“Imperial Crucible” tells the story of the Aluminum Company of America (Alcoa) from the company’s founding in Pittsburgh in 1888 through the 1950s. Although scholars have long contended that American multinational corporations played a pivotal role in the industrialization of the United States, the building of a global working class, and the transformation of European empires, they have tended to see these stories as distinct, rather than interconnected. In contrast, Imperial Crucible focuses on a single firm to draw together the political-economic, working-class, and imperial history of American business. What the industrialists behind Alcoa built, I argue, was not a multinational but a transimperial corporation.

This article considers a significant but overlooked set of policy developments in the latter half of the twentieth century: the extension of collective bargaining rights to most health care workers, many of whom were formally excluded for three decades under the 1947 Taft-Hartley amendments. Drawing on primary sources including archival records, an exhaustive review of congressional testimony, and rulings from the quasijudicial agency governing private sector industrial relations, this article shows that health care workers did so in two interrelated processes. First, in coordination with the civil rights movement, workers mobilized and used both disruptive and legal social movement tactics. Second, in doing so they drew the state into and revealed its position in the collective bargaining process between workers and health institutions, facilitating what is conceptualized as cross-domain policy feedback. Cross-domain policy feedback occurs when a policy in one domain (e.g., public health spending) influences the politics of a policy in a seemingly separate one (e.g., labor and employment relations). Such effects, this article suggests, are likely to occur when a policy is relatively large in scale, implicates actors with a diverse set of interests, and offers significant ambiguity and discretion in its implementation. Empirically, this article is the first to chart the institutionalization of collective bargaining rights for health care workers, among the largest group of private sector employees in the postindustrial economy. It also offers a new theoretical and conceptual framework through which to study the ways by which public policies reshape political dynamics—an enduring research agenda for students of American politics and policy.

As labor in the capitalist system practically tripled to some three billion workers, solidary organizations of labor simultaneously dwindled in relative size and power. This is true globally but also for the historical core countries. While this is a paradox, it is not a contradiction. Capital is a (spatialized) social relationship. The globalization of capital since the 1970s has shifted the power relations with localized labor fundamentally in favor of capital, as Charles Tilly noted in this journal almost thirty years ago. Over time, power balances within capitalist states, and between capitalist states and transnationalizing capital, have reflected that basic class-relational shift. This article explains why the globalizing cycle of weakened labor may now be reversing.

Among the dilemmas faced by labor, socialist, and other movements of the subaltern classes striving to change society over the past two centuries, three are discussed here: forms of ownership, bureaucracy and “big tent” formulas for both unity of the working class broadly defined, and alliances with movements of independent owners or undefined class status. Examples are drawn from various countries (France, Italy, Britain, the USA, Brazil, Korea) and from international programmatic discussions. Socialists, notably Marxists, shared the radical republican goal of a true democracy of equals, but differed on the extent of collective ownership (state, local, cooperative) needed in the economy, and the definition of privately owned personal goods that insured an individual’s dignity and independence. The rise and contraction of capitalist states with social services (“welfare states”) complicated the issue. Such movements also accumulated experiences with the growth of experts and/or bureaucrats, and the means to limit their privileges and transformation into a caste-type elite. Three environments which generate such phenomena are identified: social-democratic and big labor, post-capitalist states and, more recently, nongovernmental organizations. Finally, the author discusses alliances with broader social forces which include working-class and non-working-class interests, and the management of cross-class ideologies such as certain varieties of nationalism, feminism, environmentalism, and anti-tax movements.

In the wake of the establishment of the Portuguese in the region, slavery was fundamentally constitutive of early modern society on the west coast of India. While indigenous hierarchies and existing systems of slavery shaped Portuguese slavery, over time, indigenous society too was transformed by the extensive reliance on enslaved labor facilitated by European trafficking networks. Centering slavery in the study of South Asian history underscores the importance of considering the difference between elite projects of enforcing boundaries, both spatial and social, and the ways in which enslaved people negotiated these projects. Thus, instead of taking for granted the classificatory labels of race, caste, and blackness imposed upon enslaved peoples by elite institutions, a social history of slavery elucidates instead the evolution of these mechanisms for policing identity, and the centrality of the expropriation of labor in identity formation.

This essay examines the relationship between race, work, and exclusion during the Long Red Summer of 1919. I focus on several “transportation towns” of railroad employees in Appalachia to argue for the combined importance of labor history and racial ideology in attempts to understand wartime violence. Academic and federal government investigations inform my analysis, as does the robust body of scholarship on railroad labor. After examining racism embedded in railroad work, unions, and community life, the essay then turns to the Wilson administration’s nationalization of the roads during the war. Wartime changes resulted in higher wages for Black workers and many perceived threats to the racialized labor hierarchy. What was once white railroaders’ effort to exclude African Americans from certain jobs became one to expel them from the industry entirely. In several transportation towns that experienced wartime migration, however, this impulse transformed into a campaign to remove Black people from their communities once and for all. I cite testimony from a grand jury trial of an expulsion, railroad union journals, and newspaper accounts of mob violence that made it clear that the transportation towns belonged to white labor at the end of the Long Red Summer.

The US–Mexico–Canada Agreement (USMCA) introduced a new compliance institution for labor rights in trade agreements: the facility-specific Rapid Response Labor Mechanism (RRM). The RRM was developed to tackle one particular thorn in the side of North American integration – labor rights for Mexican workers – as it had had detrimental, long-term political–economic consequences for the US–Mexico trade relationship. This article reviews the unique political–economic moment in the United States and Mexico that prompted the creation of this tool. It describes how the RRM works and the considerable financial and human resources the US and Mexican governments deployed to operationalize it. The article then reports a number of stylized facts on how governments used the RRM during its first three years, largely in the auto sector. It proposes paths of potentially fruitful political–economic research to aid understanding of the full implications of the RRM and concludes with preliminary lessons as well as a discussion on the potential for policymakers to assess facility-specific mechanisms for labor or other issues, such as the environment, in future economic agreements.

Like other European countries, Austria introduced employment restrictions for foreigners after World War I. Access to the labor market was to be reserved primarily for Austrian citizens. These new regulations related exclusively to dependent employees and allowed exceptions in view of family reunification, among other things. They were based on official labor market categories and reflected widely accepted imaginations of gender-specific abilities and responsibilities. However, many foreigners earned their living in a household context and their activities hardly matched the official categories of work and family. Since decision-making on employment permits required unambiguous categorization, this situation posed a dilemma for the authorities in charge. Given the vast variety of work arrangements and relations, they struggled to clearly draw the line between “employed” and “not employed” workers. Using the example of domestic help and Bulgarian gardeners, this article investigates administrative authorities' attempts to make such distinctions and it examines migrants' efforts to occupy labor market niches. While migrants un/intentionally circumvented regulations and made their living in Austria, the ongoing disputes paradoxically contributed to an enforcement of restrictions. Administrative authorities gradually increased their endeavor to locate unauthorized foreign workers even within households and they sharpened the criteria for their categorization.

This introduction sets out the context for the special feature on gender and deindustrialization. It briefly outlines the development of research in this field and the contribution made by the articles included in this issue, before pointing to some directions for future research.

Among the many human rights and corruption concerns surrounding the Qatar 2022 FIFA Men’s World Cup, two ultimately rose to the fore: labor and LGBTQ+ rights. A careful look at Qatar’s response to these issues reveals a sharp and provocative contrast. Though the World Cup organizers and the Qatari Government generally resisted Western criticism of its LGBTQ+ laws and practices, both bodies adopted systemic labor reforms. To the extent these reforms remain in place several years after the event, they can be said to constitute a human rights legacy. This Article explores one angle from which to understand this contrast. It distinguishes between principles, which are deeply rooted in a country’s political, cultural, or religious belief system, and practices, which find their support in convenience, profit, and the self-interest of entrenched powers but which lack a deeper cultural, philosophical, or religious grounding. It further argues that sexual morality is best understood in the context of Qatari law and culture as a principle, while the labor abuses are mere practices. This distinction helps explain the disparate levels of reform and legacy: to the extent human rights violations are rooted in principles, the likelihood of reform and therefore of legacy is relatively low; where these violations are rooted merely in practices, the likelihood may be substantially higher. This distinction can also help to predict how future host countries/cities will respond to the human rights standards that megasport governing bodies increasingly enforce.