The Science of Difference examines life insurance companies' significant impact on the development of systems of human classification and discrimination in modern America. It pays closest attention to the tools employed by life insurance companies to enable and justify their discriminatory practices, tracing their evolution over the course of the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Companies used life tables to think about sectional difference prior to the civil war; they collected statistics to defend the propriety of racial discrimination; and they revolutionized risk by inventing the medical “impairment.” Drawing on company archives and personal papers, as well as a wide range of publications, the dissertation describes corporate research in the financial industry, argues for the importance of cultural factors in tracing business history, and shows how the industry built a national statistical community with tools designed to measure and price human difference.

By World War I, the public (and later, many historians) had come to believe that teams of anonymous scientists in corporate research and development (R&D) laboratories had displaced “heroic” individual inventors like Thomas Edison and Alexander Graham Bell as the wellspring of innovation. However, the first half of the twentieth century was actually a long transitional period when lesser known independents like Chester Carlson (Xerox copier), Earl Tupper (Tupperware), Samuel Ruben (Duracell batteries), and Edwin Land (Polaroid camera) continued to make notable contributions to the overall context of innovation. Accordingly, my dissertation considers the changing fortunes of American independent inventors from approximately 1900 to 1950, a period of expanding corporate R&D, the Great Depression, and two world wars. Contrary to most interpretations of this period, I argue that individual, “post-heroic” inventors remained an important, though less visible, source of inventions in the early twentieth century.

My dissertation traces the invention and development of a new form of banking, body banking. Today, the body bank as an institution that collects, stores, processes, and distributes a human body product is a taken-for-granted aspect of medicine in the United States. We donate to blood banks, we cherish sperm bank babies, and we contemplate many sorts of banks, including cord blood banks, gene banks, and egg banks. Such institutions have existed for the past century in the metaphorical shadow of financial banks, and like those better-studied banks have stirred considerable controversy. The driving question behind my dissertation is simply, why banks? How did we come to use “bank” to apply to bodies as well as to dollars? More intriguingly, what does this analogy show us and what is it hiding?

This essay examines the role of working-class consumers in public debates over the public regulation of food and fuel markets in Philadelphia in the years leading up to the Panic of 1837. As price spikes in these necessities inflamed the cries for state authorities to insure fair prices for these goods and to put an end to the growing scale and scope of free market capitalism, these pleas went unfulfilled. Instead, urban residents saw many of the longstanding measures designed to protect less affluent Americans from devastating price swings—regulated marketplaces for meat, traditional fuel markets, and the bread assize, for example—had eroded as policymakers offered a vision of a free market economy that pushed aside longstanding assumptions about the role of public officials in the marketplace itself.

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.

A new conceptualization of corporate social responsibility (CSR) is presented as a means of asserting and maintaining corporate control in the face of political, economic, and social challenges. The Anglo-Iranian Oil Company (AIOC) applied different strategies to maintain control of its Iranian assets in the face nationalist demands—political and covert mechanisms, market based, resource access controls, and CSR programs. This paper investigates the third, and least explored, strand of their strategy. It identifies managerial strategies for CSR engagement with respect to three corresponding interest groups: politicians and diplomats, shareholders, and local employees, drawing on a variety of previously unused archival sources. From prior studies it is unclear whether the AIOC's CSR programs, for example, in employment and housing, were motivated by social improvement, its business agenda, or responses to legislative pressures from the Iranian government. A detailed examination of CSR policy and private correspondence between AIOC's senior executives about their negotiations with the Iranian government shows that they engaged in and reported voluntary CSR activities to strengthen their reputation and negotiating position but refused to compromise on aspects of CSR that threatened the existing managerial hierarchy of control. This interpretation is supported by a content analysis of the company's annual reports in the years before and after nationalization, revealing a choice of topics and language intended to support its self-presentation as a socially concerned employer. The results of this study have wider implications for understanding CSR reporting as a corporate strategy to enhance negotiating and bargaining positions.

The Alcoa Building (1953) and Fiberglas Tower (1969) exemplify “architecture parlante”, literally buildings that speak of their function and meaning. They said—in steel, aluminum and (fiber)glass—this is who we are; this is what we do; this is how we do it. They provided prestige, visibility, and a sense of collective identity. Alcoa and Owens-Corning intended their signature buildings as larger than life advertisements for their signature products. The executives who commissioned them also expected the buildings themselves to reflect, and reinforce, new management styles. In the early 1990s, Alcoa and Owen-Corning commissioned new headquarters buildings that reflected a new management style thought to be appropirate for an emerging era of the flat organization and the ‘networked corporation’. Like their predecessors, these buildings sent an unmistakable message about management priorities. The buildings – outside and in – helped bring the organization, and the organizational chart, to life, both symbolically and pragmatically. Read carefully, a signature building can be a revealing corporate memoir.