In response to an invitation from the editor of Enterprise & Society, last year David Sicilia and I put out a call for papers for a special issue of the journal that would focus on gender and business history. The call elicited twenty-five submissions, an impressive array of scholarship from authors who addressed the subject from a range of theoretical and disciplinary approaches. From these submissions, we chose the four articles that appear in this volume and three others that will be published in the next issue of Enterprise & Society (June 2001). We made our final selections on the basis of thematic, national, and organizational representativeness and on the ways in which the articles complemented each other and revealed aspects of the “state of the field.” Let me thank the more than fifty referees who generously read and commented anonymously on the original submissions. I enjoyed working with them, with the authors, and with David in this communal endeavor.

With few exceptions, historians have argued that in the nineteenth century women were excluded from most retail activities. In Europe women became increasingly concentrated in small-scale, undercapitalized, and short-lived stores. The “separate sphere” ideology in its different guises underlay this evolution. In North America, on the other hand, women capitalized on this ideology to carve a niche for themselves in trade and retailing. Women were not marginalized or segregated everywhere in Europe, however. In northern France the expansion of retail trade and overall improvements in standards of living provided women, especially married ones, with opportunities they were not reluctant to grasp. Though the activities of married women remained subordinated to the needs of their families, female retailers were neither particularly impoverished nor segregated in sectors deemed appropriate for persons of their sex.

Taking a broad view of historians' work on the rise of big business in the United States over the last half-century, this article attempts to assess both where business history has been and where it may go in the future. The analysis recognizes the centrality of the impact made by Alfred D. Chandler, Jr., but it also delves into other paths, including some not taken, of interest to historians. This wide-ranging interpretation also maintains the importance of big business itself as a subject worthy of historical attention and argues that its crucial role in the development of American society has not yet been considered by mainstream historians with the intensity it deserves. Musing over the nearly constant preoccupation of practitioners with defining the scope of business history as a field, the essay highlights a number of topics needing attention, suggesting that historians of business are well positioned to shed light on the growing role of business in all aspects of life in the twenty-first century.

How do business leaders make decisions in the face of uncertainty? More important, how do business and economic historians write a narrative that links a business problem, its proposed solution, and the outcome of this action without allowing the success or failure of the decision to determine the trajectory of the story? Counterfactual hypotheses and contextual analysis provide two tools that can help historians minimize the distortions of hindsight and recover a sense of the contingency that surrounds all decisions.

Women's work has often been portrayed as unskilled and lowpaid labor done for the benefit of others. But the role of female enterprise in eighteenth-century Lyon presents another dimension: non-guild women workers who secured control of raw materials, labor,and distribution networks within an underground economy. In an unusual twist of fortune,a small but significant number of women in the silk,hat-making, and button-making industries turned to their own benefit the advantages customarily provided to male entrepreneurs. These women workers stole materials from the guild workshops in which they were employed. Having learned the technology needed to manufacture silk,hats,and buttons from guild masters,they set up clandestine workshops and trained their own workers. Even in the face of official guild protest,their low prices and competent workmanship induced some masters to buy their goods to reduce the cost of their own products. The women used a set of capitalist practices to survive in a difficult transitional era of superficially regulated norms.

Early twentieth-century advertising discourses on the archetypal boy consumer promoted a masculinized ideal of consumption that broke decisively from the stereotype of the emotion-driven female shopper. Boys were lauded as rational, informed buyers who prized technological innovation and influenced parents and peers. While touting boys' ample consumer appetites, promoters of the boy consumer also depicted boys' interest in advertised goods as worthy of entrepreneurial-minded self-improvers. The ideal of the boy consumer thus harmonized the potentially hedonistic ethos of consumerism with older ideals of productivity and industriousness. New ideologies of manhood that valorized enthusiasm, loyalty, and salesmanship confirmed the boy consumer's manly vitality.

Exploring the relationship between gender differences in labor turnover—which have been linked to male-female wage differentials—and the early twentieth-century development of internal labor markets, this case study suggests that observed gender differences in labor turnover in the twentieth century can be attributed, at least in part, to the specific employment policy decisions of firms. These policies, and the internal labor markets they helped create, directly addressed some of the causes of male turnover but did little to confront the sources (often non-market) of female turnover. The results of this analysis call into question the assumption that the higher rate of female turnover is exogenously determined.

Between 1890 and 1940, motion pictures changed from technological novelties into heavily branded consumer products. The high sunk costs and short “shelf-life” of movies led film producers to borrow branding techniques from other consumer goods industries. They tried to build audience loyalty around a number of characteristics, but eventually learned that stars and stories were the most effective “promotion machines,” able swiftly to generate massive brand-awareness and to persuade consumers to see a new film. Data from the United States, Britain, and France showing the disproportionate distribution of income and fame among stars confirm their role as persuaders. Ultimately, film producers extended the life of their products by licensing their instant, tradable brands to other consumer goods industries.

Traditional kinship relations denied African women access to property and cash income. As they moved out of the traditional sector to urban centers, women created opportunities for independent earnings, and they displayed remarkable entrepreneurial spirit in undertaking informal economic activities. One of their tactics was the utilization of a type of rotating credit and savings organization (ROSCA), the stokvel, to mobilize savings outside the formal financial structure. This article brings together scattered research on stokvels, traces their past and present uses by African women, and concludes with an exploration of the reasons for the persistence of these forms despite the development of sophisticated financial structures in modern South Africa.

Women flourished as producers, directors, screenwriters, and editors in the first quarter-century of the film industry. But by 1925 their presence in all but screenwriting was severely diminished. The argument of this essay is that the process of gendering the industry ultimately closed studio doors to female filmmakers. As studios moved from the artistic and entrepreneurial stage, conducive to the perceived qualities of women, to the corporate stage, the needs of the industry became masculinized and women were excluded. This process is explored by examining the assumptions regarding gender inherited by the early movie industry and the context in which gender was discussed within the industry, and by asking whether explicit assumptions about the fitness of women and men were ever factors in determining what and who a filmmaker should be.

The three companies whose history forms the subject of this article became leaders in a sector of the British economy—consumer goods—generally regarded as one of the most successful in the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Product innovation and development, achieved internally or through acquisition, enabled these firms to become market leaders. We therefore analyze the processes of product development within the three firms, using a systematic framework that allows us to offer generalizations about the process of product innovation and development in the consumer goods sector in Britain. We conclude that gradual modification, rather than revolutionary innovation, was characteristic of product development in the household goods trade, and that technology was less important for success than marketing skill.

The media celebration of media owner Ted Turner's career and personal biography reflects important shifts in the image of American corporate leadership over the past thirty years.Even aspects of Turner’s life we would normally consider private, such as his sex life and his marriage to Jane Fonda, have taken on this very public function.As a result Turner has served as a transitional figure between two competing visions of corporate identity and responsibility: paternalist managerialism and the “real entity” theory of the firm on the one hand, and on the other, antimanagerial market adventurism and the new economic theory of the firm as a nexus of contracts.The story of how Turner has come to serve this gender-charged iconic function helps clarify how the balance of representational power continues to shift back and forth between these two visions during a period of considerable upheaval in the social, legal, and symbolic construction of the American corporation.

Management theory andtransaction cost economics provide few insights into the dynamics of multilateral negotiations. A host of factors suggest that complex transactions—especially those that involve government agencies—face a high probability of failure. Yet history records many examples of successful multiple-party transactions. Using the records of a major Australian iron ore mining venture, Hamersley Iron, this article reveals a number of the tactics that are usedto engineer an agreement when the parties concerned have conflicting objectives, different cultural affiliations, and distinctive institutional ties. The essay also exposes some of the devices that the Japanese steel industry—Hamersley’s main customer—used to secure competitive advantages in raw material procurement during the industry’s rise to international prominence.

Because most histories of military-industrial relations have rested on the examples of arms production and shipbuilding, balanced accounts of military procurement and technologies during the nineteenth century are difficult to find. In fact, weapons and ships accounted for a relatively small fraction of all the goods and services consumed by nineteenth-century armed forces. This article, which describes the tent industry in the United States during the Civil War, suggests that many military enterprises of the period were characterized by an industrial dynamic that was relatively extensive rather than intensive. In the U.S. tent industry, the leading military contractors were mercantile firms, which stood at the center of disintegrated production and distribution networks. Featuring relatively low-capital production arrangements, large numbers of women workers, and powerful mercantile intermediaries who linked manufacturers and army purchasing agents, the Civil War tent business is an example that challenges traditional accounts of the economic foundations of nineteenth-century military capability.