distant from the others; the “secondary Alexandrian” is more closely affiliated to the “Western” than the “primary Alexandrian” cluster; Codex Sinaiticus (01) and the Armenian (arm) fall into the “secondary Alexandrian” cluster; the Sahidic and Bohairic versions of the Coptic occupy different clusters; and the cluster comprised of D and it-d, which are the Greek and Latin sides of Codex Claromontanus, stands apart from the “Western” cluster. Some of these surprises may be attributable to sampling error; a larger sample would have to be analysed in order to confirm them.
 An association between the three minuscules of the fifth cluster (i.e. 6, 1739, 1881) has already been noticed by Waltz. Surprisingly, the dendrogram indicates that this cluster is more closely related to the fourth, which contains “Byzantine” witnesses such as K and L, than to the first, second, or third, which might be described as “Alexandrian” or “Western.” It is also surprising to see that the Peshitta Syriac is located here.
 Other numbers of clusters are produced by cutting the dendrogram at different heights. If, say, the division was made at a height of 0.6 then there would be only four: the second and third clusters of the six-way partition would be combined into a larger entity, as would the fourth and fifth. Chopping the dendrogram at a height 0.45 produces nine clusters: the second of the six-way partition splitting into two and the fourth splitting into three. Hopefully, these examples are enough to demonstrate the arbitrary nature of any choice concerning the number of clusters.
 Overall, the dendrogram paints a picture of diffuse clusters which have points of contact with the conventional text-types yet differ in significant ways. The usefulness of dividing the tradition into “Alexandrian,” “Byzantine,” “Western,” and, perhaps, “Caesarean” text-types has long been questioned. In 1965, Kurt Aland, then director of the INTF, wrote:
It is impossible to fit the papyri, from the time prior to the fourth century, into these text-types, to say nothing of trying to fit them into other types, as frequently happens. The simple fact that all these papyri, with their various distinctive characteristics, did exist side by side, in the same ecclesiastical province, that is, Egypt, where they were found, is the best argument against the existence of any text-types, including the Alexandrian and the Antiochian. We still live in the world of Westcott and Hort with our conception of different recensions and text-types, although this conception has lost its raison d'être, or, it needs at least to be newly and convincingly demonstrated.
 In 2006, Holger Strutwolf, current director of the INTF, “advanced the view that it is time to abandon the concept of text-types altogether.”
 The map and dendrogram presented here imply that textual clusters are real, although they differ from the three or four clearly defined text-types employed by earlier generations to describe the New Testament textual tradition. Rather than abandon the concept of text-types altogether, we should align our understanding with the reality, which is that New Testament textual clusters are hard to delineate but nevertheless exist. Epp provides a suitable analogy for their nebulous nature:
A text-type is not a closely concentrated entity with rigid boundaries, but is more like a galaxy — with a compact nucleus and additional but less closely related members which range out from the nucleus toward the perimeter. An obvious problem is how to determine when the outer limits of those more remote, accompanying members have been reached for one text-type and where the next begins.
 Being the result of an objective analytical procedure, a dendrogram generated by divisive clustering should be a better approximation of the textual reality than the conventional system of text-types. However, using a partitioned dendrogram presents the immediate challenge of what to name each cluster. One possibility is to apply a label to each, perhaps based on a supposed geographic association or leading members of t