Historians have treated the counterculture largely as a white phenomenon and drawn sharp boundaries between its escapism and the political engagement of the Black freedom struggle. A look at the counterculture's origins and growth in the late 1950s and the 1960s reveals that the counterculture intersected with Black culture in many ways. White beats, hipsters, and hippies generally admired the civil rights movement's support for equality and nonviolence, but sometimes scoffed at its effort to gain integration into American society. Hippies considered themselves outsiders from society and imagined that they shared affinity with Black Americans. Blacks’ responses to the counterculture ranged from contempt to curiosity to embrace. Some Blacks despised the hippies’ lifestyle and political apathy, but others considered the counterculture an important challenge to “the System.” American culture, style, literature, and music were all affected by the counterculture's experimentalism. The counterculture changed white culture, Black culture, and American culture. Drawing boundaries between cultural forms proves less instructive than focussing on the connections between them.

Recent research on the far right has remained surprisingly silent on the question of capitalism. This article takes another approach. It suggests that we must understand the far right emerging out of the economic: out of the dynamics of capitalism itself. It does so through an intellectual portrait of the financial journalist Peter Brimelow, one of the most influential proponents of far-right nativist politics and a self-described “godfather of the Alt Right.” It follows his passage from financial journalist to anti-immigrant firebrand through his encounters with neoliberal luminaries Peter Bauer, Julian Simon, and Milton Friedman. Rather than for an ethnostate, I argue Brimelow is best seen as making the case for an “ethno-economy,” with immigration determined by a racialized hierarchy of human capital.

This article traces a speculative and critical engagement with histories of health care disparity and medical exploitation shared across fictions by Ralph Ellison and Toni Morrison, and the artwork of Ellen Gallagher. It argues that insistent returns to racialized experimentation and scientific modes of looking form a significant interrogation of a wider set of US promises and attritions. Specifically, it asks how postwar African American culture takes up scopic questions to address dominant accounts of progress and the modern, both via reference to visual orders and technologies, and via formal choices regarding iteration, perspective and scale.

From the early 1960s to the early 1990s, a range of concerns about “brainwashing” in youth reeducation programs obfuscated professional and political discourse, influencing key outcomes that shaped the development of the troubled-teen industry in the United States. The most significant historical developments related to this controversy involved three different youth programs. In response to accusations of “brainwashing,” program executives created elaborate counterarguments and public-relations campaigns. Instead of working to address inherent risks associated with therapeutic reeducation, the brainwashing label obscured the potential for harm and enabled an unethical teen program industry.

From the beginning of King Leopold II's endeavours to secure the Congo Free State (CFS) as his personal domain, through to the legitimization of his rule at the Berlin Conference in 1884–85, the United States has played an important role in the tragic history of the CFS. This article seeks to explore the complex relationship between humanitarianism and race in the story of the American connection with the CFS and subsequent Congo reform movement. It will unpack the role of key individuals involved and their relationship with American humanitarians in the reform movement, arguing that while pursuing reform in the CFS, American humanitarians established close relationships and collaborated with notable racists who shared their beliefs on race and colonialism. By examining these alliances, it becomes evident that their efforts for reform were entangled with individuals who contradicted the supposed humanitarian goals. This article will also examine the reception of this activism in the African American press, showing that the response to the reform campaign was ambivalent at best, with questions raised as to why key African American activists involved in the movement focussed their efforts abroad in the era of Jim Crow in the US.