Winning the war on the home front and overseas meant that citizens of different races, religions, and ethnic appellations needed to work together peacefully in the “arsenal of democracy.” Prior to America's entrance into the war, community leaders recognized that selected social problems must be addressed in order to promote domestic harmony and boost urgently needed defense production in war communities. Instead of viewing the war years as distracting community interest from social problems, social welfare organizations pressed localities to acknowledge and act to alleviate ongoing difficulties that presented themselves, sometimes in dramatic fashion, as serious obstacles to the war effort. Race riots in Harlem and Detroit, the “zoot-suit” struggles on the West Coast, “khaki-wacky” girls who chased after servicemen, the erosion of child labor laws, significant population shifts across the nation, and a record number of teenage dropouts highlighted the structural cracks in American society. Clear understanding of the expedient nature of wartime social work mobilized efforts to establish national and local strategies that would enable wartime programs to continue into the postwar era.

Courts, both state and federal, often play a substantial role in the adoption and implementation of changes in public policy. Properly understood, the impact of court decisions must be examined in the context of actions and reactions by other branches of government, political parties, and interest groups. Among the most transformative court decisions over the last half century are those involving legislative reapportionment and minority voting rights. Beginning in the 1960s, the federal courts restructured the nation's political institutions through decisions striking down malapportioned legislatures and local governing bodies through what used to be termed the “reapportionment revolution,” perhaps the only revolution ignored altogether by historians. Shortly thereafter the courts extended their attack on quantitative vote dilution (which the “one-person, one-vote” standard is designed to address) to include protection against electoral rules that dilute the voting strength of racial minorities.

In the best-selling book Civil Action, Jonathan Harr depicts an environmental pollution tale of frightening contamination and endless litigation in a small Massachusetts town during the 1970s and 1980s. A quixotic and some-what foolish lawyer pursues two giant and evil corporations through the legal system, seeking justice for his hapless working-class clients. In the end, the solitary lawyer falters when faced with the overwhelming economic and (seemingly underhanded) legal power of the corporations. Justice is not served, if it truly ever is, until the might of the federal Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) intervenes to force the business interests to admit some wrong and shell out some money.

Policy history has straddled two disciplines—history and policy analysis—neither of which has taken it very seriously. What unites those who study policy history is not that they are ”policy historians“ per se, but that they organize their analysis and narrative around the emergence, passage, and implementation of policy. Rather than a subfield, as the historian Paula Baker recently argued, policy history has resembled area studies programs. Policy history became an interdisciplinary arena for scholars from many different fields to interact. While founders hoped that policies would become an end in themselves, rather than something used to understand other issues, scholarship since 1978 has shown that the two are not mutually exclusive. In fact, some of the most innovative scholarship has come from social or political historians who have used policy to understand larger historical phenomena. In the process, the work provided a much richer understanding of how policymaking evolved.