The activities of commercial wireless companies in the United States before World War I were critical forerunners of the unique system of property rights in the radio spectrum that developed in the United States between 1899 and 1927. These activities formed the basis for commercial claims to property rights in the spectrum during the 1920s, when radio broadcasting developed. The early wireless companies provided the material, institutional, and ideological foundations for commercial rights in the spectrum that are still a striking part of mass communication in the United States today. The De Forest/United Wireless succession of companies, although ultimately business failures, nonetheless laid the groundwork for commercial radio in the United States. Most historians of radio have overlooked the importance of the pre–World War I period, and all have neglected the contribution of the De Forest/United Wireless companies.

Insurance is a business in which trust is the corollary of risk taking. One problem for the insurance industry in eighteenth and early nineteenth-century Britain was how to bridge the gap between the world of business based upon personal trust, and the emergence of new commercial relations where moral hazard was mass produced and where a commanding knowledge of personal reputations was virtually impossible. This paper examines the imperfect methods devised by early life and fire insurance offices to assess both physical and moral hazard and postulates a relationship between the two. The responses to two particular moral hazard “problems” identified by contemporary underwriters–insurance by the Jews and the Irish–are explored.

This article considers key issues relating to the organization and performance of large multinational firms in the post-Second World War period. Although foreign direct investment is defined by ownership and control, in practice the nature of that “control” is far from straightforward. The issue of control is examined, as is the related question of the “stickiness” of knowledge within large international firms. The discussion draws on a case study of the Anglo-Dutch consumer goods manufacturer Unilever, which has been one of the largest direct investors in the United States in the twentieth century. After 1945 Unilever's once successful business in the United States began to decline, yet the parent company maintained an arms-length relationship with its U.S. affiliates, refusing to intervene in their management. Although Unilever “owned” large U.S. businesses, the question of whether it “controlled” them was more debatable.

During World War II, the organization Training Within Industry (TWI) developed programs to help industry cope with the flood of new and unskilled war workers. Guided by representatives of the new profession of personnel management and assisted by university-based social scientists, the organization developed innovative methods of industrial training that drew on both the scientific management tradition and the newer human relations approach fostered by the Hawthorne experiments. The introduction of the human relations approach was severely criticized in the postwar era for its manipulative potential, but the wartime training program on which it wasbased did not exhibit that tendency. Moreover, management, which theoretically should have embraced TWI programs, was unsupportive, and organized labor, which had reason to be suspicious, wasvery responsive. Workplace reform, not the psychological conditioning of workers, drove the TWI programs.

The increase in volume of explosives and other hazardous materials transported by rail during the nineteenth century resulted in a growing number of accidents. In response, the Pennsylvania Railroad developed some of the first regulations governing the transport of such materials. In the twentieth century, a combination of enforcement difficulties and competitive pressures led the company, working through the American Railway Association, to press for industry-wide rules and enforcement, which resulted in the Association's, Bureau of Explosives. Similar motives impelled the carriers to seek federal regulation, which began in 1908. The Interstate Commerce Commission provided the legal authority in this public–private partnership, whilethe bureau took the lead in inspecting shipments, encouraging improvements in shipping techniques, and developing rules that formed the basis of all modern regulations of hazardous shipments.

A review of theories of competition and business strategy over the last half-century reveals a fairly linear development of early work by academics and consultants into efforts to understand the determinants of industry profitability and competitive position and, more recently, to add a time or historical dimension to the analysis. The possible implications of the emergence of a market for such ideas are also discussed.

This article considers key issues relating to the organization and performance of large multinational firms in the post-Second World War period. Although foreign direct investment is defined by ownership and control, in practice the nature of that “control” is far from straightforward. The issue of control is examined, as is the related question of the “stickiness” of knowledge within large international firms. The discussion draws on a case study of the Anglo-Dutch consumer goods manufacturer Unilever, which has been one of the largest direct investors in the United States in the twentieth century. After 1945 Unilever's once successful business in the United States began to decline, yet the parent company maintained an arms-length relationship with its U.S. affiliates, refusing to intervene in their management. Although Unilever “owned” large U.S. businesses, the question of whether it “controlled” them was more debatable.

An 1879 contract between Western Union and Bell partitioned the electrical communications industry between the telegraph and telephone markets. Historians typically view this contract as the start of both Western Union's decline and Bell's rise, and they have treated these as largely separate processes. This article argues instead that these processes were linked by a porous and shifting boundary between the two industries. Legal, technical, and regulatory factors interacted to shape this boundary over the next century. The 1879 contract failed to keep Bell out of long-distance communications, as Bell used its market power, geographic reach, and technological superiority to penetrate this boundary. Throughout much of the twentieth century, federal regulators and Western Union executives attempted to strengthen this divide through regulatory means. The attempt failed because AT&T controlled key telegraph technologies and had considerable market power. While regulators propped up Western Union as the only competitor to AT&T, by the 1960s it was offering only token competition.

This study analyzes the evolution of organizational capabilities for assessing market growth and capital budgeting in the traffic management operations of the Bell System from 1900 to 1929. The initial impetus for developing the complex procedures that were integrated into this process was the need to enhance firm competitiveness, particularly in response to the threats to its survival during the financial panic of 1907. The resultant new organizational capabilities, however, also eventually proved vital in successfully guiding the firm's planning for system automation and in demonstrating compliance with regulatory mandates for efficient and economical service. Moreover, this study explains how probability theory became a key element in this managerial transition, thus, providing the Bell System with a powerful analytical tool useful for confronting uncertainty in budgeting and business planning.

Two British land companies, the Canada Company and the British American Land Company (BALC), were active during the nineteenth century in settling what are now Ontario and the Eastern Townships of Quebec. Both purchased large tracts of land from the British government, with two goals: to provide funds for the governors of Canada and to relieve Britain of its surplus population. The Canada Company worked closely with the government to meet these objectives, whereas BALC indulged in land speculation and made immigration a secondary priority. One was successful, and the other struggled throughout its existence. Their success or failure was the directresult of how well they dealt with both the changing economic climate and the British and Canadian political situation.

The Electric Vehicle Company (EVC) and its affiliated operating entities (1897–1912), along with similar electric taxicab ventures in London and Paris, figured prominently in the early history of the automobile industry. Long dismissed as a quintessential instance of business failure resulting from the choice of inferior technology, the picture of EVC that emerges from new archival evidence suggests a different view. Seen within the continuing electrification of urban transit, traditional centralized approaches to transportation management, and genuine uncertainty about future automotive technology, EVC constituted a significant, if incremental, extension of traditional, service-based concepts of transportation. The goal of the owners of EVC was to offer an integrated, all-electric urban transportation service that included road- and rail-based components. The failure of EVC represented not simply the victory of internal combustion over electric propulsion but also the triumph of a decentralized, product-centered view of mobility, in which individuals owned and operated their own vehicles.

This article explores the contentious U.S. State Department–Foreign Bondholders Protective Council relationship in the context of interwar foreign economic policy and bureaucratic competition. U.S. officials created the council in 1933 to represent the interests of U.S. investors in the settlement of the numerous dollar bond issues that had gone into default. The article shows why the council failed to perform as U.S. officials expected and outlines the process by which they increasingly interposed themselves in debt negotiations. In doing so, it considers the limitations of using private organizations to accomplish the objectives of public policy.

Little has been written about urban property investment in seventeenth-century London. Market norms for investors were developed in a relatively unregulated environment, and in response to surging urban growth. “Pattern books” (manuals of design, measuring, and building) provided information to investors, helping them to evaluate an assorted set of properties. While the methods of investment described in these books were initially rudimentary, there is evidence of increased sophistication in the latter part of the century. The gradual institutionalizing of real estate practices helped to attract the necessary capital to finance London's remarkable physical growth.

The International Business Machines Corporation adapted early on to the opportunities created by the cold war economy in the United States. This account of IBM's adjustment to the circumstances of that time unveils the detailed process by which a firm situated outside the traditional defense industries forged new institutional allegiances between business and government and between science and industry. Beginning in 1949, IBM's Applied Science Department, under the leadership of Cuthbert Hurd, enabled the company to enter new technical markets that had been created by federal research and defense expenditures. But there were also broader consequences to IBM's decision to embrace scientific culture, among them the transformation of its traditional sales and product development strategies in ways that were not indisputably functional.

The Xerox Corporation has devised several strategies for managing the numerous spin-off firms that independently commercialized many of its technologies. From 1979 to 1998, thirty-five technology-based organizations emerged from Xerox's research centers. Contradicting the common perception that Xerox “fumbled the future” by letting its technology walk out the door, in fact the company set in motion a series of deliberate initiatives to manage its spin-off organizations. After initially adopting a laissez-faire approach, the company soon turned to ad hoc methods, which evolved into a formal internal venture capital structure and culminated in a triage process, with the result that only companies perceived by Xerox as fitting into its overall corporate strategy were retained. By using spin-offs to withdraw gracefully from areas it considered to be marginal, Xerox for feited the potential to realize value from their research. Some, but not all, of the spin-offs obtained venture capital financing from outside sources and thus prospered independently. Their success demonstrated the opportunity that Xerox missed in managing its spin-offs.

I want to begin with a question. Why did the historical study of entrepreneurship take such a decidedly “organizational turn” during the 1950s? One might have thought that a Research Center in Entrepreneurial History would have stimulated work on the individual entrepreneur; that it might have encouraged a focus on such questions as exactly why and how individual entrepreneurs created and sustained new businesses.