This article argues that scholars’ current understanding of Social Security policy making in the 1950s is missing a crucial component: massive letter-writing campaigns by ordinary Americans. Americans’ letters to Congress—and the responses of members and their aides in public debates and constituent correspondence—reflect a more vibrant, more democratic, and messier policy-making process than scholars have previously recognized. In the 1950s, Congress voted to amend the Social Security Act of 1935 repeatedly, expanding both the number of occupations covered by the Old Age and Survivors Insurance program and the level of benefits individuals received. Scholars have depicted this expansion as the work of planners within the Social Security bureaucracy. Yet, the letters in congressional records reveal that the process of amending Social Security resulted from—and helped create—constituencies of Americans who felt entitled to make claims on the federal state apparatus.

This article considers a significant but overlooked set of policy developments in the latter half of the twentieth century: the extension of collective bargaining rights to most health care workers, many of whom were formally excluded for three decades under the 1947 Taft-Hartley amendments. Drawing on primary sources including archival records, an exhaustive review of congressional testimony, and rulings from the quasijudicial agency governing private sector industrial relations, this article shows that health care workers did so in two interrelated processes. First, in coordination with the civil rights movement, workers mobilized and used both disruptive and legal social movement tactics. Second, in doing so they drew the state into and revealed its position in the collective bargaining process between workers and health institutions, facilitating what is conceptualized as cross-domain policy feedback. Cross-domain policy feedback occurs when a policy in one domain (e.g., public health spending) influences the politics of a policy in a seemingly separate one (e.g., labor and employment relations). Such effects, this article suggests, are likely to occur when a policy is relatively large in scale, implicates actors with a diverse set of interests, and offers significant ambiguity and discretion in its implementation. Empirically, this article is the first to chart the institutionalization of collective bargaining rights for health care workers, among the largest group of private sector employees in the postindustrial economy. It also offers a new theoretical and conceptual framework through which to study the ways by which public policies reshape political dynamics—an enduring research agenda for students of American politics and policy.

Currently, scholars hold that the government’s principal contribution to the California wine industry’s recovery from Prohibition in the 1930s was to get out of the way, freeing entrepreneurs to conduct business properly; according to this interpretation, the United States only taxed the product and impeded progress. But this article argues that in the areas of regulation, promotion, and protection of the wine industry, the federal government provided a framework for California winemakers to succeed and that, moreover, it often did so at their request and in cooperation with them. Though New Deal laws and regulations did not benefit all stakeholders equally, they did work to bring economic recovery to an industry that suffered from both Prohibition and the Depression.

This article traces the history of the Office of Economic Opportunity/Community Services Administration, focusing on Richard Nixon’s failed attempt to dismantle it in 1973 and Ronald Reagan’s successful effort in 1981. I explore main two main questions: Why was Reagan able to succeed when Nixon had failed? and What does the dismantling of the agency reveal about the development of American conservatism in the 1970s and 1980s? Drawing on original archival materials, I argue that the Reagan administration learned from Nixon’s failures and adopted a more professional, managerial stance when it dismantled the agency in 1981. In addition, recent work in history and political science has explored how the multiracial democratic vision articulated by LBJ’s Great Society helped fuel the modern conservative movement. By focusing on the long-term opposition against OEO/CSA, this article provides new insights into how conservatives articulated an alternative ideology to postwar liberalism.

This article examines the Committee for Constitutional Government, a conservative organization that spearheaded a novel form of mass-based mobilization and direct-mail propaganda to counter New Deal reforms from 1937 to the late 1950s. I argue that the members of the committee offered a supple and variegated response to New Deal liberalism, one with deep roots in the American past. Organizationally, the committee differed from other conservative groups of the period in the vastly greater reach of its propaganda, the small-donor financial base of its operations, and its extensive cultivation of a grassroots movement committed to right-wing reform. The committee was a critical political actor from 1937 to 1955, systematically shaping legislation and countering the trend toward social democracy in America. The ultimate result of its campaigns was to retard the growth of the administrative state and help formulate a cogent conservative critique of reformist liberalism.

This article argues for the importance of reframing the history of school desegregation in the United States beyond Black and white and beyond the regional frames through which this history has been interpreted. In Western states, most Latino children attended schools segregated not by law but by custom starting in the early twentieth century; Latino students also encountered de facto segregation in the Eastern and Midwestern cities with large Puerto Rican populations by the 1950s. Parents, students, advocates, and activists protested the inequality of educational outcomes for Latino children over many decades, developing distinctive strategies to address the combination of racial and language-based discrimination faced by Latino students. Yet, because they were marginalized in political debates in the 1960s and 1970s and because most national-level historical scholarship on school desegregation focuses on Black and white participants, Latinos’ role in this aspect of our national civil rights history has remained obscured.

This article examines three high-profile House ethics cases involving former Speakers James Wright (1988–1989) and Newt Gingrich (1994–1997) and former House Majority Leader Tom DeLay (1997–2004). The analysis of the filing and disposition of charges in the three cases provides some evidence for the “politics-by-other-means” or “partisan-ethics-wars” framework that is sometimes used to evaluate ethics enforcement in Congress. However, the analysis also provides evidence of bipartisan agreement both in the ethics committee and on the floor. The article highlights the areas of bipartisan consensus and the principles behind that consensus. In paying attention to the content of the cases, it also highlights an important change in ethics investigations over time, specifically an increase in “political gain” cases. The article thus calls attention to aspects of House ethics investigations that are undervalued and inadequately addressed by the partisan-ethics-wars framework.

In the early 1980s “industrial policy” seemed to be emerging as the American left’s answer to supply-side economics. Yet soon after, supply-side economics was triumphant and industrial policy back in the political wilderness. This article investigates why the American left rejected industrial policy in the 1980s but appears to be reembracing it under the Biden administration. Via reviewing the history of the industrial policy debate, I argue that the American left rejected industrial policy proposals for several reasons including disunity within the Democratic party coalition, the growing strength of the venture capital industry, and the perceived incompatibility of industrial policy with American political institutions. Despite the defeat of industrial policy movement in the 1980s, however, I argue that a process of adaptation and reworking during the Clinton administration allowed industrial policy ideas to survive in “hibernation,” ultimately reemerging in the changed policy environment which followed the 2008 financial crisis.

This article argues that 1961 to 1967 was a critical period when federal, state, and academic institutions looked with hope toward emerging methods in behavioral and social psychology to train juvenile justice officials and to treat delinquent children. Reflecting liberal optimism regarding the possibility of reforming individual behavior without structural change, the Juvenile Delinquency and Youth Offenses Control Act of 1961 provided project funding to cities, nonprofits, and universities. Using the University of North Carolina’s Training Center on Delinquency and Youth Crime as a case study, this article examines how federal funding was used for “experiments” with group therapy, youth incarceration, and cocreation of juvenile justice. Though largely inconclusive, these experiments demonstrated the existence of alternatives to the hyperinstitutionalization of juvenile offenders that accelerated after the Supreme Court’s 1967 decision of In re Gault.

This article provides an analysis of the potential danger to a president’s policy agenda that comes from appointing a sitting elected official to the cabinet. We present historical data on cabinet secretaries since the founding and demonstrate that concerns about seats falling to the other party following the appointment of an elected official to the cabinet date back at least to Martin Van Buren’s establishment of the first American mass political party in 1828. We then focus on the post-Seventeenth Amendment cabinet and show that almost 30 percent of cabinet secretaries in this era who were elected officials at the time of their appointment left seats that flipped to the other party by the next regular general election. We conclude by discussing how our results compare with Alexander Hamilton, Martin Van Buren, and Woodrow Wilson’s differing views on the cabinet and the implications for the president’s policy agenda.

Within a year of World War II’s end, the United States federal government passed the National Mental Health Act of 1946. This bill was the country’s first significant foray into the realm of psychological health. Many studies have examined the act and its legacy, including the creation of the National Institute of Mental Health. Fewer studies, however, have investigated the significant roles of veterans and veterans’ organizations in the passage of this legislation. This essay delves into these various roles and argues that veterans, from various professional backgrounds, united by creating strategic arguments to lobby for this act. Their motivations ranged from the desire to destigmatize mental health issues to discovering methods for the prevention and treatment of psychiatric problems among American society. Ultimately, these veterans helped the nation revolutionize its approach to mental health policy and paved the way for future servicemembers to take a stand and become political actors.

In this article I analyze Salvador Allende’s economic program and policies. I argue that the explosion of inflation during his administration (above 1,500% on a six-month annualized measure) was predictable, and I show that the government’s response to it was political. I postulate that runaway inflation generated major disaffection among the middle class and that that unhappiness paved the way to Pinochet’s coup d’état in 1973.

Until 1838 the U.S. government lent railroads Army engineers to survey routes. Though not strictly regulators, these army engineers would consequently face powerful versions of the incentives that make regulatory capture a pervasive problem—including an intensified “revolving door,” the opportunity for institutional empire building, and a fertile ground for cognitive capture. Nevertheless, engineering officers would push to abolish federal railroad aid, succeeding by 1838. This article argues that they turned against railroad aid when the nation’s growing rail network revitalized long-standing republican hopes of replacing standing armies and fortifications with floating batteries and militias. Though this scheme was strategically quixotic, Jacksonian populism and fiscal retrenchment during the Panic of 1837 combined with the transportation revolution to make it appear a credible threat to the Corps’s institutional raison d’être—building coastal fortifications. Engineers thus turned against railroad aid to protect their core competency, highlighting underappreciated tensions between institutional and industry interests.

For five decades now the various levels of government in the United States, through the use of affirmative action and diversity policies, have sought a more racially and gender-wise equitable society with respect to equal employment opportunity. Governments established hiring goals for women and racial minorities. Goals became quotas as state and local governments (and private employers) that were dependent on federal money made certain that goals produced desired results by preferring people based on their race or gender. This article is a case study of how the Commonwealth’s welfare cabinet over two decades ago used long-standing civil service regulations and policies to pursue preferential employment practices while conterminously pursuing greater societal equity by reducing governmental oversight of welfare programs. All this foreshadowed President Biden’s iteration of affirmative action—federal equity directives regarding employment preferences and greater conditions of equality. After the events described herein, Democratic Kentucky transformed itself into a Republican state.

Modern English policing arose from crime, laws, and demands for social order, but this perspective further introduces matters of philosophy that ties political liberty to political economy as being less recognized but equally powerful contributors. Shown here is how civic republican political economy (1600–1750) policing lost favor to laissez-faire utilitarian preferences (1750–1829) and helped produce more civic democratic policing. Through this perspective, it shows that Sir Robert Peel’s 1829 police were really centuries in the making.

Understanding the origins of policy ideas can be crucial when trying to explain dynamics of political change and continuity. Paradigmatic changes in the German pension system have been attributed to the import of “foreign” neoliberal policy ideas from transnational organizations and other countries. The literature describes such processes as policy diffusion, transfer, or translation. In contrast, this article argues that foreign pension ideas did not have a substantive influence on local policy innovations and preference-formation processes. Instead, pension policy pioneers developed their ideas predominantly “from within” through bricolage by reconfiguring long-standing domestic schools of thought. Drawing on a wide range of primary and secondary sources, the analysis combines a broad historical perspective with case studies of individual policy makers. This sheds new light on the careers of ideas and why significant actors pick them up at certain points.

Currently, much of the literature surrounding Black politics in the 1920s and 1930s understates the role that Black citizens and politicians played in challenging Jim Crow and white supremacy at the national level. Instead, different factors like the “cage” that white Southerners placed on Civil Rights legislation or the influence that New Deal programs had on electoral decisions in the Black community. After realignment, Black Americans and their allies were then able to launch more effective challenges against white supremacy. Although these narratives contain much explanatory power, oftentimes they overlook critical aspects of Black politics during this period that complicate this narrative. Examining the career of Oscar DePriest, the first Black congressman elected in the twentieth Century, this article argues that Black citizens and their representatives were able to explicitly affect politics at the local, state, and federal levels through DePriest’s career prior to realignment.