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The American City’s Long Road to Recovery

There are decades when nothing happens; and there are weeks when decades happen.
—V. I. Lenin1

Even before 2020, America’s great cities faced a tide that threatened to overwhelm them. In 2020, the tsunami rose sud­denly, inundating the cities in ways that will prove both troubling and trans­formative, but which could mark the return toward a more hu­mane, and sustainable, urbanity. The two shocks—the Covid-19 pandemic in the spring, followed by a summer punctuated by massive social un­rest—have undermined persistent fantasies of an inevitable “back to the city” migration.

Before the pandemic, cities were already experiencing a huge class divide, slackening population growth, rising crime, and dysfunctional schools. Their white-collar-dominated economies were clearly vul­nerable to technological changes, and they were presided over by a political class increasingly out of touch with reality and often hostile to middle-class concerns. Now, the urban white-collar employment and tourism economies have been devastated, while other sectors such as manufacturing, port development, and logistics had already de­parted.

The weeks, even months, of civil disorders occurring after the death of George Floyd may prove even more consequential. Cities were already facing rising crime before the Floyd incident. Last year, New York’s bodegas experienced a 222 percent increase in burglaries, while brick-and-mortar chains like Walgreens were shutting down locations in San Francisco due to “rampant burglaries.”

More middle-class families appear happy to have relocated to the suburbs, or to places even far­ther away, where houses are less expen­sive. One in five Americans, according to Pew, knows someone who has moved due to Covid.

The Pandemic Impact

The pandemic exposed what has long been an urban weakness. Since ancient Greece, crowded conditions, combined with intense poverty and connections to distant marketplaces—often the seedbeds of novel diseases—have made cities naturally more susceptible to pandemics than the countryside.2

In his brilliant history of Rome, Kyle Harper describes how the thriving but very dense cities of the precociously urbanized Empire became “victims of the urban graveyard effect.” Attracting migrants from across the empire, fetid cities served as “petri dishes” for parasites and viral infection.3 Similarly, the Black Death in the Middle Ages spread throughout Europe, but it was poor urban dwellers who suffered most, notes historian Barbara Tuchman. Cities eventually recovered, but remained constrained and many communities actually disappeared.4

The association of urban density, poverty, and disease persisted through the Renaissance to the Industrial Revolution—its pandemics were well chronicled by Engels—to the Spanish flu a century ago.5 This association has continued to hold in the case of Covid-19, despite the pandemic’s relentless spread. Indeed, even after the surge of cases in more rural areas, fatality rates in counties with the highest urban densities—particularly those which have greater overcrowding in housing, the greatest mass transit dependency, and deepest pockets of poverty—have seen the most fatalities. In the United States, at the end of 2020, counties with urban densities greater than ten thousand people per square mile constitute 3 percent of the nation’s population but have suffered 8.8 percent of deaths associated with the pandemic, 2.5 times their proportional share. By comparison, in typical suburban areas (urban densities of one thousand to five thousand per square mile), where 81 percent of the population lives, the Covid fatality rate is 60 percent lower.

This reflects what can be best described as the impact of “exposure density” brought on by crowded housing, transit, elevators, and office environments. These challenges will likely not end even with a vaccine or herd immunity. As Laurie Garrett pointed out three dec­ades ago in The Coming Plague, the growth of crowded megacities or what she calls “urban Thirdworldization”—such as we see in China’s dense and unsanitary cities—seems ideal for creating new pandemics, like SARS, MERS, and swine flu.6 The National Institutes of Health’s Anthony Fauci sees potential new viruses already incubating in China and warns that more pandemics may arise in the near future.

Meanwhile, the pandemic has accelerated the growth of class di­vides. The worst effects by far have been felt in impoverished parts of New York, Houston, Los Angeles County, Chicago’s poor South Side, and similar areas. The Bronx for example, has suffered an 80 percent worse death rate than denser yet wealthier Manhattan, while Brooklyn’s rate is 50 percent worse than Manhattan’s. But Manhattan’s death rate—lower with less transit use and largely empty offic­es—is still double the national rate.

Poor and minority communities also have endured the worst economic dislocation from the pandemic. The lockdowns, whether justified or overwrought, have pummeled low-income workers. Roughly half of all job losses in April were in low-paying fields such as restaurants, hotels, and amusement parks. Almost 40 percent of Americans making under $40,000 a year have lost their jobs, seeing the wage gains made during the first two years of the Trump administration evaporate.

In contrast, educated professionals have been able to move to the “city of bits” laid out by MIT’s William Mitchell almost a quarter century ago. Mitchell predicted that “information work traditionally done at city-center locations” could be shifted to “network-connect­ed computer equipped suburban or even rural homes.”7 In this reces­sion, a large portion of the white-collar workforce in finance, design, media, technology, and other high-end services made a sur­prisingly successful transition to remote work, reaping unanticipated productivity gains. Technologies that barely existed at the turn of the millennium are now widely deployed within banks and leading tech firms. Companies such as Facebook, Salesforce, and Twitter expect a large propor­tion of their employees to continue working remotely after the pandemic.

Perhaps more revealing: three-quarters of venture capitalists and tech firm founders, notes one recent survey, expect their ventures to be totally, or mostly, operating online. A University of Chicago study suggests telecommuters could grow to as much as one-third of the workforce, gutting what has become the economic base of great cities. Nearly half of U.S. mayors—the people paid to be optimists about the urban future—surveyed by Boston University agreed that down­town offices would become less desirable even after the pandemic. One recent report from Upwork finds that between fourteen and twenty-three million Americans are seeking to move to a less expen­sive and less crowded place.

This migration is boosting population and real estate values around the periphery. The hottest zip codes today, according to, are not in Manhattan but in places like Colorado Springs, Reynoldsburg, Ohio, and Rochester, New York. Prices may be dropping in Manhattan, the core of San Francisco, Los Angeles, and Seattle, but things are looking up in these cities’ suburbs and exurbs as well as in areas like Fayetteville, Arkansas. Some smaller cities, such as Fargo, Sioux Falls, and Huntsville are also beneficiaries of these trends.

A demographic shift is occurring as these areas are now enjoying faster growth in millennial populations than places like New York, Chicago, Los Angeles, and the Bay Area, as Wendell Cox and I noted in a report for Heartland Forward. The biggest gainers in terms of migrants in 2020 have been smaller metros like Jacksonville, Salt Lake City, Sacramento, and Kansas City; New York, the Bay Area, Seattle, Portland, and Boston took the biggest hits.

Breaking Bad

With the arrival of the vaccine and perhaps herd immunity, some of the worst aspects of the pandemic will thankfully ease. But the urban disorder witnessed this summer may prove harder to overcome. Homicides are rising rapidly in virtually all major cities, including those, like Los Angeles and New York, which previously enjoyed precipitous declines in crime.

Yet as cities have become more dangerous, major media, progressive salons, and city halls have been more likely to call for “defunding the police” than protecting the streets. Those headed to the suburbs in response have been accused by Derrick Johnson, president of the naacp, of representing a “new white flight,” but this ignores the fact that “white flight” has long since morphed into multicultural migra­tion.

Today, many “people of color” are equally or even more likely to flee dysfunctional cities. Back in the 1960s, some middle-class minori­ties may have felt compelled to stay in their city communities because of discrimination; now they are far less likely to stay. The stereotypes of the 1950s and 1960s no longer hold. In the fifty largest U.S. metro­politan areas, 44 percent of residents live in racially and ethnically diverse suburbs, ranging from 20 percent to 60 percent nonwhite.8

In fact, minorities—particularly black and immigrant business owners as well as small property owners—are the most exposed to street crime. Large corporations and nonprofits might pledge billions to fight “systemic racism,” but past experience shows that rioting and crime will over time reduce investment in poor inner-city areas.

The Los Angeles civil unrest of thirty years ago, which occurred during a severe recession arising in part from the post–Cold War decline of the aerospace industry—a truly horrendous event I wit­nessed and covered—hardly improved conditions despite repeated pledges from corporate, nonprofit, and political leaders. Instead, South Central Los Angeles, the site of two of the worst riots in American history, has suffered from widening underperformance relative to the surrounding area in terms of homeownership, income, and educational attainment.

The Rise of Urban Nihilism

Today, progressive district attorneys and city councils in New York, St. Louis, San Francisco, Seattle, Portland, Philadelphia, and more recently Los Angeles are increasingly committed to ending bail and emp­tying prisons of all but the most heinous violent criminals. Lenient law enforcement and turning a blind eye to rioting, chaos, public defecation, illicit drug use, and massive homelessness seems a poor way to get people or companies to move to a city.

Some see these conditions as socially useful because they push out the wealthy residents who have driven so much of recent urban growth. Progressives at the Guardian, In These Times, and the Atlantic see the potential exodus of wealthy residents as “a good thing,” allowing a more just and accessible city to be “reborn.” At the same time, the growing socialist movement in key urban areas seems much less concerned with supporting the private economy and has often acted to limit job-creating development, whether from Amazon or a recent “Industry City” proposal in Brooklyn. There is one glar­ing problem with expelling the rich, however: the “one per­cent” pay 43 percent of New York City income taxes.

But who needs an economy when you can march for social justice? It may feel good for Seattle radicals to wage a virtual war with Amazon, the company that has driven much of that city’s economic growth. But whatever the merits of their critiques, the results might now boost opportunities for suburbanites, as the company continues to shift much of its growth to the surrounding suburbs and other re­gions.

For sheer lunacy, it is impossible to beat San Francisco, the pri­mary breeding ground for well-financed digital start-ups. The city continually places new taxes and burdens on tech firms, rejecting even their charity. The San Francisco Board of Supervisors recently voted ten to one to officially condemn Mark Zuckerberg for donating $75 million to a hospital. As observer Michael Solana suggests, activists now blame Zuckerberg and other oligarchs for having somehow “ex­tracted” their wealth from the terroir of San Francisco, and they deserve to be “demonized, scapegoated, and punitively targeted.” Of course, some tech firms are oligarchical and often socially insensitive, but scores of other communities, in Texas or elsewhere, are happy to welcome similar wealth “extraction.”

Some urban boosters believe that the election of Joe Biden, who received overwhelming support in urban centers, will ensure lavish support for cities’ financially devastated transit systems, reeling prop­erty markets, and often bloated urban government bureaucracies. But the scale of government action—for example the universal basic income proposed by urban progressives to make up for a lack of decent jobs—would cost, by one recent estimate, some three trillion dollars annually. Such expenditures would likely offend the largely middle-class suburban voters responsible for Biden’s defeat of Trump, who would have to pay for such largesse.

Simply put, the electoral base for a lavish traditional urban agenda no longer exists. In 1950, the core cities of today’s major metropolitan areas accounted for nearly 24 percent of their population, according to demographer Wendell Cox; today the share is under 15 percent. Virtually all population growth in these cities has been suburban, principally through annexation. The pandemic seems to have further eroded this position—by how much will not be clear for a while—but it is unlikely that the new census will bear good tidings for our largest metros and particularly our core cities.

Given these realities, urban leaders, instead of casting covetous glances at Washington, need to embrace the biblical axiom, “physi­cian, heal thyself.” After all, the massive transfers of the Great Society failed to turn cities around; they actually deteriorated substantially in the ensuing decade, particularly as political support for these pro­grams inevitably dried up.

There is a model for recovery of sorts, albeit not perfect, offered by the reform urban mayors of the early 1990s—Bob Lanier in Hou­ston, Rudy Giuliani and Michael Bloomberg in New York, Richard Riordan in Los Angeles, Ed Rendell in Philadelphia—who managed to reduce crime and boost the local economy. Each won significant support not only from the business community, but among Latinos, Asians, and other immigrants. If the core cities are to be saved, a new generation of urban leaders will need to appeal not only to business but also to the aspira­tions of those who have been left behind. Of course, the challenges faced by any future reform mayor would be similar to those of their predecessors in terms of the need to improve basic education, infrastructure, and the business environment. But be­cause of the legacy of massive inequality caused by an economy bifur­cated between high-end and low-wage services, much more attention will need to be focused on keeping more middle‑skilled jobs in manu­facturing, logistics, and management in the city.

A New Urban Order

It is pretty clear that geographic hierarchies are being reshuffled. Certainly, the flight from density—in residences and in the workplace—is well underway. A recent Harris poll found that upwards of two in five American city dwellers are considering a move to less crowded places. The National Association of Realtors reports that households are “looking for larger homes, bigger yards, access to the outdoors and more separation from neighbors,” according to its surveys. Many diehard city residents, reports the New York Times, are now putting bids on suburban houses further from the city. Bostonians, notes a new report, are following a similar course.

The downtown office environment is in particularly dire shape, with some estimates of a serious financial haircut for $3.3 trillion in commercial mortgages. Loan volume for New York real estate has dropped 50 percent from last year. Particularly vulnerable will be financially dodgy, mega-dense developments like Hudson Yards. The much-ballyhooed drive for “transit-oriented development,” beloved by planners and some developers, has been made largely irrelevant by the emerging vision of “telecities”;9 dispersion is clearly winning over concentration.

More important still may be demographic shifts, particularly among millennials, minorities, and immigrants—the three key shapers of the nation’s future population. Disorders on the street level are not likely to keep young people around past their mid-thirties. Minnea­polis, Portland, Seattle, and San Francisco are among the whitest U.S. cities and are often held up as role models for urban developers. Indeed, they have done well in attracting educated and skilled work­ers. Yet few people would hold out downtown Portland, our whitest and arguably most dysfunctional big city, as a role model today.

The fastest growth among foreign-born workers, according to new research by Wendell Cox, as well as among ethnic minorities, has been in Sunbelt cities like Dallas–Fort Worth, Houston, Phoenix, Nashville, Atlanta, and Orlando, rather than in traditional “gateway” cities like New York, Los Angeles, Chicago, or San Francisco. A recent report from the Urban Reform Institute also found that “peo­ple of color” do better in these Sunbelt cities in terms of real income and housing ownership than in New York, San Francisco, Boston, and Los Angeles. Similarly, we should no longer ignore the flood of millennials moving to rapidly growing metropolitan areas, like Salt Lake City, Dallas–Fort Worth, Houston, Nashville, Raleigh, and Charlotte.

As we leave the era of “urban supremacism” promoted by the media, a new, more diverse set of options is emerging. A number of cities have experienced rapid population and employment growth, and seem to be peaking as we enter the third decade of the twenty-first century—including Nashville, Dallas, Houston, Austin, and Phoe­nix. Equally important, these areas have also outperformed the largest cities in both tech jobs and professional business services. A recent report on talent migration and regional competitiveness by EMSI designated ten large counties as 2020’s leaders, led by Maricopa County (Phoenix), with the rest of the counties concentrated in Nevada, Texas, and Florida.

One big winner is Dallas–Fort Worth, emerging as a major power in financial services. The place some call “y’all street” has attracted the headquarters of finance firms such as Charles Schwab as well real estate giant CBRE and major investments from firms including Citigroup, State Farm, Capital One, and Fidelity Investments. There’s open discussion of nasdaq decamping from greater New York to the Big D. Others have headed to Nashville or, perhaps most aggres­sively, to Florida, with even Goldman Sachs considering a move down to the Sunshine State. The news comes on the heels of several other investment firms—Elliott Management, Blackstone, and Cita­del—that have boosted their high-level presence in Florida.

Even when they grow into large metros—Dallas–Fort Worth now ranks fourth in the country—these rising cities function differently than more traditional urban centers, with the vast majority of growth taking place in dispersed developments. Firms like Schwab, Toyota, McKesson, and State Farm have established themselves not in Dallas’s beleaguered urban core but in burgeoning suburban counties like Collin and Denton. These suburbs and exurbs account for more than 95 percent of all population growth in Dallas–Fort Worth this decade and, as Southern Methodist University’s Cullum Clark points out, are also far wealthier, better educated, and increasingly attractive to the region’s burgeoning foreign-born population.

The suburban periphery is also changing. Some now even talk about “hipsturbia,” suburban towns with big city amenities and appeal to knowledge workers, perhaps establishing a new model of American urbanism. Others still suggest that downtown development is key to attracting high end jobs, but much new development, in tech and other fields, is overwhelmingly concentrated in new suburban developments like Plano or Frisco in Dallas–Fort Worth, the Domain in Austin, the Woodlands in Houston, Irvine south of Los Angeles, or Highlands Ranch in the outer suburbs of Denver. These lower density areas also generate, as Richard Florida has noted, an overwhelming share of new patents.

Increasingly, these communities have become the successors of Ebenezer Howard’s “garden cities,” places of work and residence located closer to the natural world. This reflects an already established pattern where the large majority of metropolitan area residents have lived and worked outside the urban cores, often with little reason to go downtown regularly. This pattern seems likely to be further accel­erated by the 2020 crises.

How to Recover Urbanism’s Promise

So where does this leave the traditional big city, or even the core of some of the larger Sunbelt towns? To insist that their critics believe cities will disappear is a classic reductio ad absurdum. Cities have withstood worse and ultimately rebounded, but only after significant change and reform.

Places like Manhattan will not become a concrete prairie, but they are also unlikely to return as world-beaters like the urban lobby and their media claque have claimed. Of course, there will be an inevitable narrative focusing on “signs of New York’s 2021 comeback,” as cele­brated recently in the New York Post. This may be psychologically pleasing, but in my opinion the cases cited—the arrival of two new restaurants and a bid to revive the now defunct Village Voice (which I once wrote for)—do not suggest the basis of a real urban recovery.

Cities will recover from the pandemic, but not quickly. Optimists citing the medieval urban recoveries that occurred after the plague often miss the centuries of stagnation that followed. Paris had two hundred thousand residents in 1300; it took two centuries for the city, which lost a third of its population, to recover to that level. Similarly, the suggestion that the pandemic will have as fleeting an effect as 9/11 had ignores the com­munications revolution of the past twenty years and, perhaps most important, the rise of “socialist” politics in several major cities.

Good propaganda and media attention cannot make up for dis­appearing jobs or leaders who deny that high taxes, oppressive regula­tion, looting, fires, and crime are the foundations of the current urban crisis. As long as these realities are not confronted, we could see something distressingly akin to what happened after the rapid rise of street crime in the 1960s and ’70s. Cities like New York may remain irresistibly compelling for the young and some of those at the top of the economic pyramid—financial engineers, software whizzes, trust fund gentry, real estate moguls—but most businesses as well as mid­dle and aspirational working-class families will gravitate else­where.

The urban future depends on finding ways to appeal to individual aspirations and desires, including those of more affluent and entrepreneurial elements. It is one thing to criticize the business class when they have little alternative except to stay around, but we are in the midst of what author Joel Garreau describes as the “Santa-Feing of the world,” where the wealthy can spend most of their time in bucolic settings. This can be in the Hamptons, where full-time resi­dency appears to be on the rise, or in low-tax havens like Austin and Miami, which are now attracting more of the capitalist elite. Placing ever higher taxes on the affluent in New York, or allowing the homeless to dominate in San Francisco, is one way to make the big earner (and taxpayer) a potential Floridian, Tennessean, Arizonian, or Texan.

Taxes, of course, are not everything, but higher rates are more sustainable when they produce goods like decent schools, clean parks, functioning highways, and, most importantly, safe streets. To pay high taxes and get none of these things, as is the case in many cities, is simply not a good bargain for taxpayers. On the other hand, businesses and middle-class households will pay for city improvements even in places like Houston (for flood control, for example) if they feel that there is a decent return to the public and the economy.

Creating a Different, More Sustainable Future

To survive after the pandemic, great cities need to become healthier, less centralized, and less dependent on mass transit. Urban areas must find ways to facilitate walking, biking, and driving, ultimately in sterile autonomous vehicles. Cities will have to become more dis­persed, cleaner, better ventilated, and less transit dependent.

Cities have made similar changes in the past. After repeated epi­demics, most notably the Spanish flu—which hit in particularly dense cities, as well as crowded places like trenches and mines—urban visionaries looked to make their cities both healthier and less dense. This de-densification occurred not only in the United States but in the classic cities of Europe, including London and Paris.

Manhattan, for example, was home to 2.3 million people in 1910. The Lower East Side was among the most crowded places on earth, particularly susceptible to all sorts of pandemics. Yet over the next fifty years, Manhattan’s population dropped to 1.5 million, as the population headed to the outer boroughs and the surrounding sub­urbs.

This is not an entirely unpleasant prospect for the remaining urbanites. With the likely reduction of what one writer describes as “insane crowds” of tourists, city dwellers can rediscover the pleasures of urban life. Dense urban areas can still thrive, as H. G. Wells pre­dicted well over a century ago, as “places of concourse and rendezvous.” The large city, he projected, would house only a small percent­age of the overall population. Dom­inated by the affluent and child­less, it would, he waggishly said, constitute a place of “luxurious extinction.”10

The promise of a new urban future lies before us, one that recalls the pattern of dispersed, self-governing, and vital cities that Tocqueville praised in the 1830s, and which existed in America till the middle of the last century.11 It will feature a progression of different urban types: elegant, walkable core cities, vibrant neighborhoods, multi-polar new boomtowns, thriving suburbs, and resurgent small urban centers. Some may not thrive in the new conditions, but many will, potentially spreading the best blessings of urbanism across an ever-growing expanse of our enormous country.

The next urban renaissance will, by necessity, feature different aspects than the ones experienced in the past few decades. A new era of individual empowerment, brought on by technology, places greater emphasis on quality of place, since people and companies have an expanded geography to choose from. Rather than focus on grandiosity or a sense of inevitability, cities need to heed to Aristotle’s admoni­tion to offer their residents the promise of “living well” in whatever urban form they choose.

The basis for this future in core cities will depend on what happens to the young people who remain in the city, perhaps further attracted by lower rents. With knowledge workers, craftspeople, and service providers already located in places like Flatbush or Forest Hills, there’s an opportunity to foster the growth of local amenities, entre­preneurial ventures—much of it what one writer calls “free agent entrepreneurship”—and artistic production.

But if cities are going to resurge, notes Toronto Globe and Mail columnist John Ibbitson, they will also need to make themselves safer and more attractive to outsiders. Rather than try to force suburbanites to change their lifestyles, he suggests urban dwellers need to focus on “what they are going to do with all those empty office towers and shuttered malls,” and how they might lure suburbanites to “come downtown” for a movie, a restaurant, or an event.

Throughout history, cities have found ways to cope with problems like crime, fire, sanitation, and lack of water. Such conditions moti­vated Rome’s great innovations like its cloaca, or sewer system, and its massive systems to bring water from the mountains to the thirsty metropolis. Repeated exposure to other infectious diseases, including the Spanish flu, led to the great urban sanitation reforms—sometimes described as “sewer socialism”—that started in the late nineteenth and carried on through the mid-twentieth century. The development of professional police forces during this time, whatever their abuses, helped quell the disorder that threatened cities like New York, London, and Paris.

Today’s threats, natural and manmade, impel us to find ways to create a more humane and safer urban environment throughout the metropolitan regions. Rather than seeking to impose a centralizing vision on everyone, we need to adopt more flexible and economically sustainable approaches that accommodate people’s aspirations and that allow for the creation of thriving communities from the core city to the far periphery and everywhere in between.

This article originally appeared in American Affairs Volume V, Number 1 (Spring 2021): 69–81.

1 Quoted in Victor Sebestyen, Lenin: The Man, the Dictator, and the Master of Terror (New York: Vintage, 2017), 7.

2 William McNeil, Plagues and Peoples (Garden City, N.Y.: Anchor Press, 1976), 168, 275–76.

3 Kyle Harper, The Fate of Rome: Climate, Disease and The End of an Empire (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2017), 10, 67, 73, 80, 207.

4 arbara Tuchman, A Distant Mirror: The Calamitous 14th Century (New York: Random House, 1978), 98–99, 119, 487.

5 William H. McNeil, Plagues and Peoples (Garden City, N.Y.: Anchor Press, 1976), 168; John Barry, The Great Influenza (New York: Penguin, 2004), 276, 359, 373; Fredrich Engels, The Condition of the Working Class in England in 1844, trans. Florence Kelly (New York: N.p., 1887).

6 Laurie Garrett, The Coming Plague: Newly Emerging Diseases in a World Out of Balance (New York: Penguin, 1994), 509, 620.

7 William Mitchell, City of Bits: Space, Place, and the Infobahn (Cambridge, Mass.: MIT Press, 1997), 96.

8 Myron Orfield and Thomas Luce, “America’s Racially Diverse Suburbs: Opportunities and Challenges,” Institute on Metropolitan Opportunity University of Minnesota Law School, July 20, 2012.

9 Joseph N. Pelton, “The Rise of Telecities: Decentralizing the Global Society,” The Futurist (January/February 2004).

10 H. G. Wells, Anticipations of the Reaction of Mechanical and Scientific Progress upon Human Life and Thought, (Mineola, N.Y.: Dover, 1999), 20–37, 75–76.

11 Alexis de Tocqueville, Democracy in America, vol. 1, trans. Henry Reeve (New York: Knopf, 1993), 59–62.

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