Beginning in the 1970s, historians and social scientists published a great deal on the birth-control movement in the United States, a subject that had been neglected. They were seeking perspective on the issues raised by profound changes in society that rendered problematic the gender system and family values of previous generations. It is no fluke that these scholars began to write the history of the effort to promote the separation of sex from procreation during the same decade that Congress removed contraception from the practices and information prohibited by the national obscenity laws (1971), and the Supreme Court ruled that married couples had a constitutionally protected right to practice contraception (1965), that the unmarried had a similar right of “privacy” (1972), and that pregnant women had the right to induced abortions performed by physicians during the first trimester of their pregnancies (1973). The Court's affirmation of a limited right to “abortion on demand” in Roe v. Wade followed a decade of intense political struggle and judicial action at the state level, and Justice Harry A. Blackmun, who wrote the majority opinion, was self-consciously attempting to forge a consensus in areas of human behavior and public policy where conflicts were literally lethal and threatened the social order. In turn, much of the vitality of the scholarship on reproductive history that coincides with changes in the law sprang from the self-consciousness of women.

Public opinion data gathered from the latest surveys on Germany's upcoming parliamentary elections have turned out to be disheartening for the Social Democratic Party (SPD). Without exception, the Social Democrats take second place and lag behind the Christian Democrats (CDU/CSU) by several percentage points (Fig. 1). Today, only a few months before the next parliamentary election, a repetition of the electoral victory to the extent of 1998 seems to be rather unlikely. We are therefore faced with the perplexing question of how the SPD could arrive at such a disadvantageous position given the historic electoral success of 1998, when the party achieved its second-best result at parliamentary elections since Word War II. Is the SPD powerless against a strong tendency of the German electorate to cast its ballot in favor of the CDU/CSU, which has pervaded almost the entire history of the Federal Republic of Germany and has been described as “a permanent discrimination of the SPD against the CDU/CSU in the competition of parties.” Or is this situation just a snapshot without deeper consequences for the party?

In the late 1980s, congressional investigations revealed patterns of influence peddling, lack of oversight, and poorly targeted expenditures at the U.S. Department of Housing and Urban Development, criticizing both the content and administration of various federal housing initiatives. Some commentators have concluded that the dogged preference for a private-sector strategy and the privatization of public activities in the Reagan administration—goals pursued while the agency suffered dramatic budget cuts—are at the root of recent HUD embarrassment.

Since the onset of the Cold War, and particularly after both superpowers began to amass large arsenals of nuclear weapons, military planners in the East and West have encouraged efforts to develop defenses against nuclear attacks. Both sides have made effective use of “passive” defenses, such as the hardening and dispersal of weapons systems likely to be the prime targets of a preemptive strike and the provision of shelters for command authorities and vital communications centers. Both sides have also tried, but with far less success, to develop “active” defenses, but against the varied and daunting challenge of modern strategic systems, all such efforts so far have been largely in vain, even though they have been undertaken at considerable expense and with great technical sophistication. The main reason is that every advance in active defense has been offset by compensatory improvements in offensive forces.

The 1970s had at least as powerful an impact on the course of American public policy as the decade that preceded it. Polls showed that confidence in large institutions—including government—was wearing down under the burden of crisis, complexity, scandal, and doubt. Inflation, economic stagnation, and severe oil shortages directly disrupted individual lives. Faith in the future of the nation, its economy, its institutions, and its government eroded.

On the eve of America's entry into World War II, Senator Joseph O'Mahoney (D-Wyo.) warned that “if we let little business go down in a total effort to defend democracy we shall let the very foundation of democracy perish. The total effort will result in total government.” O'Mahoney was concerned that the growing concentration of defense contracts with large corporations would tie big business to big government and thereby leave small business out of the military buildup. This fear that big business might squeeze small manufacturers out of the war effort fueled demands for government assistance. With the antitrust laws suspended for the duration of the war, congressional small-business advocates took positive action, using crisis rhetoric and the ideological appeal of small business to secure the creation of the Smaller War Plants Corporation (SWPC), the first federal agency to represent small manufacturers.

The political transformation that culminated in the Personal Responsibility and Work Opportunity Reconciliation Act fueled scholarly interest in welfare history. As politicians dismantled welfare, scholars discovered long histories of raced and gendered social control, intertwined public and private interests, and fixations on work and personal responsibility. They also recovered more promising possibilities of cash assistance. This article examines foundational welfare histories published between 1971 and 2018. I suggest that this somewhat isolated body of work has shed bright light on the history of neoliberalism from the perspective of people never fully included into social citizenship. It exposes how neoliberalism is and is not different from mid-century liberalism and recovers a long history of resistance. In an era when few talk about cash assistance, welfare historiography is vital for restoring fading memory of its redistributive potential.

During the Civil War, many Americans were prepared for censorship if free speech undermined preserving the Union. Journalists were unable to obtain timely accurate information on the military campaigns either for fear of helping the enemy or depressing morale at home. Self-censorship was far more important than official suppression of free speech, as spontaneous popular pressure curtailed freedom of expression at the beginning of the war and later on the army performed a similar function. For Federals, commitment to preserving the Union required treating Confederates as ubiquitous seditious conspirators. Combatting this internal enemy, in turn, especially in the Border States, required extensive suppression of free speech. Later in the conflict and right across the Union, the critical and urgent need to fill the ranks led to official censorship of any words that might discourage volunteering, and this conflicted with freedom of religion as well as speech and the press.