In this paper, we offer an alternative to class-based studies of saving behavior by using individual-level ledger records from accounts opened in 1830 in the Limehouse Savings Bank, London. Our analysis suggests that such banks served a valid financial purpose for a much wider constituency of savers than the targeted “industrious poor.” True gaming of the system by the middle classes appears to be relatively limited, and instead depositors were using accounts for a variety of means and motivations. We suggest that the contemporary consternation around class was misplaced and that we can better understand and predict depositor behaviors through analysis of transaction data.

This article examines the history of mining in British Southeast Asia during the early twentieth century. In particular, it focuses on the histories of the Burma Corporation and the Duff Development Company, which were located in British-occupied Burma and Malaya, respectively. It argues that despite being represented as “rogue” corporate ventures in areas under “indirect” colonial rule, the contrasting fates of each company—one successful, one not—reveal how foreign-owned businesses operating in the empire became increasingly beholden to British colonial state regulations during this period, marking a shift in policy from the “company-state” model that operated in prior centuries. The histories of these two firms ultimately demonstrate the continued significance of business in the making of empire during the late colonial period, bridging the divide between the age of company rule and the turn toward state-sponsored “development” that would occur in the mid-twentieth century.

In 1900, a syndicate of investors used open market purchases and manipulative trading strategies to exploit an ongoing financial crisis at the Third Avenue Railroad Company and stealthily gain control of the company. The acquisition occurred during the first great merger wave in U.S. history and represented the street railway industry’s response to a new technology, namely electrification. The lax regulatory environment of the period allowed operators and insiders to profit handsomely and may have benefited consumers, but possibly harmed some minority shareholders. Our case study illuminates an unusual acquisition, when capital markets were less transparent.

This article explores the link between the history of small-firm associations and the development of Dutch financial infrastructure geared toward small firms. In particular, it tests Verdier’s thesis about the origins of state banking using an in-depth case study of the Dutch small-firm movement. This article shows that Dutch small-firm associations did not simply became politically relevant and use their power to lobby for state banking, but rather used the topic of insufficient access to credit to rally support, mobilize members, and obtain subsidies from the government. During this associational process, they had to navigate local contexts and power structures that, in turn, also shaped the financial system. State banking was initially not demanded by small firms, but arose as the result of failed experiments with subsidized banking infrastructure and a changing position of the government on how to intervene in the economy.

Cathay Pacific’s shifting shareholder base underscores the dynamic interactions between the state and the market in an ever-changing geopolitical landscape. Focusing on its later transformation from a British airline, this article explores how Cathay Pacific refashioned its shareholding to respond to the shifting political climate of Hong Kong. In the protracted process through which Britain yielded jurisdictional power of Hong Kong to the People’s Republic of China, Cathay Pacific responded preemptively, first by enhancing its local profile, and then by appealing to economic nationalism of the sovereign state poised to take charge. The privately owned airline fashioned its corporate nationality in a bid to negotiate with political forces that affected its business development. The case of Cathay Pacific demonstrates how, in the absence of warfare, companies still need to mitigate political risks in a fluid geopolitical setting. By modifying its shareholding, Cathay Pacific crafted its corporate nationality, which proved instrumental in allaying political risks and managing business relationship with the state. The airline’s strategy attests to its dexterity as well as the pliability of the notion of “corporate nationality,” winning management the “license to operate”—legitimacy and state sponsorship—during a period of swift geopolitical shifts.

There have been calls in recent literature for researchers to open up the “black box” of business schools to explore their dynamics and behaviors in-depth for a context-sensitive understanding of their evolution. Drawing on the case of ESCP, a leading business school in France, this article shows how European business schools’ curricula have evolved since the late 1960s in response to a combination of powerful actors’ demands and the emergence of new processes in the educational domain. This article finds that while European business schools’ curricula reflect the influence of internal and external forces, they do not converge to a common type, because of the different markets and political and cultural contexts in which they operate. It also finds that business schools in Europe purposefully do not imitate those in United States.

This article examines the development of buyer-supplier relations in the telecom sector. The literature on telecoms in Scandinavia has been dominated by the narrative praising the trusting and collaborative relations between Telia, the Swedish public telephone operator (PTO), and Ericsson, the equipment supplier. The Norwegian PTO, Telenor, diverted from this path and was a pioneer in preferring competitive tenders and arm’s length relations with its suppliers starting in the 1970s. The article argues that Telenor’s history and nationality had a significant impact on its business strategy. In addition, the article examines why some business narratives persist while others remain unknown. One finding is that shareholder-friendly narratives have a handicap because they focus on self-interest and money, and not societal values.

The turbulent 1830s saw a sequence of great political and social reforms in the United Kingdom. One such reform was the introduction of a locally funded Poor Law in Ireland. The development of a nascent welfare system in 1838 coincided with a boom in the formation of microfinance institutions in Ireland. The focus of this study is the expansion of a hybrid organizational form, Loan Fund Societies (LFSs), in the ten years prior to the Great Irish Famine of 1845–1849. LFSs were legally established with a conflictual structure: acting as commercially viable charitable institutions required to provide credit to the deserving poor (to enable them to be self-sufficient) while dedicating their “profits” to supporting the indigent poor. This study uses an analytical framework drawing inspiration from institutional logics to explore and better understand Irish microfinance in the early nineteenth century, a period of profound socioeconomic and socioreligious changes. It seeks to explain the factors that motivated the establishment and de-establishment of microfinance institutions amid this tumult. Legislative changes in LFS business parameters in 1843 made the tensions between being charitable and commercially sustainable salient; and, for some, it made continued existence untenable.

Similarities between William Rowe’s Speaking of Profit and Peter Lavelle’s The Profits of Nature are not hard to find. Both are focused on the lives of elite men enmeshed in the political world of nineteenth-century China, explain and analyze their views of proper governance and their places in the intellectual milieu of the era, and cast an eye toward global comparisons. Both also feature the word “profit” in the title, and not by coincidence. However, their respective focuses lie on opposite ends of the momentous ruptures of China’s mid-nineteenth century, most notably the Opium (1839–1842) and Taiping (1850–1864) wars. Reading these two books together poses the provocative question of whether their similarities outweigh this considerable difference.