In the late twentieth century, the European Union (EU) emerged as a global leader in setting environmental protections, including vehicle emissions standards. But member state consensus around environmental rules did not come easily, and the regional norms eventually set by the EU and its predecessor, the European Economic Community, had complex origins. This article argues that common emissions standards were ultimately achieved through a public-private process during the program to create the Single European Market in the 1980s and 1990s. For regional policymakers, standards were key to achieving an internal car market and strengthening the auto industry's global competitiveness; for many European carmakers and their transnational business associations, common norms could facilitate economies of scale and level the playing field. The “liberal environmentalism” born out of this convergence of interests produced common standards that fell pragmatically between the greenest member states and those most invested in protecting their national champion firms.

This article examines the business of American slavery from the perspective of enslaved people. It draws from narratives of enslaved fugitivity and interviews with the formerly enslaved to interrogate how they understood the business imperatives of slavery in the antebellum American South. It argues that enslaved peoples’ economic knowledge was cultivated through the violence inherent in the business of slavery, from their ideas about banking to their understanding of entrepreneurialism. Building on the current literature on capitalism and slavery, this article shows that slavery's brutality shaped enslaved peoples’ knowledge of commerce in nineteenth-century America.

Few phrases in the discourse of the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) have proven as durable and pliable as “seeking truth from facts.” The phrase was first used by Mao Zedong in the 1930s as a way to legitimate the CCP's departure from Stalinist direction, and it was later mobilized by Deng Xiaoping to signal a shift from Maoism toward new avenues of policy experimentation. In recent years, as rising tensions in the US-China relationship have produced a burgeoning literature that seeks to understand and interpret Beijing's intentions for a Western audience, the phrase has become as applicable to the study of China as it has long been to the governance of China. This is not merely because the People's Republic of China (PRC) provides an endless source of raw material for speculation and analysis, obscured behind a veil of obfuscation, censorship, and propaganda constructed by the world's largest and most powerful political party. It is also because the stakes of the debate—coming at a time when the role of the West in general, and the United States in particular, has been thrown into doubt by social division, political dysfunction, and economic decline—seem to provide grounds for doubting the motives of anyone who aspires to take a stand on such a crucial yet ambiguous question as the true nature of CCP rule. With so many facts to choose from, how are we to know which will produce the right truths, and more importantly, who is doing the choosing and why?

Scholarly and public interest in the nexus of capitalism and global governance has intensified in recent years. The persistence of economic inequality, the rise of populism, the backlash against globalization, the Covid-19 pandemic and supply chain fragility, the resurgence of open conflict in Europe, and the urgency of the climate change crisis have only drawn further attention to the relationships of markets and trade to norms and institutions. Solutions to many of these challenges, which are closely tied to capitalist dynamics, require interventions on a scale that only institutions of global governance can provide. At the same time, these challenges compromise governance institutions by making them susceptible to private influence. Moreover, critics have raised alarm about the ways some forms of global governance – such as powerful philanthropic institutions, private summitry forums, and international organizations that enforce economic globalization on nation-states – evade democratic accountability. Such developments have prompted scholars to analyze the entangled histories of capitalism and global governance and the evolution of the global economy and its regulation as well as collective efforts to provide for the well-being of humans and their environments.

Considering the 1500+ pages making up the 39 chapters of this work on Chinese economic history from ancient times to the present, this review essay suggests ways The Cambridge Economic History of China contributes new perspectives on economic history more generally and on plausible connections between the pathways of Chinese economic change that begin in the distant past and point toward the future. The essay addresses specifically Chinese elements in its economic history and identifies the ways in which nineteenth- and twentieth-century engagement with Westerners contributed to the Chinese economy’s future development but in no comprehensive manner explain how modern Chinese economic change took place. Among the highlighted features of Chinese economic history that chapters of this work make visible are the persistent presence of state efforts to manage and shape economic activity forming a distinct tradition of political economy and the long-standing awareness of many of the relationships between population, agriculture, and the natural environment.

The relationship between capitalism and slavery has been contentious because, in the Atlantic economy, enslaved people functioned as commodities, as labor, and as assets. The transition away from the Atlantic slave-trading system across the nineteenth century affected the stakeholders in these economic functions differently. Compensated emancipation in Senegal provides an opportunity for thinking about the possibilities and limitations of compensation in facilitating capital's continuity. This article traces how individuals who had invested in enslaved labor managed the transition of emancipation and reinvested their compensation claims. It explores how the process of compensation addressed the problem of commercial debt in ways that allowed for a continuity of many of Senegal's urban business elite and their family firms through the end of the nineteenth century.

When it comes to events that have marked turning points in the relationship between global governance and business history, I have focused on the role of international crises to understand the forces shaping relations between firms, states, and global governance frameworks. Such an approach stems from the fact that I am primarily an historian of international relations, and much of my research and writing is concentrated on European and global history in the period from about 1880 to 1950. For me, the origins and course of the two world wars and the Cold War have been as important as crises of capitalism, such as the Great Depression.

“Capitalism,” etymologists say, is rooted neither in Adam Smith nor in Karl Marx but in The Newcomes, a long-forgotten novel by William Makepeace Thackeray, in which a fallen French nobleman regains his dignity when the rising price of railway shares restores his “sense of capitalism” (Project Gutenberg ebook edition, p. 1016). It's one of those you-know-it-when-you-see-it kinds of words, meaningful mainly when set against “socialism,” a word first used in the 1820s to describe collective ownership of property. Capitalism has taken on all sorts of meanings since Thackeray coined the term in 1854, describing everything from the repression of miners by late-nineteenth-century robber barons to the venture-capital-fertilized blossoming of Silicon Valley. The three histories discussed in this essay all address its meaning in the modern world economy. None believes that future capitalism will be like capitalisms past.

How did Atlantic slavery stimulate British industry? This article answers that question through a study of five firms that supplied gunpowder to the slave trade. It first demonstrates that the Atlantic slavery trade certainly expanded Britain's explosives industry during the eighteenth century. British merchant capitalists established five plants in the proximity of Bristol and Liverpool to meet African demand, provincializing the gunpowder industry for the first time. The slave trade also inflated the gunpowder industry's volume, with twelve percent of all powder going to Africa before abolition. This article next reveals that supplying the slave trade was likely a lucrative pursuit for British manufacturers, with investors in the five mills earning profits that exceeded those of slaving. The boost given to the explosives industry faded considerably as abolition neared, however, and so this article concludes that Atlantic slavery's stimulus was likely of limited importance for driving the later Industrial Revolution.

In April 1959, editor-in-chief of Time magazine, Henry Luce, spoke vehemently to the World Congress of the International Chamber of Commerce, encouraging business leaders “to unite [their] energies on something which is really fundamental—fundamental to civilization and economic progress. That something is the advancement of the rule of law.” Together with lawyers, business leaders had “the responsibility to see that the rule of law prevails in every corner of the business world.” Luce insisted that international trade needs “legal certainty” and business leaders would do better by focusing less on “certain rules and regulations” and more on “basic and universal rules under which all business could prosper.” One of the proposals he asked the audience to endorse was German banker and politician Hermann Abs's Magna Carta (a formative proposal to enact what is known today as investor-state dispute settlement, or ISDS).

General Electric and Jack Welch are dead. Now they belong to the ages, which means they are the property of historians. What are we to make of them?

Journalism has been called the first draft of history, and under review here are two books by journalists: Lights Out: Pride, Delusion, and the Fall of General Electric by Thomas Gryta and Ted Mann and The Man Who Broke Capitalism: How Jack Welch Gutted the Heartland and Crushed the Soul of Corporate America—and How to Undo His Legacy by David Gelles.

It is common for historians to focus their attention on turning points in the past. The risk with this is that it overstates how dramatic change was and the extent of stasis and stability in between those turning points, at its most extreme form in notions of punctuated equilibriums. We need to remember the importance of continuities across those turning points and transitions in order to understand the roots of change and have a more nuanced picture of the nature of change. This is as valid for the relationship between firms, governments, and global governance frameworks as it is for any other historical subject.