Histories of American economic policymaking after World War II often describe a “Fiscal Revolution,” in which Keynesian macroeconomic tools replaced the microeconomic regulations and reforms of the New Deal. This article challenges that narrative by demonstrating how the Keynesian economists responsible for the Fiscal Revolution relied upon incomes policies to ensure that inflation would not sabotage efforts to achieve full employment. In the 1960s, the White House Council of Economic Advisers pressed the Kennedy and Johnson administrations to enforce “wage-price guideposts” in order to realize the potential of the Fiscal Revolution. Yet incomes policies also encouraged policymakers to deflect responsibility for inflation onto the private sector’s behavior as an alternative to adopting the painful but necessary fiscal and monetary restraint. As a reliance on the microeconomic control of inflation persisted into the late 1970s, this approach ultimately undercut the Keynesians’ macroeconomic promises and prolonged the misery of stagflation.

Rogers Smith's American Political Science Review article, “Beyond Tocqueville, Myrdal, and Hartz: The Multiple Traditions of America,” poses challenging substantive and methodological questions for the study of American political development. Whether or not it intended to do so, the article has struck a chord in several programs of research. The following colloquy between Smith and me centers on Smith's reading of political culture in terms of “traditions.” In a spirit of advancing our common enterprise, I have sharpened rather than muted the differences between Smith's views and my own in order to bring them into relief in a short space.

The first major piece of national transit legislation was enacted in 1964. By 1969 the Urban Mass Transportation Administration was the subject of a highly critical analysis by staff investigators for a Congressional Appropriations Committee, and in the early 1970s industry analysts sharply critiqued the rationality of urban transit policy in general. In 1981 the Comptroller General of the U.S. reported to Congress that the demand for transit subsidies was approaching crisis proportions. The U.S. government has come to play a greater role in the transit industry than do most European counterparts, provides more passenger subsidy per ride than any other country, and, though transit is everywhere subsidized, the U.S. federal government subsidizes a greater share of industry costs than most other national governments. This article examines the circumstances under which this particular industry-government relationship developed. As part of this industrial policy discussion, the article also looks at the culture of discourse that was present during the early intervention period and that has been characteristic of the transit policy community since that time.

Discussions of New Deal policymaking suggest that many reforms were enacted from 1933 to 1937, but after this the New Deal ended. Although this analysis provides a generally accurate portrayal of presidential-congressional power relations, it overlooks the ability of some federal agencies to advance policies opposed by political and economic elites, and assumes that the plight of government agencies is always closely tied to the fortunes of elected leaders. The history of the Securities and Exchange Commission provides a somewhat different story. The SEC continued to pursue policies opposed by the securities industry despite increased political opposition in the late New Deal. This was due largely to the liberal-reformist ideology held by a large number of SEC commissioners and staff. They believed the agency should adopt a more mandate-driven approach and issue greater numbers of regulations than the SEC had in the early New Deal. As a result of the commissioners he appointed, President Franklin Roosevelt was largely responsible for this change in SEC policymaking.

The “Railroad Commission of Texas” conjures up visions of oil and gas and power politics and perhaps the question, What does “railroad” have to do with petroleum? The Railroad Commission (RCT) also brings to mind modern America between 1930 and the 1970s, when the Texas agency controlled from 35 to 45 percent of the oil and gas produced in the United States. These images come from cultural myths of the Lone Star State, from Americans' fascination with conspiracies, and, most telling, from the lack of historical analyses of the commission, its staff, and its regulatory strategies. The prevailing views of the commission are unfortunate ones, for they not only neglect the agency's regulation of railroads, natural-gas utilities, and buses and trucks but also skew the understanding of how the state commission came to regulate petroleum in the first place, how it devised policies for doing so, and how it legitimized itself and defended that legitimacy under the weight of the East Texas crisis between 1930 and 1935.

On 9 April 1992, the British Labour party lost its fourth successive general election. The outcome, coming after prolonged economic difficulties, led many commentators to call into question altogether the viability of the reformist project in the United Kingdom. For Labour's leaders, the result was bitterly disappointing. To lose any general election is, of course, evidence of failure. But, given the extent of the radical transformation the party appeared to have undergone in the late 1980s and early 1990s, to lose in the propitious circumstances of 1992 was especially frustrating. Just over five years later, however, much of the period under a new leader, Tony Blair, and having undergone further dramatic adaptation, including a comprehensive rebranding as “New Labour,” the party not only took office at the general election of 1 May 1997 but won a landslide victory of 179 seats. A little over four years later it won a second landslide victory with a majority just 12 seats fewer at 167: it was an unparalleled achievement in the party's history.

Reed Smoot and Willis Hawley are two deceased members of Congress the world loves to hate. Their principal legislative achievement, the Smoot-Hawley Tariff of 1930, continues to evoke such disapproving adjectives as “infamous” and “notorious.” To most Americans, that act, which incidentally remains the fundamental tariff law of the U.S., conjures up images of rising tariff barriers, beggar-thy-neighbor nationalism, and ruinous trade wars.

The minimum wage was conceived as an attack on poverty within the work force. Americans first defined “sweated labor” as a category and a social problem, then wrote solutions into law which fundamentally changed that definition and undermined the original purpose. First, in 1912, a problem of economic exploitation of workers became a problem of women unable to protect themselves. Transformed into an issue of the rights of labor, in the Fair Labor Standards Act of 1938 (FLSA) a radically new minimum wage law left those most in need unprotected.

The Administrative Procedure Act of 1946 (APA) has been sorely neglected in the history of the relationship of the political actors to the administrative state. There is no full account of the history of the APA, yet there is an increasing need for such a history. There is a growing literature paying renewed attention to the importance of administrative procedures in the politics of the administrative state (McCubbins and Schwartz 1984; McCubbins, Noll, and Weingast 1987, 1989; Moe 1989; Hill and Brazier 1991; Farber 1992; Mashaw 1990; and Bawn 1995). With all this attention being given to the importance of administrative procedure, it is about time to examine the history of the act that established the minimum standards of administrative procedure. The act regulates the procedures for adjudication, access to, disclosure of, and publication of agency information, licensing, rule-making, investigations, tenure of administrative law judges, and judicial review of agency action. Standard accounts of the APA's legislative history such as Galloway's (1946) have conveyed the impression that the APA was a noncontroversial, consensual piece of legislation that provided much-needed reform of federal administrative procedures. The actual history of this act involved a prolonged battle among the bureaucracy, the judiciary, the presidency, the legislature, and interest groups for political advantage in the administrative state that had been created by the New Deal and World War II.

The pariah garbage barge on a two-month odyssey with 3,100 tons of unwanted trash drew throngs of sightseers and reporters Sunday as it anchored just outside New York Harbor while city officials decide its fate.

The trek of the Mobro is well known. On 22 March 1987 the fully loaded garbage barge left Islip, New York, looking for a landfill that would take its unwanted cargo. Five states—North Carolina, Louisiana, Alabama, Mississippi, and Florida—as well as three countries, Mexico, Belize, and the Bahamas, had banned the barge from unloading. Reluctantly, the captain turned the Mobro toward home, where it received an unceremonious, and dispirited, welcome.

In his 1974 testimony before the U.S. Senate Subcommittee on Antitrust and Monopoly, Bradford Snell lay partial blame for the decline of mass transit in the United States on a targeted program, spearheaded by General Motors (GM), with the goal of “substitution of buses for passenger trains, streetcars and trolley buses; monopolization of bus production; and diversion of riders to automobiles.” Snell argued that General Motors and its subsidiary company National City Lines were responsible for “the destruction of more than 100 electric surface rail systems in 45 cities including New York, Philadelphia, Baltimore, St. Louis, Oakland, Salt Lake City and Los Angeles.”

This article follows the ways through which the concept of juvenile delinquency has been created in the legal and social discourse in Israel. It compares the discourse and resulting social policies regarding juvenile delinquency mainly in two social groups: “middle-class” offenders (youth from high socioeconomic families who immigrated to Israel before 1948); and “lower class” offenders (Middle Eastern “Oriental” youth from low socioeconomic families who came mainly during the 1950s from Asia Minor and North Africa). Societal reactions to juvenile delinquency during the period studied were highly variable, depending on the ethnicity, gender, and social class of the offender.

The year 1966 is often cited as the start of the “second wave” of the organized women's movement, marked by the formation of the National Organization for Women (NOW). However, 1966 also marked the formal inception of another, less enduring group of women activists, the National Welfare Rights Organization (NWRO), linked to a separate but related social movement focused on welfare rights. From 1966 to 1975, NWRO coordinated welfare mothers' activism to shore up public assistance for the poor and to establish a federally guaranteed annual income. At its height in 1968, NWRO claimed twenty thousand members nationwide and dozens of local chapters from California to New York.

Several years ago, Regina G. Kunzel presented a provocative examination of the Florence Crittenton maternity homes between 1915 and 1945. Her goal was to trace “the history of the transformation from evangelical to professional work with unmarried mothers.” Kunzel's thesis is that in the early twentieth century the control and treatment of unmarried mothers shifted dramatically: from evangelical women “who understood their work in terms of the ‘feminine’ virtues of piety and sympathy” to social work professionals “who claimed expertise based on training in the scientific method.” Evangelical women wanted to redeem “fallen women” in need of salvation—which they regarded as “a moral problem to be solved by sisterhood.” In contrast, social workers viewed unmarried mothers as “social units” requiring scientific treatment and “adjustment.” These differing viewpoints had practical consequences when it came to treating unwed mothers. Evangelical women were committed to keeping mother and illegitimate child together—a principle Kunzel describes as “the cornerstone of womanly benevolence in maternity homes.” In contrast—and this point is at the heart of Kunzel's thesis—social workers were militant proponents of separating mother and child because they believed that the majority of unmarried mothers “were unfit and would be better off giving their babies up for adoption.”