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Emigration from Europe, 1815-1930

Author(s):Baines, Dudley
Reviewer(s):Wegge, Simone A.

EH.NET BOOK REVIEW

Published by EH.NET (August 1997)

Dudley Baines, Emigration from Europe 1815-1930. New York: Cambridge University Press, 1995. 84 pp. $10.95 (paper), ISBN: 0 521 55783 6; $34.95 (cloth), ISBN: 0 521 55270 2.

Reviewed for EH.NET by Simone A. Wegge, Department of Economics and Business, Lake Forest College.

This book is part of the series commissioned by the Economic History Society entitled New Studies in Economic and Social History. As such, the author’s intent is to summarize the literature on nineteenth-century European emigration, covering both key findings and current debates, as well as unresolved questions. Professor Baines meets this objective in admirable fashion, always communicating his ideas on migration in a well thought-out manner and making them easily accessible to both historians and economists. Baines knows the data and the issues, but even more importantly what we do not know and what we cannot answer at present. Baines (Department of Economic History, London School of Economics) focuses most of his discussion on understanding the motivations of emigrants but also touches on issues related to immigration, such as the effects of labor inflows on economies of the destination countries, or the assimilation of migrants in their adopted homelands.

In the first few chapters, Baines lays out the main questions of the literature. Chief on Baines’ list is the issue of how to model and ultimately explain emigration behavior. Throughout the book Baines makes use of two models of migration to discuss emigrant behavior, the standard Heckscher-Ohlin model in international economics that explains factor mobility, and a “core-periphery” model from development economics, which states that as more advanced core countries further industrialize their demand for unskilled labor or unskilled migrants increases. Baines raises a very interesting question in his discussion of migration models: can one explain emigration with a single elegant model? Unfortunately not, as the author appropriately points out, “…one problem has been the ability of different models to obtain different but statistically significant results about the same group of emigrants” (p. 20). Baines blames this on a lack of proper data as well as the use of inappropriate models.

A heavier dose of micro models could have been added to the presentation of the material. Oded Stark’s work on the microeconomics of migration comes to mind, particularly his emphasis on risk-avoidance, family decision models, and relative-deprivation as motivation for mobility. Still, Baines encourages readers to view migration more generally as an economic decision at the individual level: whether an individual decides to emigrate or not depends on how he perceives his economic options at home and abroad. Migration models at the individual level also help us to understand how emigrants are self-selected. The historical evidence shows that emigrants are self-selected on the basis of occupation, gender, and most importantly, on the basis of youth.

Further, Baines believes that the role of information is crucial to understanding the individual decisions of emigrants. What sorts of information did emigrants have about the various destination countries, and how did they view their prospects? All very difficult, if not impossible, questions to answer. Some of this we may be able to glean from emigrant letter studies. Emigrant letters, used to study the issue of information and motivation and ultimately chain migration, however, cannot be viewed as an unbiased source. Baines notes one of these biases, that some letters may have been written with the intent of encouraging the recipients to emigrate (p. 32). There are, however, additional biases. For example, emigrants only wrote home when there was someone to write to, thus leading the examiner of letters to uncover chains and perhaps over-emphasize the influence of chain effects on emigration behavior.

These sorts of observations buttress the author’s preference for studies of migration at the lowest level of analysis possible. Emigration rates, for instance, certainly vary by country but they also vary at the intra-country level as the author discusses in Chapter 4. Here Baines, as in his other writings, advocates breaking down the country emigration rates by region and preferably by village if they are to be understood properly. Baines refers to chain migration for a possible explanation, but may too hastily claim that regions with sustained traditions of high emigration rates were places where chain migration mattered the most (p. 28). I suggest that the reader defer to future research.

In contrast to the variance in rates, nations experienced both high and low points in the rate of emigration at similar points in time. Baines argues that there were enough differences between countries, and thus we must base this on the cyclical nature of the destination countries’ economies. The reader should note that the evidence for this (Brinley Thomas’ Migration and Economic Growth, Cambridge, 1973) is mostly for the decades after 1870. Here, Baines supports his argument on an examination of possible factors in European nations that might contribute to emigration, including high population growth rates, a fixed supply of land, political discrimination, and so forth. This exercise, he argues, does not help us to understand why more Europeans did not leave. Therefore, we should look at the various peculiarities facing potential emigrants in their hour of decision. Wage and unemployment rates are discussed, but according to the author future mileage might be gained by getting a hand on internal and return migration, as well as using cross-sectional rather than time series data. Baines should stress that we also need more studies of those who stayed.

Return migration is briefly considered in Chapter 5. Why did more people not return to their homelands? Indeed, more emigrants did return in the post-1860 era of cheaper transport. A more complete answer has to do with emigrants’ ages, the degree to which emigrants were economically connected with their family and community back in the homeland, and whether they were male. The percentage of men among the returnees was higher than among the emigrants (p. 36).

Emigration changed in other important ways over the nineteenth century, as Baines notes in Chapter 6. Early migrations tended to be composed of many families, while later migrations contained more single individuals. This is as of yet not completely understood, but Baines suspects that the decline in transport costs had the effect of making emigration decisions less final and more attractive to individuals who planned to return within a short period. But more simply, the drop in the real price of passage made emigration also more possible for a larger segment (younger) of the European population.

Baines discusses how industrialization over the nineteenth century made a difference for emigrants in Chapter 8. Many economists might think that little or no economic growth will induce high emigration rates, as the cases of Ireland and Italy demonstrate. But we also have England, which experienced heavy economic growth and high rates of emigration, making for a contrasting case study. Baines draws on the Scandinavian literature and his own work on Britain to expand this into a discussion on stage migration and internal migration. He argues that stage-migration is more important for Scandinavia than for England (p. 53).

Cross-country comparisons and almost two centuries of immigration experience provide a fertile backdrop in Chapter 9 for a discussion on the economic effects of immigration. In an environment where resources were abundant and laborers scarce, most destination countries did not experience a reduction in the rate of income growth over the historical period of analysis. When labor markets were affected, unskilled workers in industries with few economies of scale bore the brunt of wage declines, while “immigration allowed other workers to be upwardly displaced … into sectors that did have increasing returns” (p. 55). Hence, economies of scale, the ability of destination countries to increase investment, and the degree of segmentation of labor markets all played a part in determining whether immigrants were welcomed or disdained.

For the scholars and students wishing a concisely worded statement on the economic history of emigration, this is the book to read. Baines has a deep and thorough understanding of emigration and addresses many of the interesting and relevant questions in the literature. His intimate knowledge of the primary sources underlying emigration studies is well apparent in his advice to the reader about the biases and the quality of existing historical sources of migration data. Typical of other studies in this series, the bibliography contains short descriptions for many of the works cited, making for a helpful reference guide. Finally, those familiar with Baines’ other writings on emigration, in particular his book on British emigration, Migration in a Mature Economy (Cambridge, 1985), may wish that this little book had been quite a bit longer and contained even more of his insights into nineteenth century European emigration.

Simone A. Wegge Department of Economics and Business Lake Forest College

Simone Wegge is author of a dissertation entitled “Migration Decisions in Mid Nineteenth-Century Germany,” completed in May 1997.

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Subject(s):Historical Demography, including Migration
Geographic Area(s):General, International, or Comparative
Time Period(s):19th Century

Everyday Things in Premodern Japan: The Hidden Legacy of Material Culture

Author(s):Hanley, Susan B.
Reviewer(s):Honda, Gail

EH.NET BOOK REVIEW

Published by EH.NET (July 1997)

Susan B. Hanley. Everyday Things in Premodern Japan: The Hidden Legacy of Material Culture. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1997. xiv + 213 pp. $35.00 (cloth), ISBN: 0-520-20470-0.

Reviewed for EH.Net by Gail Honda, Department of Sociology, University of Chicago.

What do the objects which surround us–the food we eat, the clothes we wear, the homes we live in–tell us about how well we are living? How are they indicative of our health and physical well-being? Can we gauge our progress as a society by observing and analyzing the material world around us?

Susan B. Hanley, in her latest book on Tokugawa (1600-1868) Japan, culls a dazzling array of material evidence to argue that the level of physical well-being of the Japanese rose throughout the Tokugawa period, and that life in Tokugawa Japan was healthful relative to that in industrialized Europe. This high level of physical well-being, which existed on the eve of Japan’s industrial revolution (1868-1945), gave rise to a robust and literate labor force which enabled the Japanese to build a powerful industrial nation. Moreover, she argues, what we have come to know as everyday “traditional” Japanese material life, which was cultivated during the 250 years of the Tokugawa period, persisted through the middle of the twentieth century, and provided a foundation of stability which eased the often turbulent transition in government, the economy, and social structure.

With the discerning eye of a master novelist, and an equally engaging literary style, Hanley, Professor of Japanese Studies and History at the University of Washington, takes the reader on a tour of everyday life in Tokugawa Japan, all the while analyzing the objects of consideration and carefully piecing them together in her cogently honed argument. One can almost smell the rough-hewn walls and bare earthen floors of the early Tokugawa one-room commoner homes as she describes their cool, dark interiors and central gathering area for cooking and heating. By the end of the Tokugawa period, she writes, the typical commoner home had several rooms, raised foundations, wooden or tatami (rush mat) floors, and sliding paper doors which enabled the residents to open the interior to the sunshine and warm breezes of the outdoors. All of these changes, Hanley argues, led to a more healthful living environment which raised the level of physical well-being of the Japanese.

She defines the level of physical well-being as “the standard of living [defined as per capita income] plus ‘quality factors’ that can be positive or negative. . .Examples of quality factors are the quality and level of nutrition, incidence of disease, level of general health, number of children per family, the percentage of dependent persons, the size and quality of housing, the kind of heat available, and the many other aspects of life that affect our physical well being” (pp. 10-11). Hanley then analyzes the quality factors by examining what she calls material culture, or “physical objects that people use or consume in their everyday lives, most of which are either made or else natural objects put to specific use by people. . . [She] concentrate[s] on what are considered the basics: food, clothing, and shelter, and concomitant aspects such as hygiene and sanitation. The artifacts of daily life reveal use of resources, the level of technology, how people cooked, what kind of houses they lived in, and levels of comfort, sanitation, and health–in short, how people lived” (p. 12).

Specifically, Hanley finds that Tokugawa Japan’s material culture gave rise to many positive quality factors which elevated the the Japanese people’s physical well-being to a level higher than the standard of living alone would indicate. To cite a few examples of quality factors from the many intriguing ones she presents: the daily 1900-calorie Tokugawa diet of grains, vegetables, and soybean products was probably not only adequate for the body stature of people at the time (army recruits had an average height of 5’4″ in the late-nineteenth century), but was comparable to the late-nineteenth century English commoner diet of bread, porridge, biscuits, vegetables, milk, cheese, and lard. With regard to personal hygiene, Hanley points out that regular bathing was not an important part of Western culture until the nineteenth century, whereas in Japan accounts of public baths and references to bathing regulations indicate that bathing was a widespread custom by the eighteenth century. The Tokugawa water supply and sewage system were also quite healthful relative to systems in Europe because of the custom of collecting urine and night soil for fertilizer. Rather than allow human waste to collect in cesspools where excrement could seep into the subsoil, or to be flushed into rivers which fed into the drinking water supply, as was commonly done in the West, the Japanese assiduously collected, then bought and sold human waste and thereby avoided the problem of water supply contamination. As a result of many of these positive quality factors, life expectancy in Tokugawa Japan, Hanley demonstrates, was similar to that of nineteenth century Europe.

Thus, Hanley’s book is a valuable contribution to the literature in economic history, Japanese history, and historical demography in four primary ways: first, it offers plausible reasons and solid evidence for Japan’s success in industrializing beginning in the late nineteenth century; second, it stimulates cross-cultural comparisons by presenting evidence which can be reasonably compared across countries; third, it provides insight into and information on the everyday life of Japanese commoners during the Tokugawa period; and fourth, it discusses life expectancy, fertility control, and family structure, all important gauges of the level of physical well-being in Tokugawa Japan. Thoroughly researched and highly readable, Everyday Things in Premodern Japan will not only be widely used as a reference book, but will surely be savored by many whose interest will be held from cover to cover.

Gail Honda Department of Sociology University of Chicago

Gail Honda is author of “Differential Structure, Differential Health: Industrialization in Japan 1868-1940,” in the forthcoming book, Health and Welfare during Industrialization (University of Chicago Press), edited by Richard Steckel and Roderick Floud. In August 1997, she will move to the Department of History at the University of Hawaii where she will teach Japanese history and continue her research on economic development and health.

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Subject(s):Social and Cultural History, including Race, Ethnicity and Gender
Geographic Area(s):Asia
Time Period(s):19th Century

Small Firms in the Japanese Economy

Author(s):Whittaker, D. H.
Reviewer(s):Blackford, Mansel G.

EH.NET BOOK REVIEW

Published by H-BUSINESS (July 1997)

D. H. Whittaker, Small firms in the Japanese Economy. Cambridge and New York: Cambridge University Press, 1997. xii + 238 pp. ISBN: 0-521-58152-4

Reviewed for EH.Net by Mansel G. Blackford, Department of History, The Ohio State University. (blackford.1@osu.edu)

This densely packed volume is a very valuable contribution to our growing, but still limited, knowledge of small manufacturing firms in Japan. Whittaker examines the historical evolution and recent operations of small manufacturers in the Ota Ward of Tokyo, one of Japan’s leading industrial districts. Throughout his account Whittaker compares the companies of Ota Ward to the development of small manufacturers elsewhere in Japan; and in his penultimate chapter Whittaker, a Lecturer in Japanese Studies and Senior Tutor at the University of Cambridge, offers a revealing comparison of what has taken place in the Ota Ward to the development of small manufacturers in Birmingham, the United Kingdom.

In his first three chapters Whittaker presents a broad overview of how Japanese policymakers have looked upon small manufacturers, the formation of industrial districts in Japan, and the historical contribution of small industrial firms to Japan’s economic ascent. Whittaker succinctly relates the development of small industrial firms from the time of the Meiji Restoration of 1868 into the post-World-War-II period, carefully delineating fluctuations in that development to the growth of larger manufacturing firms. His balanced account calls into question facile assumptions sometimes made about the development of a dual economy in Japan. Small industrialists, Whittaker observes, have remained very important in recent decades. The world of small and medium-sized firms or SMEs (those employing no more than 300 workers), he asserts, is “every bit as representative of modern Japan as that of large firms” (p. 3). SMEs, Whittaker points out, accounted for just under three-quarters of Japan’s manufacturing employment and over half of its industrial output in 1993. Nor are most SMEs simply subcontractors for larger firms; in fact, over 40 percent do not subcontract at all. Instead, most SMEs have been, and remain, Whittaker shows, independent enterprises horizontally linked in industrial districts (Whittaker looks especially at the historical evolution of such districts in Gunma and Nagano Prefectures). Even so, governmental officials, Whittaker notes, long denigrated SMEs as archaic holdovers from feudal times, only very recently coming to see them as possible engines of economic growth.

Following his overview, Whittaker turns to a close examination of small firms (those with fewer than seventy employees, and usually with no more than twenty) and medium-sized companies (those with seventy to eighty employees) in machine industries (metal products, machinery making and equipment, transportation equipment, electrical machinery, and precision equipment) in Tokyo’s Ota Ward. Whittaker derived information about the firms from a wide variety of surveys, reports, articles, and his own interviews with the owners and workers in twenty of the businesses (he conducted the interviews between 1989 and 1995, visiting most of the businesses at least twice, once at the height of Japan’s “bubble” boom and once during the recession following its collapse). What emerges is a compelling picture of small manufacturing companies in present-day Japan and, in addition, useful insights into fundamental changes occurring in Japan’s economy. Whittaker takes a topical approach to his subject, devoting separate chapters to discrete issues.

Chapter 4 surveys the industrial development of Ota Ward, an area of fifty-four square kilometers in which 40,000 businesses employed 350,000 people in the early 1990s. From modest beginnings in the Meiji era, Ota Ward became one of Japan’s leading industrial districts during the interwar years and then especially after World War II. As large firms moved out of the ward in search of more land and workers in the 1970s and 1980s, small firms became even more important than they had earlier been. The number of factories in the ward peaked at 9,190 in 1983, declining to 7,160 a decade later. Most of these were small: only one-tenth had more than twenty employees in 1990, down from one-third thirty years earlier. Despite recent problems (dealt with in a later chapter), Ota Ward remains, Whittaker concludes, a viable entity: “The combination of flexibility and specialization within individual firms (as well as across firms) has in turn endowed the district with a flexibility, durability, and adaptability, as well as an upgrading dynamic” (p. 74).

Chapters 5 and 6 look at ties linking Ota Ward’s small industrialists with larger manufacturers in vertical subcontracting arrangements and, even more importantly, varied horizontal webs connecting the ward’s small companies to each other. Subcontracting, Whittaker shows, entails more than the exploitation of small firms by large ones. To be sure, elements of exploitation exist, but in many cases “the line between cooperation and coercion may be a fine one” (p. 90). Becoming increasing significant in the 1990s are horizontal ties–often very informal connections–of all sorts between Ota Ward’s small industrialists, creating some sense of community among them. One of the great strengths of this book is how Whittaker carefully explores those ties, a major contribution to an understanding of how work flows from firm to firm in industrial districts. Chapters 5 and 6 will be of special value for scholars interested in the dynamics of industrial district development. Upon reading them, I was struck by some similarities to the development of industrial districts in the United States, as described by Philip Scranton.

Chapters 7 and 8, by contrast, peer inside the small industrial firms to understand their internal dynamics. Whittaker is able to uncover the motivations of the founders of the small manufacturing firms, finding “a type of individualism at odds with the normal groupist image of Japanese society and industry” and a type of entrepreneurship that “is not of a swashbuckling, high-risk-high-return nature” but, is, rather, “craft or productionist” oriented (p. 127). Here, I was reminded very much of James Soltow’s findings about machinery makers and metal workers in New England. Innovative and skilled, the founders of Ota’s small industrial firms and their workers–many of whom went on to start their own firms–are, Whittaker finds, a dying breed. As these founders retire, few members of the current generation are taking over the helms of the small manufacturers. Disliking the long hours and hard work, the sons and daughters are turning to other pursuits, (as are the offspring of employees in the firms for similar reasons), leading to more small business closures than start-ups, and bringing into question the future of small industrial firms in Ota Ward and elsewhere in Japan.

In Chapter 9 Whittaker discusses the impacts of national and regional governmental policies upon Ota’s businesses and the involvement of the businesses in formulating those policies. He concludes that on balance “government support for SMEs is significant,” especially in the realm of financing, but that “the primary reason for the survival and upgrading of small firms in Ota and in Japan has been their own efforts” (p. 165).

Chapter 10 presents a comparative look at the development and present-day activities of small industrial firms in Birmingham. While small businesses in Birmingham and Ota Ward were similar in some ways, they shared different fates, with Birmingham’s “fall being spectacular” (p. 182). Misguided government policies, an unwillingness of workers to change their ways, mergers creating inefficient big businesses, and excessive competition among small firms are the salient factors cited by Whittaker for Birmingham’s industrial decline.

In Chapter 11 Whittaker directly addresses the issue of whether or not small industrial firms can be a prime source of economic revival in present-day Japan. Whittaker is no cheer leader for small business. In a balanced analysis, he concludes that both large and small companies will continue to play important roles in the future: “For better or for worse, large companies and their offspring will remain key players in Japan’s economy in the foreseeable future, even if their contribution to economic growth is muted. Rather than wishing them away, an important question will be what types of relationships can small, entrepreneurial firms forge with them” (p. 212).

Both scholars and policymakers can profit from reading this book. Historians, political scientists, and economists will benefit from this detailed look at the evolution and present-day operations of one of Japan’s leading industrial districts. Whittaker’s account is the most valuable analysis of small business in Japan currently available in English, complementing and going beyond David Friedman’s analysis of Sakaki and providing both more depth and breadth than Penelope Franck’s survey of small business development across the nation. Policymakers will learn a great deal about the effectiveness and lack of effectiveness of the Japanese government’s efforts to nurture small business development. In short, Small firms in the Japanese Economy is a sophisticated account which I hope will find a large audience.

Mansel G. Blackford Department of History The Ohio State University

Mansel Blackford is the author of A History of Small Business in America (New York: Twayne Publishers, 1991); and The Rise of Modern Business in Great Britain, the United States and Japan (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1988, second edition in preparation).

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Subject(s):Business History
Geographic Area(s):Asia
Time Period(s):20th Century: WWII and post-WWII

The Worst Tax? A History of the Property Tax in America

Author(s):Fisher, Glenn
Reviewer(s):Wallis, John Joseph

EH.NET BOOK REVIEW

Published by EH.NET (June 1997)

Glenn W. Fisher, The Worst Tax? A History of the Property Tax in America. Lawrence, KS: University Press of Kansas, 1996. x + 244 pp. $35.00 (cloth), ISBN: 0700607536

Reviewed for EH.NET by John Joseph Wallis, Department of Economics, University of Maryland.

From the question mark in the title one might expect that this book would try to answer the question: is the property tax a good or a bad tax? And from the remainder of the title one might expect a general history of the property tax throughout the nation and throughout the nation’s history. This very interesting book does not deliver on either of the implicit promises in its title, but it is worth a closer look in any event.

Fisher begins with a general discussion of the property tax and fiscal policy in late 18th and early 19th century America. The focus then shifts to Kansas. An intensive study of the property tax in Kansas makes up the bulk of the book. In the last chapter and conclusion, the discussion shifts back to more general questions and a wider focus.

It is hard to fault the approach, however, since there is no “American property tax,” there are only property taxes in the individual states and, as Fisher makes clear, there are really thousands of local property taxes administered under an umbrella of state supervision. The nature of state administration varies widely from state to state and over time. Making generalizations is, as a result, a hazardous business.

Fisher focuses on the implication of two common changes in the property tax structure in the middle part of the 19th century, and, by example, how those changes played out in Kansas. These are constitutional or legislative provisions mandating uniformity and universality in property taxation. Uniformity means that all property that is liable to the tax is taxed at a uniform rate. Universality means that all valuable property in the state is subject to taxation. Uniformity combined with universality implies that all property in a state, tangible and intangible, land, buildings, inventories, animals, equipment, etc. must be assessed and taxed at the same rate.

Uniformity and universality are important both as a reflection of the political climate of the mid-19th century, and for the confusion and difficulties they ultimately created in the administration of the property tax. After the debt crisis of the early 1840s, when state governments began moving toward rather than away from the property tax as their main source of revenue, the property tax became the fiscal mainstay of both state and local governments. It was at that point that uniformity and universality provisions were widely enacted as reform measures. The essential idea behind them was that the wealthy and the privileged escaped property taxation through unfair assessment (uniformity) and their ability to transform their wealth into untaxed assets (universality).

The reforms opened up another can of worms, perhaps one bigger than the universe. For uniformity and universality to work, there had to be a system of state-wide assessment on all property. In most states, assessment was a function of local governments with some state cooperation and supervision. Full implementation of the reforms would have required complete centralization of the revenue system at the state level, which nobody wanted. This federalism issue was further complicated by the intractable difficulties in assessing many types of intangible property.

Ultimately, the general uniform and universal property tax was replaced by a more specific and well defined property tax, which in most states became a tax on real estate. The real estate tax was easier to define and administer and easier to equalize across local governments, although it is still plagued with problems of assessment. The change occurred in the 20th century at the same time that state governments were moving away from property taxes towards sales and income taxes. The shift was underway before the 1930s, picked up speed during the depression, and was complete by the middle years of the 20th century. Today, state governments collect a very small share of property taxes and property taxes are a very small share of total state revenues.

Fisher’s study illuminates clearly how these forces were at work in Kansas. Whether Kansas accurately mirrors what happened in other states it unclear. This book makes an important step in the right direction. It awaits another 40 or so similar studies on property taxation in other states.

John Joseph Wallis Department of Economics University of Maryland

John Wallis is a student of the history of America. Recent publications include (with Jac Heckelman) “Railroads and Property Taxes,” Explorations in Economic History, 34 (1), January 1997; “The Impact of the New Deal on American Federalism,” (with Wallace Oates), forthcoming in The Defining Moment, Michael Bordo, Claudia Goldin, and Eugene White, editors, NBER, University of Chicago Press; “Early American Federalism and Economic Development, 1790-1840,” Public Finance and Environmental Economics: Essays in Honor of Wallace E. Oates, Robert Schwab, editor, forthcoming, Edward Elgar.

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Subject(s):Government, Law and Regulation, Public Finance
Geographic Area(s):North America
Time Period(s):19th Century

The Dynamic Society: Exploring the Sources of Global Change

Author(s):Snooks, Graeme Donald
Reviewer(s):Clark, Gregory

Graeme Donald Snooks, The Dynamic Society: Exploring the Sources of Global Change. New York and London: Routledge, 1996. xvii + 491 pp. $84.95 (cloth), ISBN: 0415137306. $24.95 (paper), ISBN: 0415137314.

Reviewed for EH.Net by Gregory Clark, Department of Economics, University of California- Davis .

For most of the time in any discipline the mundane dominates, and the subject seems to advance at a glacial pace. Old disputes are chewed over, small concessions gained and conceded. There are no sweeping visions, no sustained programs of discovery. The subject is maintained almost as much by institutional inertia as by intellectual passion. Economic history in the eyes of many is firmly stuck on just such hard and unyielding terrain. No one has published a paper yet entitled “The Heights of Norwegians Inferred from a Sample of 23 File Clerks, 1906-1908: A Quantile Bend Estimate,” but given enough time they will.

There is thus always an incipient demand for bolder conjectures, for the big idea that can inject excitement and remake the subject. But pursuing the big idea, seductive as it is, has its dangers. The big idea is inevitably at the beginning ill-formed, and weakly supported. Thus those who venture the big idea need strong egos and selective blindness – they have to withstand the carping of the Lilliputians, and the rejection of the journal referees. But at the same time the ego cannot be too strong, the vision too selective. Therein lies a kind of madness. The innovator has to be able to respond to criticism, but not be overwhelmed by it, to connect with the audience yet not become its servant. The pursuer of the big idea has to walk the thin line between hearing too well and being deaf to reason.

It was thus with some trepidation that I read early in Graeme Snooks’ new book “we need a simple but robust model that can explain the emergence and development of life over the last 4 billion years” (p. 7). It was with even more fear that I noted at the end of the book on page 431 a ten page glossary of “Snookspeak,” including “great linear waves of economic change,” “existential models,” “funnel of transformation,” “strategic- crisis hypothesis” – the new language we need to express the “simple but robust” theory. There was going to be no middle ground for the reviewer of this book – no “a solid contribution to the literature on developments in animal husbandry, which perhaps focuses a little too much on sheep.” Snooks has reached for the big prize. He is either an innovative visionary, or he has crossed over the line into self delusion. For what Snooks attempts in this book, aided only by pen, paper and frequent trips to the glossary, is to produce a theory of life that encompasses and surpasses all of economics, biology, history, psychology, and sociology. To raise the stakes even further this improbable concoction is emblazoned with warm commendations from no less than Douglass North, Nobel Laureate, Baron Herman van der Wee, and Stanley Engerman.

What is Snooks’ new post-Darwinian theory of life and everything? There is at maximum one person who knows, and if he does know, he is unable to communicate it. This is not a case where I can outline the theory, and then ask how well it corresponds to what we know. What the theory is is the central mystery. For example, the theory, Snooks states, employs existential as opposed to deductive models.

“Existential models are empirical models of reality – or models of existence – and can be contrasted with the logical or deductive models of physics and economics, which are merely constructs of the mind….As existential models are based upon dynamic timescapes, they can liberate us from the limitations of deductive thought. They set free the imagination to range over the actual patterns of existence. And in these patterns we can see the dynamic processes of reality” (pp. 433-4).

In California we have many examples of people liberated from the limitations of deductive thought, and often they too have important ideas they need to tell us. So it turns out that Snooks not only wants to rewrite the history of the last 4 billion years, he also, en passant, is introducing entirely new modes of thought, which should, maybe after some refinement, be able to effect a substantial reformation of the physical sciences.

The above example is the book at maximum wackiness. There are many parts, even whole pages, where the exposition is clear: the discussions of crustal formation (yes, the crust of the earth), Hitler’s aims (irrational), the oxygen content of the atmosphere, aggression in men and women (as evidenced by auto accidents), the walls of Jericho, blue-green algae, Henry Thomas Buckle (1821-1862), sea level changes, the Holy Roman Empire, post Keynesians, the ice age, linear time, volcanic eruptions, the nuclear family, Frederick Nietzsche, Joel Mokyr, dinosaurs, dolphins, and the Domesday Book, to name a few examples. The only problem is what the connection of the episode at issue is to the big idea. I know the theory is dynamic, which is why the front cover has charging horses on it, whereas Darwin was static. Dynamism is everywhere – more than one page of the index alone is devoted to dynamism in all its varieties, including “dynamics of the earth: formation of crust.” Change we learn occurs because of dynamism. I also learned that the theory is “economic,” and that it involves “paradigm shifts,” but the theory itself remains hidden from the view of a reviewer trapped in the prison of deductive logic.

To take a specific example, Snooks argues, with some persuasion to someone whose knowledge of the subject is limited to the New York Times, that the attempt by many scientists to explain the extinction of dinosaurs by natural catastrophes is unconvincing. But what is Snooks’ alternative explanation? Dinosaurs were doomed, he assures us, by “having exhausted their dynamic strategies” and further dinosaurs “suffered from over-expansion owing to the exhaustion of their dynamic opportunities” (pp. 77-78). And that’s it. With those trenchant observations, Snooks having dispatched the dinosaur issue between pages 76 and 78 as rapidly as an asteroid impact, marches quickly on to tackle the bigger problems. The survival of some organisms, largely unchanged, from long before the era of the dinosaurs is, I presume, because they did not exhaust their dynamic opportunities to not change. Aristotle, who claimed that objects fell towards the earth because it was in their nature to fall, looks like a model of positivist science compared to Snooks.

Another example, closer to the workaday concerns of economic historians, is “technology as a dominant dynamic strategy.”

“The technological paradigm shift is a widespread human response – occurring in both the Old and New Worlds – to critical episodes in the relationship between population and natural resources owing to the exhaustion of the prevailing technological paradigm. A paradigm shift involves a technological transformation that provides, in a relatively short space of time – when looking forwards rather than backwards – a quantum leap in access to the resources of a niggardly natural world” (pp. 239-240).

Leaving aside the interesting metaphysical claims about time, what is the content of this view? Snooks claims there have been only three technological paradigm shifts: the shift from scavenging to hunting in the Paleolithic, the shift from hunting to agriculture in the Neolithic, and the shift from agriculture to industry in eighteenth century England. He argues that each shift is created by changes in relative factor prices. Now of course, for the first two shifts we know nothing of factor prices. Indeed, again based only on the authority of the New York Times, it has just been discovered that the shift from scavenging to hunting occurred about 100,000 years ago, much earlier than previously thought. Does this matter to Snook’s theory? Not as far as I can tell. When the shift occurred it was undoubtedly the result of population pressure and a stagnant scavenging technological paradigm.

So the only paradigm shift for which we have any evidence on relative scarcities is the Industrial Revolution, the cause of which was “with the growing pressure of population on natural resources, as the old technological paradigm was progressively exhausted, came a rise in prices: of natural resources relative to labour; of labour relative to capital; and of organic relative to inorganic natural resource” (p. 265). This claim is at least clear, but is both theoretically and empirically implausible. Why should population pressure raise the price of labor relative to capital? Why didn’t population pressure in the high middle ages spark an Industrial Revolution? Why wasn’t the Industrial Revolution in China? And empirically the substitution of inorganic for organic resources in Britain before 1850 was a trivial element of the Industrial Revolution, as the work of von Tunzelman, McCloskey, and Crafts clearly shows. But as with the demise of the dinosaurs, Snooks can only allocate about three pages of the book to his discoveries about the Industrial Revolution paradigm shift before he has to rush on to bigger things.

I could go on, but this is enough to convey the point. As we go about the mundane tasks of economic history, trying to prise the occasional nugget of knowledge from hard and stony ground, I am sure we will hear periodically from Graeme Snooks. He will come zooming past, gesticulating wildly and shouting excitedly about new marvelous discoveries made from the comfort of his armchair: discoveries that only he, and possibly Doug North, Herman van der Wee and Stan Engerman, can see and share.

Gregory Clark Department of Economics University of California- Davis

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Subject(s):History of Technology, including Technological Change
Geographic Area(s):General, International, or Comparative
Time Period(s):General or Comparative

Economics and the Historian

Author(s):Rawski, Thomas G.
Reviewer(s):Kiesling, Lynne

Thomas G. Rawski, ed., Economics and the Historian. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1996. xiv + 297 pp. Bibliography and index. $45.00 (cloth), ISBN 0-520-07268-5; $17.00 (paper), ISBN 0-520-07269-3.

Reviewed for EH.Net by Lynne Kiesling, College of William and Mary

Economic historians fill a peculiar, and sometimes uncomfortable, intellectual gap in the social sciences. In an ever-fracturing and increasingly compartmentalized scholarly environment, the economic historian may not find a welcoming, collegial home with either historians or economists; the notion of a truly interdisciplinary analysis is more rhetoric than reality for many scholars.

This volume of essays seeks to bridge the gap in the direction of historians. Arguing that economic analysis contributes a useful set of tools to historical scholarship, the eight economic historians writing these essays attempt to negate the stereotype of economic analysis as false quantification and so much mathematical esoterica. These chapters are well written, tightly argued, and should be of value both to the historian looking to learn more about the economic approach to history and to the economist looking for a clear presentation of the general methodological foundations of “historical economics.”

In his introductory chapter Thomas Rawski starts by observing how pervasive economic factors are, and were, in everyday situations, and that economists and historians ignoring each other is a two-way street:

“Even if man does not live by bread alone, economics lurks beneath the surface of any historical inquiry. The economist who hesitates to peek outside the confines of his models can overlook cultural influences on markets. Likewise the historian of labor, of agriculture, of trade policy, of elite politics, of the church, of international conflict, of the arts, of migration, ideas, industrialization, universities, technology, demography, or crime ignores the economic approach at the risk of losing important lines of explanation” (p. 1).

After noting the apparent enthusiasm of economists for the benefits of history, Rawski goes on to discuss briefly the ideas underlying basic economic models; by doing so he lays a foundation of understanding in the reader for the more sophisticated analyses presented in the subsequent chapters.

Rawski also wrote the second chapter, in which he discusses the analysis of economic trends. Historical analysis is especially suited to studying long-term changes in factors such as “economic welfare, distribution of income and wealth, degree of commercialization, patterns of cropping, organization of economic activity, [and] significance and functioning of various economic institutions” (p. 15). Getting to the heart of a common misperception that historians often hold concerning economic modeling, Rawski clearly points out that examining long-term changes in such factors is meaningless without putting the trend in its relevant economic context. Rawski then refers to the most common way to explore aggregate trends across time and across countries, national income accounts, and briefly explores the three areas of economic activity that national income accounts miss: household production, underground activity, and unrecorded costs. However, when we look at broad trends we are looking for general tendencies across time, and national income accounts give us an imperfect, but rather consistent, indication of these tendencies or trends. After a useful explanation of how national income accounts are derived, on both the expenditure and the output sides, Rawski also examines economic cycles and trends within them.

Jon Cohen then provides an interesting discussion of the role of institutions in economic analysis, a currently fruitful area of research in some fields of economics. Cohen defines institutions as “efficient ways of organizing human activity where markets alone will not suffice” (p. 60), such as the firm or the family. In the most basic, most restricted economic model of human behavior, all resources in the economy find their highest value use through the market, without any need for relationships beyond those stemming from market activity. Clearly, this simplistic model abstracts too far from the real relationships of life, all of which do have some economic component (even friendship does–when we spend time with friends and do things for and with them, we forego opportunities to do other things that might also be of value to us). Cohen focuses on the family, the farm, and the firm as institutions that work in conjunction with the market, in a more realistic model of human behavior. In the course of discussing why such institutions exist and what benefits they provide, Cohen highlights the property rights literature building on Coase’s work analyzing the existence of the firm.

Exploring labor economics and labor history, Susan Carter and Stephen Cullenberg creatively construct a dialogue between “Clio” and “Hades,” two professors of history and economics, respectively, on the relative merits of their methodologies. They first discuss social norms and market forces as determinants of female labor-force participation, subsequently covering the individual choice between work and leisure as the basis for most economic models of labor. Carter and Cullenberg reinforce what I perceive as the essential elements of this book: economic models are tools, nothing more, but they are useful tools because they may highlight relationships that might otherwise not have been obvious; these tools, as well as the tools of historical analysis, need to be used in context.

The fourth chapter, written by Donald McCloskey, focuses on the basic model of neoclassical economics and its emphasis on choice. Because economists emphasize resource scarcity, they look at human behavior in the context of individuals making choices facing a set of alternatives. McCloskey argues that (neoclassical, but I would argue all) economists “would urge the historian not to jump hastily to a diagnosis that peasants follow their plows by custom alone or that traders trust each other on grounds of solidarity alone…. Neoclassical economics, in other words, completes sociology and anthropology, because it studies a motivation unattractive to those fields: choice under constraint” (p. 123). Choice transcends markets and permeates nonmarket institutions, as Cohen’s chapter suggested. McCloskey’s articulation of the choice basis of economics also enables him to address a common misperception of economics–economics is not about money alone. Choices made and profits garnered need not be pecuniary. This focus on choice complements other historical approaches emphasizing, for example, culture.

Richard Sutch’s chapter provides a concise survey of macroeconomics, peppered with historical examples that highlight some benefits of aggregate economic analysis. He concludes that thinking in terms of a macroeconomic approach could be useful to the historian, even if he or she is not using aggregate economic data. Sutch clears up another problem area for non-economists–what exactly are inflation and unemployment, and how can we tell if they are present in our historical situation? Sutch also addresses the potential pitfalls of aggregation, fruitfully discussing the benefits of, for example, micro studies of real wages in 1830s Britain by region and by occupation, but reminding the reader not to commit the fallacy of composition. Just because handloom weavers in Lancashire suffered large declines in their incomes does not mean that all British workers fared poorly during the 1830s. Sutch also uses the tools of macroeconomic analysis to understand wartime destruction and postwar economic activity after the Civil War and World War II.

Next Hugh Rockoff tackles the thorny topic of money, banking and inflation. He structures his discussion as the tale of the development of money in a hypothetical economy, using examples from history to illustrate issues that arise as an economy becomes more commercial. He starts in medieval times with a gold-based money, moving on to explain how new discoveries of gold caused inflation. His subsequent explanation of the quantity theory of money and Hume’s price-specie flow mechanism is valuable to non-monetary economists as well as to historians interested in monetary history. Rockoff then discusses the rise of banking, usually starting with individuals “depositing” gold coins with their local goldsmith for safekeeping. As goldsmiths discovered that not everyone wanted all of their money back at the same time, they found that they could make money by lending out some of the deposits they held: thus the birth of fractional reserve banking. This development also meant that the goldsmith had an incentive to pay the depositor interest on his deposit, thereby creating a dimension on which goldsmiths compete for business. Rockoff also explores banking panics, fiat money and central banking, which require more sophisticated economic models and some attention to institutional detail.

The final chapter, by Peter Lindert, highlights the role of international economics in understanding the evolution of trade relationships through history. In the context of discussing international relations, Lindert emphasizes one of the basic tenets of economics–trade creates value, and both parties benefit. But that value is not distributed equally among the trading partners, and Lindert addresses the implications of that fact in terms of the development of trade restrictions (tariffs and quotas) and the evolution of trading relationships. In the final section of his chapter Lindert provides a discussion of the determination of exchange rates that I found extremely valuable, and much clearer than any other I’ve seen on the subject.

Every chapter in this collection provides valuable insights on the use of economic logic and modeling in explaining historical phenomena. I sensed no condescension from the authors toward the methodology of the historians among their readers; I sensed only respect and appreciation for good economic methodology, and an interest in sharing that enthusiasm with historian colleagues.

Lynne Kiesling Department of Economics College of William and Mary

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Subject(s):Development of the Economic History Discipline: Historiography; Sources and Methods
Geographic Area(s):General, International, or Comparative
Time Period(s):General or Comparative

The Evolution of International Business: An Introduction

Author(s):Jones, Geoffrey
Reviewer(s):Taylor, Graham D.

H-NET BOOK REVIEW Published by H-Business@cs.muohio.edu (July 1996)

Geoffrey Jones, The Evolution of International Business: An Introduction . London and New York: Routledge, 1996. xii + 360 pp. Bibliographical references and index. Cloth, ISBN 0-415-10775-X; paper, ISBN 0-415-09371-6.

Reviewed for H-Business by Graham D. Taylor, Professor of History/Dean of Arts and Social Sciences, Dalhousie University, Halifax, Nova Scotia

During the 1960s multinational enterprises emerged as a focus of interest (and much controversy) both for economists and for the general public. Much of the literature of that era (leaving aside the important pioneering works of Raymond Vernon, Charles Kindleberger, and John Dunning) provided a very time-bound perspective on this phenomenon. Economists tended to treat multinationals as byproducts of post-World War II international financial integration and improvements in communications and transport technologies. To the broader public, in the United States and elsewhere, they were associated with U.S. economic expansion and indeed were perceived as reflecting a particularly “American” form of business organization.

Since that era, the international economy has changed dramatically: multinational enterprises became truly “multinational” as East Asian and European firms expanded (or, perhaps more properly in many instances, reappeared) in global markets and new cross-national “strategic partnerships” of firms emerged. During the same period, the historiography of multinational enterprise was vastly enriched by scholars such as Mira Wilkins, D. K. Fieldhouse, Peter Hertner, Shin’ichiYonekawa, and many others, who not only probed well into the pre-twentieth-century origins of multinational activities, but also linked their work with broader reinterpretations of the dynamics of business evolution and organization.

Geoffrey Jones has been very much a part of that international community of scholarship on multinationals, and in this book he has undertaken to synthesize that literature. Jones far too modestly designates the study as a “text book” or “introductory survey.” It is in fact a substantial contribution to our understanding of the historical significance of multinational business, broadly defined to encompass more than the conventional category of “foreign direct investment” (FDI). His book provides a needed overview of the global dimensions of this phenomenon and a coherent framework for analysis of major historical trends and central issues emerging from the literature.

Jones’s study opens with a review of the major interpretive approaches to analyzing multinationals, including concepts of ownership advantage, internalization/transaction cost, and Dunning’s “eclectic model,” all of which are well integrated into the historical chapters that follow. He also links the study of multinational evolution to the themes of organizational development associated with Alfred Chandler and the literature on the firm and national competitiveness.

This section is followed by a general overview of the major trends in multinational operations since the mid-nineteenth century, highlighting the distinctiveness of different periods in that evolution (1880-1914; the interwar period; the 1940s to 1960s; and the period since 1971). This periodization indicates both the continuities of growth of international business and the volatility of that history, reflecting shifts in external factors (“the business environment,” encompassing the impact of wars, shifts in global trade and monetary arrangements, nationalizations and other governmental regulatory measures) and consequent changes in the strategies of firms.

The next chapters review the role of multinationals in specific industrial sectors: natural resources, manufacturing and services. There is a certain degree of repetition in these sections, as Jones works through each period for the different sectors. But it is also clear that very different patterns can be discerned in the forms and motivations underlying international direct investment in each sector, as well as in the internal dynamics of firm organization, relations among firms, and between multinationals and governments.

The final chapters focus on particular issues that have emerged in the literature. These include: the variations among nations and cultures in the propensity of their business enterprises to engage in foreign investment; the relationship between foreign direct investment and economic development, in terms of both home economies (of the multinationals) and host economies; and the relationships of multinationals and governments.

Despite its relative brevity, this is a dense book that covers a wide range of topics relating to the history and theory of multinational business, each in a balanced but succinct manner. Consequently, it would be an oversimplification to suggest that it embraces a particular set of themes or line of argument. But there are certain general characteristics of the history that emerge from the study.

From the late nineteenth to well into the twentieth century, most foreign direct investment was focused on the development of natural resources, with some spinoff growth of ancillary services. Latin America and Asia were particularly notable recipients of this investment. FDI in manufacturing expanded slowly through the early twentieth century and more dramatically in the period after World War II, and the geographic center for such investment shifted to Western Europe. This trend in turn was overtaken by developments in the service sector (particularly in finance) in the past two decades, with East Asia and Western Europe, along with the United States, as major areas of investment activity.

Although there have been periods of single-country dominance in outward investment (the United Kingdom between the 1880s and 1914, and the United States in the 1950s and 1960s), perhaps more significant has been the consistent growth of multinational operations over the past century. As noted earlier, Jones’s approach embraces a range of international business activities. During the pre-World War I era, investment flows were tied to some extent to the “imperial” territories of various European nations (with regions such as Latin America becoming a battleground for European and American investors), and occurred through a peculiar (and primarily British) form called “free-standing companies” (local enterprises owned by foreign syndicates) as well as the more familiar home-and-branch operations.

In the interwar period, as national governments imposed a variety of constraints on international trade and capital flows, international cartels flourished, in part as a means of circumventing them. In the period since the 1970s, a new form of “strategic partnership” among firms of different nationalities has emerged, reflecting both the diverse origins of enterprises in global markets and the effects of financial integration coupled with the growth of regional trade blocs. In each era multinational businesses have altered their forms of operation to suit contemporary conditions, while sustaining a general trend toward growth and integration.

The strength of the book lies in its coherence, its ability to provide a clear framework for a complex process of development over a fairly long time-span. Some of this coherence might have been lost had Jones extended his analysis even further back in time, but it might have been a useful exercise to provide a broader historical perspective on the evolution of international business (as opposed to the evolution of multinational enterprise). Jones does devote a section of his chapter on “Multinationals and Services” to a discussion of the large international trading companies of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries; but generally he focuses on the period after 1880, with an emphasis on improvements in technology (enhancing the internal management of firms in international markets) and financial integration, accompanied by nationalistic trade policies, in shaping a business environment congenial to multinationals.

But, as studies by Larry Neal (on international capital markets), James Tracy and Jonathan Israel (on the Dutch and British “merchant empires”), and Ann Carlos and Steve Nicholas (on the internal organization of trade companies) indicate, by the eighteenth century the international economy had developed strong financial and logistical links, and businesses such as the Hudson’s Bay Company and the East India companies were developing mechanisms for internal communication and management.

Jones’s chapter on multinationals and natural resources understandably gives pride of place to the “nonrenewable” resource sector (mining and petroleum) and does not ignore the “renewable” area. But a review of multinationals in the forest products industry could reinforce some of the points he makes in other contexts. As a capital-intensive industry, forest products (especially pulp and paper) has been a field with a number of multinational actors, such as the British firm Bowater, the Swedish Stora, the U.S. Weyerhaeuser, and Canada’s MacMillian-Bloedel. The intricate links between publishing companies and paper manufacturers in international markets provide another interesting feature of this industry, ranging from direct-investment ventures (such as the Chicago Tribune‘s Canadian pulpmills) to Bowater’s “strategic partnerships” in the 1920s-1940s (not without endless friction) with the British newspaper barons, Rothermere and Beaverbrook, to exploit the forestry resources of North America.

These are minor caveats, however, and do not detract from the general quality and significance of Jones’s study. As noted earlier, the book represents a well-organized synthesis of the state of the historiography of international business today, which at the same time can provide a basis for future research in the field, by identifying major lines of argument and the areas of uncertainty and controversy that still must be addressed.

Graham D. Taylor Dalhousie University

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Subject(s):Business History
Geographic Area(s):General, International, or Comparative
Time Period(s):20th Century: WWII and post-WWII

Who’s In Charge? Workers and Managers in the United States

Author(s):Liebhold, Peter
Rubenstein, Harry
Reviewer(s):Lichtenstein, Nelson

An Exhibit Review

WHO’S IN CHARGE?: WORKERS AND MANAGERS IN THE UNITED STATES February 10, 1996 – April 7, 1996 An Exhibit at the National Museum of American History Washington, D.C.

Reviewed by Nelson Lichtenstein for H-BUSINESS, March 1996 University of Virginia nnl3w@darwin.clas.virginia.edu

Smithsonian curators Harry Rubenstein and Peter Liebhold have braved the chilly ideological winds blowing across the Mall to mount this timely and provocative traveling exhibition in the National Museum of American History. The space devoted to the exhibition is relatively small, but the subject is huge: nothing less than a class analysis of the labor process from the nineteenth century industrial era to the contemporary world of computer consoles and just-in-time production techniques.

Rubenstein and Liebhold have assembled some striking artifacts: an ominous set of nineteenth-century iron gates from the Bobson Textile Mills of Philadelphia, which guards the exhibit entrance; a set of the wooden tobacco molds that did so much to deskill turn-of-the-century cigar workers; an early set of time and motion sheets, with stopwatch, used by Frank and Lillian Gilbreth; and a contemporary keyboard from a McDonalds cash register, upon which the dollars and cents numbers have been replaced by “words” like FUDG SUND.

This traveling exhibit, on display at the NMAH through April 7, is well grounded in the spirit of Harry Braverman, perhaps far too much so. Indeed, its first third is an unrelenting exposition of the ideology and praxis of nineteenth-century industrial management, whose quest for industrial hegemony through workplace regimentation and deskilling is starkly explicated. Given the calculated ignorance of the rest of the museum world on this subject, the creators of “Who’s In Charge?” deserve our considerable gratitude, but there is a heavy-handed didacticism here that is most off-putting. No panel invokes the resources upon which the working class itself mobilized a turn-of-the-century resistance: there’s no hint of the communal, republican world first celebrated by Herbert Gutman, or even of the craftsman’s fierce pride and autonomy so well evoked by David Montgomery and the generation of labor historians who followed his lead. No artifacts from either the Knights of Labor or the Industrial Workers of the World are shown.

Historians of technology will find this early section of the exhibit flat-footed as well: a quotation from Karl Marx–who is identified only as an “economist”–encapsulates both the admirable political boldness and the reductionism of the exhibit: “It would be possible to write a history of inventions … made for the sole purpose of supplying capital with weapons against the revolts of the working class.” Driving home the point is an epigram from Frederick Taylor: “In the past workers have been first. In the future the system must be first.”

A short section on the New Deal and the classic era of mid-century collective bargaining stands at the exhibit’s midpoint. Here the focus shifts rather abruptly to discussions of trade unionism, strikes, and the new labor legislation. All this is important, of course, but the resolute focus on the relationship between workers and their immediate bosses, which was the signal virtue of the exhibit’s first section, is missing. A union contract book, a shop steward’s badge, or an actual seniority list posted on a factory bulletin board might well have exemplified the shift in shop-floor power relations so notable in the New Deal era.

The exhibit’s dramatic final section is dominated by an Andon Board taken right out of the jointly operated Toyota-General Motors assembly plant in Fremont, California. With its blinking red, yellow, and green lights revealing the status of each work station, the Andon Board is the physical embodiment of Japanese just-in-time production techniques. Workers have the formal right to stop the line by pulling a cord–in which case their green light turns first to yellow and then, after a pause, to red–but management has quickly learned to process this worker-generated information on labor intensity to “stress” the line in order to achieve relentlessly higher levels of individual productivity.

This exhibition room also displays a series of wonderful posters and advertisements, touting everything from foreman training and employer-employee unity to the virtues of cheap labor in Haiti and the rest of the Caribbean. Although the advocates of the new “team production” schemes are given their due, this final exhibit space is undoubtedly one of the most forthright critiques of contemporary capitalism to appear at taxpayer expense. The glowing set of tributes to the exhibition that appear in the comment notebooks at the exit demonstrate that, whatever the project’s limitations, Liebhold and Rubenstein have tapped an exposed nerve in the way Americans feel about the contemporary world of work.

Nelson Lichtenstein nnl3w@darwin.clas.virginia.edu

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Subject(s):Labor and Employment History
Geographic Area(s):North America
Time Period(s):General or Comparative