Concentration in many industries has increased markedly in recent decades in the United States, although in Europe it has been stable or has even decreased. Where concentration has increased, the question arises as to how to measure the extent of competition (or the degree to which it is contestable) in a market in which there are relatively few competing firms, over the long term. This article explores competition in clearing banking in the UK from 1946 to 1971. This period is of interest in the context of industry concentration because clearing banking was relatively concentrated and, it has long been argued, uncompetitive. The article evaluates competition from four perspectives. First, it considers the competitiveness of London clearing banking from a quantitative perspective. Next, it evaluates competition through the lens of competition policy, particularly the extent to which monopoly, mergers, and restrictive trade practices existed in clearing banking. Third, the conclusions of the National Board for Prices and Incomes’ report into bank charges in 1967 are considered. Finally, it explores the extent to which the clearing banks were open to and embraced change, and were innovative, assuming that these qualities are more likely to be present when there is competition among banks. It questions key aspects of the dominant interpretation of clearing banking as uncompetitive and slow to innovate.

The recent arrival of women on corporate boards has been extensively discussed in the literature. However, most of the studies focus on very recent times. This article analyzes the presence of women on the corporate boards of the largest firms in Switzerland across the past hundred years. It shows that until the beginning of the 1970s, the very few women sitting on the boardrooms belonged to the families owning the firms. Two main factors contributed then to the progressive opening of the corporate elites to women. First, the extending in 1971 of “universal suffrage” to women led to a feminization of the political elites, and women with a political profile entered the boardrooms of firms in the distribution and retailing sector. Second, the increasing globalization of the economy at the end of the twentieth century contributed to weaken the cohesion of the very male and Swiss corporate elite. At the beginning of the twenty-first century, however, the presence of women remained low in international comparison, and they were still hitting the “glass ceiling” regarding the top positions in the firm.

This article reinterprets Asian industrialization during the Cold War through the lens of a forgotten commodity: the South Korean wig. Wigs were critical to Asia’s “miraculous” economic growth—a US$1 billion industry in 1970, as well as the number two export in South Korea and number four in Hong Kong at the height of export-oriented industrialization. The article makes a methodological argument, suggesting that we see industrialization differently when we “follow” a commodity transnationally—from the heads of rural South Koreans to the hands of Seoul factory workers to the shoulder bags of Korean American peddlers to the heads of African American women—and when we integrate bottom-up and top-down views of the commodity’s “life.” Only by taking this global perspective can we see how U.S. imperialism shaped the ways people and things moved across borders and oceans and how Cold War commodities were haunted by the lives of the people who touched them.

By looking at the policy termination of state aid to shipbuilders in Amsterdam, this article illustrates how a major policy paradigm shift within recent history, and the change from Keynesian to neoliberal policies, can be explained. The article is informed by a multilevel governance approach to policy change analysis and is based on different types of sources. It presents an in-depth case study of the closing of the Amsterdam shipyards and analyzes the role of policy change at different governance levels (i.e., city government, national Parliament, national government, and the European Commission). In doing so, we are able to illustrate how new actors—in this case the European Commission and the Commissioner for Competition—were able to terminate long-existing policies of state aid to shipbuilders under the auspices of improving competition and the free market at the start of the 1980s.

In this article, we study the role that media plays during a speculative bubble on an emerging market, and in particular the London financial press’s relation to the West African mining bubble of the early twentieth century. The focus is on the leading company in this sector at the time, Ashanti Goldfields Corporation. The London financial press lacked access to independent, reliable information on the ground, so it often failed to provide readers with relevant factual information. In some instances, the press might have even fueled the speculative cycles through the reporting it provided.

In the late 1980s and early 1990s, many U.S. business leaders resolved to go “beyond compliance” with environmental regulations. Manufacturers sought to become more eco-efficient by reducing how much waste they produced per unit of output. Some companies developed greener products. However, the new commitment to sustainability only went so far: Few executives fundamentally rethought their business models. What drove the rise of corporate concern about sustainability, and why did those drivers fall short? The incentives to become greener were partial. They affected some companies more than others, and they only rewarded efforts to reduce some environmental impacts. By analyzing the limits of corporate interest in sustainability in the late 1980s and early 1990s, this article offers fresh insight into the challenge of greening the economy.

Considerations about the legitimacy of futures trading have been ubiquitous in the highly integrated world economy since the late nineteenth century. This article compares two national debates in Germany and British India from the 1880s to the 1930s. Despite significant differences in the cultural and economic contexts of the two countries and in the emergence of futures trading, there are interesting similarities. In both countries, individual futures exchanges were organized and controlled by small privileged groups of traders. These minorities were glued together by social ties, de facto controlling (or profiting from) access to futures markets and facing criticism because of their privileged position. While contemporaries and historians often focus on futures trading as trading without intent to deliver, the historical analysis in this article shows that an equally important issue was the conflict over distribution and power between more and less privileged interest groups and their respective market access.

This paper proposes a classification of government expropriations of foreign property based on the types of alliances sought out by governments in their quest for support for those actions. Based on a review of historical literature and social science studies of expropriations in sub-Saharan Africa and Latin America in the twentieth century, we define three types of alliances: with organized labor, with domestic business owners, or with sections of the civil service or the ruling party. We posit that each sector allying itself with the government expects rewards from the expropriation. We maintain that the type of alliance is determined by several factors, in particular, the longevity and legitimacy of the nation-state of the expropriating country, the strength of organized labor, and the political participation and strength of the domestic business sector. Our framework complements existing studies explaining when and why expropriations take place.

Over the past two decades, the Japanese apparel industry has lost its competitiveness after experiencing a period of fast growth from the postwar years to the early 1990s. In international literature in social sciences, most scholars offer ethnic-based explanations of fashion in Japan, stressing some specificities such as street fashion or star designers in Paris. This article, however, argues that such views are biased and cannot explain the current lack of competitiveness of the Japanese apparel industry. Using the concept of the “fashion system” and following a business history-oriented approach, we offer a new interpretation of the emergence of Western clothing and fashion in Japan during the second part of the twentieth century. This interpretation demonstrates that the characteristics of the Japanese fashion system lie in a focus on the issues of production and technology, both of which led both to an extreme segmentation of the domestic market and to weaker brands.

This article revisits the story of one the greatest financial frauds in history: Poyais. In the 1820s, Gregor MacGregor issued bonds for this alleged fictitious Central American state on the London capital market. Putting together scattered evidence reveals a complex, multifaceted experiment undertaken by a private adventurer hoping to politically and economically position himself in a changing world. Poyais was a failed project to establish a settlement on a territory granted by an Indigenous leader and financed through British capital markets. Studying a financial failure provides nuanced insights into the political and legal frameworks defining origination processes of early nineteenth-century foreign loans. Following MacGregor’s actions entails drawing a story with contours that extend well beyond the City of London, revealing a rich set of transatlantic actors and spaces not known to be traditionally linked to the London-based capital market. The story of Poyais constitutes a window into the early financial dynamics of private colonialism and how these contributed to British imperial expansion. The Poyais loan appears as constituting a financial endeavor born from the encounter of different “worlds,” with MacGregor mediating these together but ultimately failing to legally and politically guarantee their lasting encounter.

The nineteenth-century growth of the London Stock Exchange and the development of the market for stocks and shares are familiar topics of study. This article provides an alternative perspective on them by decentering the London Stock Exchange and focusing instead on the activities of “outside stockbrokers”—those who operated outside the Stock Exchange and its rules. Often regarded as peripheral, these brokers were in fact instrumental in promoting investment and speculation to a mass market. The article examines their innovative methods, and seeks to explain why they were so successful, despite persistent—and sometimes justifiable—accusations of fraud. It suggests how perspectives from the history of consumer society provide fresh insights into the market for financial products. And it underlines the importance of looking outside formal markets by arguing that focusing on “fringe” markets can help scholars to rethink boundaries, relations, and practices in the history of capitalism.

The history of insurance has been characterized in most countries by the coexistence of a wide range of organizational forms. The reasons for this plethora of vehicles remain unclear, as does the impact of this diversity on the development of insurance around the world. Drawing on the latest research, this paper examines, first, the different functions of the state in relation to insurance in a wide range of national markets from the early modern period to the present century; second, the path-dependent effects that determined the historical distribution of public and private forms of insurance; and third, the relation between public and private insurance and its impact on market development.

In this article, I trace the credit and debt practices of a company incorporated in the UK to extract “wild rubber” in the Amazon. Based on reports by Sir Roger Casement, an officer of the British diplomatic service, I present a general description of the organization of the Peruvian Amazon Co., whose operation did not depend on investment in technology or infrastructure but, rather, on the flow of credit in the form of merchandise. I will discuss debt-peonage as the form of labor privileged by the wild rubber industry in the Amazon and show how it works when indigenous peoples and their territories are involved, as was the case in Putumayo. I argue that the concept of debt-peonage is misleading in this situation, as it obscures both the conditions and the relations into which the Indians, as a society, were forced. I will highlight the role of debt in this relation, commonly referred to as the “conquest” of the Indians, as constitutive of both physical and symbolic violence. I conclude showing how credit and debt, usually considered to be instrumental for the development of capitalism, are here at the core of a system that not only was opposed to the logic of the market, but also strangled local production and exchange networks. The “credit engine” became here an instrument of genocide.

This article explores early twentieth-century debates about wine regulation in order to understand how emerging food standards could be mobilized in order to produce and protect value around particular geographical locales. Ohio and Missouri winemakers sought to protect their practices of “amelioration,” or the addition of sugar and water to acidic or foxy wines, by establishing the regulatory designation of “Ohio and Missouri Wine” as separate from “Wine.” In doing so, they turned food standards into a form of intellectual property mobilized to protect their practices and enhance the market value of Ohio and Missouri wines. Conversely, they argued that “universal” wine standards were unduly preferential to California wines. This compelling yet forgotten historical episode inverts the rationale behind geographical indications (a form of intellectual property designed to protect the intrinsic benefits of place) producing a unique argument for geographical protections based not on value but on lack.

In the 1950s, outdoor retailer Eddie Bauer donated down jackets to American mountaineers embarking on climbing expeditions in the Himalayas. In the 1990s, chemical manufacturer W. L. Gore & Associates donated both goods and $2 million to an expedition in Antarctica. The funds dedicated to sponsorship by the end of the twentieth century reflect a shift in how companies saw expeditions as useful to their marketing goals. This article uses two archives previously unexplored by historians that offer an unprecedented chance to compare sponsorship relationships in a single industry across decades. Commercial sponsorship of American expeditions and athletes has undergone three dramatic changes since 1950, and these shifts help explain how sponsorship as a form of marketing became so popular. Sponsorship contracts shifted from vague to specific as a result of decades of unsatisfying results for corporate sponsors. Sponsored athletes became business partners and began taking an active role in promoting the companies that provided them cash or donations in-kind. Finally, companies developed strategies for leveraging their sponsorship deals. The changing landscape of the business of expeditions ultimately reveals how the most long-lasting legacies of these extreme adventures happened far from the trail and much closer to company boardrooms, sponsorship managers’ offices and retail stores where consumers learned to engage with the narratives companies and athletes had crafted together.