interactionist sociologists, however, do not reduce the nature of social norms and
human values to mere psychological phenomena—indeed, the idea that they must
either be located at the level of a “prior social structure” or inside the heads of social
interactants is entirely alien to their perspective. Rather, values are found to be
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things that emerge through, and are modified by, the interactional work of partici-
pants to a setting. Thus, in his careful analysis of the relationships between native
Canadians and Canadian Somali immigrants, Maines (2001: 158–161) shows how
each group’s attitude to the other is shaped by their culturally specific values.
Although most white Canadians orientate to other ethnic groups on the basis of
their race, Somali migrants make such in-group/out-group distinctions on the basis
of nationality. By being reduced to their racial characteristics, Somalis experience
majority Canadian understandings as denigrating and respond with hostility, thus
accelerating and worsening divisions between the two groups. The point here is not
that these distinctions are structural, but that the structural features of difference
emerge from the two groups engaging in social activities with one another: cultural
values are elaborated, strengthened, and crystallized through intergroup interac-
tions, rather than predetermining the ways in which those interactions could occur.
Just what values will be relevant in any situation is a function of the situation and
its participants—without people doing things the “normative order” can be no more
than an analytical fiction.
This focus on what Blumer called the “natural social world of everyday experience”
(Blumer 1969: 148) is, we believe, at the heart of interactionist sociology, and allows
the analyst to avoid the determinist account of human behavior inherent—and
inescapable—in structural approaches. This was certainly Blumer’s conclusion: “The
point of view of symbolic interactionism is that large-scale social organization has to
be seen, studied, and explained in terms of the process of interpretation engaged in
by the acting participants” (Blumer 1969: 58).
CONCLUSION
We have argued that, far from being deficient in its ability to deal with “macro” soci-
ological phenomena, symbolic interactionism is a coherent alternative to structural
approaches, and as a consequence the concept of structure (in any of the various ways
in which it has been employed in mainstream sociology) cannot simply be imported
into, or imposed upon, the interactionist perspective. That is, from the latter point of
view the concept of structure is itself problematic; indeed, as Blumer argued, the sup-
posedly objective concepts of “macro” sociology are themselves ultimately subjective
in that they are formulated on the basis of analysts’ assumptions and presuppositions.
We have suggested that the Chicago tradition of research—strongly influenced by
pragmatist currents of thought—has been, from the start, concerned with the ways
in which social order emerges out of the dynamics of human interaction. In contrast,
with reference to efforts to describe the class structure sociologically, we have argued
that the (widely varying) results not only betray the theoretical presuppositions of the
researchers but also are representations of no conceivable societies. So, following the
directions indicated by Mead, the symbolic interactionist tradition has focused on
institutional analysis in which—instead of presupposing that institutions are collec-
tive entities—the regular, orderly patterns of social life (including inequalities of
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wealth, power, and prestige) are viewed as the outcomes of the collaborative interac-
tions of real people in real situations.
Our conclusion, then, is consistent with Blumer’s wish to differentiate the basic
premises of symbolic interactionism from those of the sociology and psychology that
have become orthodox—premises in which “the meanings of things for the human
beings who are acting are either bypassed or swallowed up in the factors used to
account for their behavior” (Blumer 1969: 3). Thus, “sociological views of human
society are, in general, markedly at variance with the premises . . . underlying sym-
bolic interactionism” (Blumer 1969: 83). By respecting Blumer’s message and his
legacy, we believe, it is possible both to demonstrate the problems inherent in struc-
tural thinking and to rescue sociology from its continuing grip.
Alex Dennis is Lecturer in the Sociology of Deviance at the University of Salford. His
previous publications include Making Decisions about People (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2001).
Peter J. Martin is Senior Lecturer in Sociology at the University of Manchester. His pre-
vious publications include Sounds and Society (Manchester: Manchester University Press,
1995) and Music and the Sociological Gaze (Manchester: Manchester University Press,
2006). The authors are currently working on an edited collection on the problem of
structure and agency in contemporary sociology.
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