This article examines how a German firm in the Malay Peninsula—Behn, Meyer & Co.—capitalized on its knowledge management to overcome political risks during the period from 1840 until 1959. During the two world wars, all assets and properties of the Behn Meyer firm were systematically expropriated because of the introduction of the Alien Enemies (Winding Up) Act of 1914 and the subsequent imposition of a ten-year ban by the British colonial administration in the Malay Peninsula. However, Behn Meyer’s resilience and flexible outlook, as demonstrated by its management of political risks during these tumultuous periods, enabled it to rebuild its business interests and reestablish a foothold in postcolonial Malaysia and the region. This article argues that Behn Meyer displayed an exemplary business strategy, utilized its understanding of the geopolitics of the area, and leveraged its local and international networks to ensure its survival and longevity in the most tumultuous period in the history of the world.

This article discusses the business strategies formulated by Egyptian marketers as they established their enterprises to meet new multinational corporations' (MNCs') demand for marketing—research, promotion, and advertising services. This transition occurred during a period of economic liberalization, known locally as the infitah (open-door era), and rapid economic growth, resulting from the regional oil-boom of the early 1970s. Local entrepreneurship and competition for accounts would create a new, “glocal” business environment in Egypt, which concurrently mediated MNCs adaptation to local economic conditions and “Egyptianized” imported goods.

Accounting for Taste examines the history of the US Food and Drug Administration's regulation of markets through labels as a form of public–private infrastructure, built through the ceaseless work (and antagonisms) of public regulators, the food industry, and expert advisors. From public hearings on setting “standards of identity” for foods to rule making on informative labels like the Nutrition Facts panel, it links a narrow history of institutional change in food regulation to broader cultural anxieties of twentieth-century America, arguing that the recurrence to informative labels as a political solution reflects a transformation in not only scientific understandings of dietary risk but also cultural understandings about the responsibility of consumers. In describing this “informational turn” in food politics, the dissertation foregrounds the important role of intermediaries, specifically consumer and health experts, and intermediate spaces, such as labels, in the framing of political debates about the production and consumption of everyday goods.

This study evaluates the Bell System's role in the revival of Japanese telecommunications during the post-World War II occupation. Civilian and military personnel who had worked for the firm and who served in the Civil Communications Service (CCS) of the Supreme Command Allied Powers represented the primary agents for knowledge transfer to Japan's Ministry of Communications (MOC) and its supporting independent equipment manufacturers. The MOC became a channel for communicating ideas about management practices at the Bell System to the local telecommunications industry. The CCS's actions in Japan represent what Alfred D. Chandler has termed the “integrated learning base” in action in the public sector. The CCS's role in knowledge transfer has been underestimated by many scholars who have focused primarily on its contributions to promoting production and quality engineering in telecommunications manufacturing. Its central achievement was laying the managerial groundwork for the establishment in 1952 of the governmental enterprise Nippon Telegraph and Telephone.

“When Wall Street met Main Street” recovers the lost history of the American investor and locates the origins of conservative belief in the ability of laissez-faire financialmarkets to provide economic security and justice for all. Bond and stock marketing by the federal government, corporations, and the financial industry is analyzed alongside emerging investor-centered theories of political economy and the relevant debates over economic reform. As early twentieth century securities marketers and their ideological allies promoted investment, they wrestled with the meaning of citizenship and democracy under industrial corporate capitalism. The ideas and institutions examined in this study endured the Crash of 1929, shaping the parameters of New Deal securities market regulation and sustaining opposition to modern liberalism until the present day.

Much of current scholarly work argues that China and Chinese communities are distinguished by a culturally specific and unique pattern of networking based on personal relations (guanxi), but there is little agreement about whether such personal relations produce discrete factions or more disbursed, weblike connections. The literature on banking networks is similarly unclear, and most discussion has focused on regional groups, such as a clique made up of natives from Zhejiang and Jiangsu provinces, or shared professional values among bankers. None of these approaches adequately describes actual connections, and this case study provides a new and empirically broad approach that applies tools of network analysis to interlocking bank directorships in 1936. This analysis shows the existence of twenty-four isolated banks; three very small, discrete, and regionally based groups; and one huge, diffuse, and weblike bank network that included virtually all Chinese bank assets and extended to most of China’s economically developed regions.

Home heating and lighting markets have played crucial and underappreciated roles in driving energy transitions. When historians have studied the adoption of fossil fuels, they have often privileged industrial actors, markets, and technologies. My analysis of the factors that stimulated the adoption of anthracite coal and petroleum during the nineteenth century reveals that homes shaped how, when, and why Americans began to use fossil fuel energy. Moreover, a brief survey of other fossil fuel transitions shows that heating and lighting markets have been critical drivers in other times and places. Reassessing the historical patterns of energy transitions offers a revised understanding of the past for historians and suggests a new set of options for policymakers seeking to encourage the use of renewable energy in the future.

Philips Australia, the Australian subsidiary of Dutch MNE Philips Electronics, experienced difficulties during 1942–1943, when it came close to being nationalized as enemy property. In response, the company set out to improve its reputation in the local radio parts and electronics industry and in Australian markets. Its strategy of embedding itself in Australian society served the purpose of improving company performance and influencing the government policies that guided the rapid development of Australia’s postwar electronics industry. With this strategy, Philips Australia minimized the risks and maximized the commercial opportunities it faced. The firm localized senior management, maximized local procurement and local manufacturing, took a leading role in industry associations, engaged politically influential board members, and used marketing tools to build a strong brand and a positive public profile in Australia. However, the company became aware of the limitations of this strategy in 1973, when a new Labor government reduced trade protection. Increasing competition from Japanese electronics firms forced Philips Australia to restructure and downsize its production operations. Despite increasing reliance on imports from the parent company’s regional supply centers and efforts to specialize production on high-value added products, the firm saw its profitability and market share in Australia decrease.

Foreign markets largely shaped the business strategy of Les Films Albatros, a medium-sized, internationally networked specialty producer of films in interwar France. Depending more on foreign revenues than did the Hollywood studios, Albatros also realized higher gross returns. Because films were capital goods providing a perishable product (seats at a specific time), their price depended on both expected performance and the threshold ticket-selling capacity necessary to recoup cinema fixed costs; some films could not be sold at any price. Given the small potential market for its films, Albatros had to find an intricate balance between producing at low cost and delivering films with at least threshold ticket-selling capacity. It did so by differentiating its films, entering film distribution in France, coproducing internationally, and cooperating with Pathé and Gaumont, the two largest French film companies. While its larger European rivals were obsessed with operational effectiveness vis-à-vis Hollywood, Albatros, by adopting a distinct strategic position, hardly had to pay attention to operational effectiveness at all. It was making a differentiated product for needs unserved by Hollywood.

The Good Consumer offers a historical account of consumer credit reporting in the United States, from its nineteenth-century antecedents in commercial credit reporting through its professionalization and transformation into a key communication infrastructure during the first half of the twentieth century. While describing the technical and institutional development of the modern credit bureau, The Good Consumer draws special attention to one of the most consequential effects of credit reporting: the invention of financial identity. Formalized systems of credit evaluation produced their own categories of social reality and fostered new forms of economic objectification. The title refers to the “goodness” of credit consumers in several contexts: as prompt paying customers, trustworthy and morally upright citizens, profitable target markets, and collectively as a vital force behind the growth of the twentiethcentury American economy.

During the two decades before World War II, as this article demonstrates, the relationship between the Big Three American automakers and their parts suppliers was remarkably similar to the celebrated cooperation of Japanese auto assemblers and their trading partners after 1980. Unlike the arms-length multisourcing that characterized American firms after 1960, the prewar Detroit production culture featured collaborative development, cost sharing, and long-term innovative relationships. This system nurtured the rise of Chrysler, which not only grew from a standing start in 1920 to convert the General Motors-Ford duopoly into the “Big Three” by 1930, but also established itself as the industry's leader in innovation and profitability.

My dissertation is a study of standardization in four communications networks: AT&T's monopoly telephone network, the Internet, digital cellular telephone networks, and the World Wide Web. A history of these networks that highlights standardization shows how engineers in industry committees replaced managers in monopoly hierarchies as the stewards of standards for communication networks. By the end of the twentieth century, the new networks—and the new institutions devised to sustain the standardization process—formed the technological and ideological infrastructure of the Third Industrial Revolution.

This article contributes to a line of research in Business History that aims to determine the factors of family business longevity in the long term with the study of individual cases. The literature has identified family cohesion as one of the essential factors for survival. Cohesion may be reinforced or broken at the time of the intergenerational transfer. This study finds that a critical response on the part of the business family to the difficulties associated with intergenerational transfer of control, including modifications to the original plan, is usually based on trust between generations. Within the business family cohesion facilitates intergenerational transfers and, consequently, allows the family to evolve and transform itself into a business dynasty.

This article analyzes the transfer of tacit knowledge between countries and continents, based on a case from the shipbuilding industry. The South Korean shipbuilder Hyundai Heavy Industries (HHI) was established in the early 1970s and had by the late 1980s become the world’s leading shipbuilder. Aided by foreign loan capital, HHI acquired technology through foreign licenses and imported equipment. However, shipbuilding is about more than hardware. This article presents and analyzes another important means of knowledge transfer: the acquisition of tacit knowledge in the form of shipbuilding skills, including shipyard processes and operations. This transfer was mainly accomplished through the “import” of foreign managers and the dispatch abroad of South Korean employees. One important element, which we investigate in detail, was the Korean personnel that HHI sent in 1972 to the Scott Lithgow shipyards in Scotland to observe and learn. Based on archival sources and interviews, we detail the manner in which tacit knowledge could be transferred across language and cultural barriers.

This article traces the history of the first Chinese life insurance company: the China United Assurance Society. China United was founded in Shanghai in 1912 as a purely Chinese-owned enterprise and became the first Chinese life insurer to survive past its eighth year. By 1935, it boasted insurance in force of over 20 million yuan. In adapting life insurance to Republican China, China United had to contend with a number of extraordinary challenges. It had to train a corps of Chinese technical experts in a country without a single accredited actuary. It had to cultivate demand for a product that was poorly understood and often distrusted. At the same time, the Society was forced to find a way to manage a nationwide sales network that could market insurance products to a country that hitherto had little knowledge of life insurance. In doing so, it was threatened by interethnic strife sparked by racist practices of the foreign manager. Finally, China United had to overcome increasingly fierce competition, high lapse rates, and excess mortality that combined to drive underwriting profits negative. The Society was able to survive as a going concern only through its investing prowess in Chinese capital markets. Using previously unmined sources from the Shanghai Municipal Archives, this article charts China United’s turbulent process of indigenization, and explores its lasting legacies in the contemporary Chinese life insurance industry.

The commercial traveler, or traveling salesman, was an agent of commercialism and modernization as well as a stock character in British popular culture. To C. Wright Mills, salesmen faced particularly challenging demands to conform to managerial direction. This article examines how British salesmen negotiated their occupational identity during the twentieth century. Developments in marketing, corporate growth, and periods of war and recession all challenged salesmen’s status and autonomy. These influences prompted a lengthy and recurring debate about how best to present, defend, and justify their work and identity. New marketing techniques and management systems evolved steadily, rather than producing sudden or uniform changes in the ways in which salesmen worked. Their culture of enterprise and individualism persisted, in part as it was shared by employers and managers. The impact of new marketing methods proved greatest in confectionery, tobacco, and other consumer goods trades as sales of branded, packaged goods expanded. Even then, salesmen contributed to shaping their work and occupational identity, proving unable to establish professional credentials and dividing over whether adopting trade union methods could improve their position.

The geometric pattern of Amsterdam's canals was iconic of its nineteenth-century social order. The spider's web of canals fanned out along the Amstel river in concentric rings, its barge traffic linking the city to its hinterland, the province of Holland, and to the wider Netherlands of which it is the nominal capital. These canals divided the “Venice of the North” into ninety islands linked by more than a thousand bridges. Imposing aristocratic and merchant houses stretched along the innermost canal ring, the Golden Curve of the Gentleman's Canal. At the center of the web lay de Dam, the 200 m long market square built on the first medieval dike protecting the city from the encroaching sea. The three pillars of the Dutch state framed the market square: the Royal Palace of the Merchant King, the Dutch Reformed New Church, and in the nineteenth century, the Amsterdam stock market, the world's oldest exchange.