The most common business enterprise form in Germany today is the Gesellschaft mit beschränkter Haftung (GmbH). The GmbH offers entrepreneurs the flexibility of a partnership combined with limited liability, capital lock-in, and other traits associated with corporations. Authorized in 1892, the GmbH appeared during a period of ferment in German enterprise law and was an early example of the private limited-liability company prevalent in many economies today. The new form reflected challenges created by the corporation reform of 1884, problems in German colonial companies, and the view that British company law had put German firms at a competitive disadvantage. Significant sections of the financial and legal community harbored strong reservations about this legal innovation.

Working from a database of over 1,700 printed circulars, this article explores the significance of the commercial innovations that took place during the second half of the eighteenth century and the first half of the nineteenth. Studying the chronology of the introduction of printed circulars and their use in mercantile practices, we demonstrate that commercial innovation can be interpreted as the mobilization of new tools and old practices to solve the traditional problems of long-distance trade, in a context where circulars were used to communicate information on trade houses, to search for new commercial partners, and to display one's socioprofessional identity.

The government in British-ruled India established cooperative banks to compete with private moneylenders in the rural credit market. State officials expected greater competition to increase the supply of low-cost credit, thereby expanding investment potential for the rural poor. Cooperatives did increase credit supply but captured a small share of the credit market and reported net losses throughout the late colonial and early postcolonial period. The article asks why this experiment did not succeed and offers two explanations. First, low savings restricted the role of social capital and mutual supervision as methods of financial regulation in the cooperative sector. Second, a political-economic ideology that privileged equity over efficiency made for weak administrative regulation.

The U.S. banking holiday of March 1933 was a pivotal event in twentieth-century political and economic history. After closing the nation's banks for nine days, the administration of newly inaugurated president Franklin D. Roosevelt restarted the banking system as the first step toward national recovery from the global Great Depression. In the conventional narrative, the holiday succeeded because Roosevelt used his political talents to restore public confidence in the nation's banks. However, such accounts say virtually nothing about what happened during the holiday itself. We reinterpret the banking crises of the 1930s and the 1933 holiday through the lens of bank supervision, the continuous oversight of commercial banks by government officials. Through the 1930s banking crises, federal supervisors identified troubled banks but could not act to close them. Roosevelt empowered supervisors to act decisively during the holiday. By closing some banks, supervisors made credible Roosevelt's claims that banks that reopened were sound. Thus, the union of FDR's political skills with the technical judgment of bank supervisors was the key to solving the banking crisis. Neither could stand alone, and both together were the vital precondition for further economic reforms—including devaluing the dollar—and, with them, Roosevelt's New Deal.

In 1993, four years prior to the publication of Clayton Christensen's highly influential book, The Innovator's Dilemma, the Business History Review published an article by Christensen titled “The Rigid Disk Drive Industry: A History of Commercial and Technological Turbulence.” The article relates the theory of disruptive innovation to Alfred D. Chandler's work on large vertically integrated enterprises. It was published during a pivotal era of scholarship on innovation, management practice, and industry evolution, much of which used the history of firms, industries, and technologies to build theory. I survey the impact and critiques of Christensen's research agenda, highlighting how it illustrates where the boundaries associated with the “lessons of history” should be drawn.

Corporations maximize shareholder returns—or so goes the conventional wisdom. It was not always so. In the middle decades of the last century, lawmakers, business leaders, and journalists agreed that the nation's largest and most powerful corporations had obligations to a raft of stakeholders that included (in addition to shareholders) employees, customers, and the localities in which they had set up shop. Some historians have labeled this consensus “corporate liberalism”; contemporaries called it “social responsibility.” Still others, including, most notably, Alfred D. Chandler Jr., regarded these corporate obligations as emblematic of a new stage in economic development—“managerial capitalism”—whose origins could be traced back to the railroad, the country's first “big business.” This consensus had durable consequences, as Kenneth J. Lipartito and others demonstrated in Corporate Responsibility: The American Experience (2012), a multiauthor survey of shifting assumptions regarding corporate governance in the United States from the colonial era to the present.