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Since the late 1950s, nutrition experts have debated whether foods enriched with micronutrients such as protein could alleviate world hunger. Industrial production of such ›wonder foods‹ began in the 1960s, making the food industry an actor in international food aid. Following a brief review of the history of scientific nutrition research, the article analyzes the first boom of fortified foods between the 1950s and the 1970s. With particular reference to the NGO CARE and the Institute of Nutrition of Central America and Panama (INCAP) with its product Incaparina, it shows how the conflict-ridden cooperation between humanitarian actors, governments, business and science developed. In addition to looking at contemporary debates about prices, quality controls and marketing strategies, consumer perspectives must be considered in order to understand the success or failure of new products. After a temporary slump in euphoria from the 1970s onwards, ›wonder foods‹ have experienced a revival since the 1990s – mainly because the networks between governments, nutrition experts, international organizations and the food industry were further cultivated and greater consideration was given to the needs of consumers.
Seit den späten 1950er-Jahren diskutierten ErnährungsexpertInnen, ob mit Mikronährstoffen wie Protein angereicherte Nahrungsmittel den Hunger auf der Welt lindern könnten. Die industrielle Produktion solcher »Wonder Foods« begann in den 1960er-Jahren. Damit wurde die Lebensmittelindustrie zu einem Akteur in der internationalen Nahrungsmittelhilfe. Nach einem kurzen Rückblick auf die Geschichte wissenschaftlicher Ernährungsforschung analysiert der Aufsatz den ersten Boom angereicherter Nahrungsmittel zwischen den 1950er- und den 1970er-Jahren. Am Beispiel der NGO CARE und des zentralamerikanischen Ernährungsinstituts INCAP mit seinem Produkt »Incaparina« wird gezeigt, wie sich die konfliktreiche Kooperation zwischen humanitären Akteuren, Regierungen, Wirtschaft und Wissenschaft entwickelte. Neben dem Blick auf zeitgenössische Debatten über Preise, Qualitätskontrollen und Marketingstrategien müssen insbesondere KonsumentInnenperspektiven einbezogen werden, um Erfolg oder Scheitern neuer Produkte zu verstehen. Nach einem temporären Einbruch der Euphorie ab den 1970er-Jahren erlebten »Wonder Foods« seit den 1990er-Jahren ein Revival – vor allem deshalb, weil die Netzwerke zwischen Regierungen, ErnährungsexpertInnen, internationalen Organisationen und Lebensmittelindustrie weiter gepflegt wurden und die Bedürfnisse von KonsumentInnen mehr Berücksichtigung fanden.
By analysing oral history interviews with industrial workers in Poland, this article adds some nuance to the study of post-industrial and post-socialist nostalgia. It presents diverse vernacular memories of the post-1989 systemic change from state socialism to neoliberal capitalism, and shows that nostalgia for an industrial ›golden age‹, although significant, is not the only way of making sense of this change. Rather, a distinctive feature of vernacular memory is the ambiguity about both socialism and capitalism. Recognising the variety of memories, the article underlines the critical potential of nostalgic currents for highlighting what is felt to be wrong with contemporary work culture. The article also differentiates between the vernacular memories of industrial communities recorded in oral history and institutionalised political memories in order to stress that the critical potential of nostalgic memories has been largely absent in the latter. In Poland, nostalgia for industrial life has been given little opportunity to become a reflective and critically useful mechanism to protect values that remain relevant in the present, such as the importance of sociability and agency in the workplace.
Historians have analyzed films, novels, records, theater plays etc. primarily in reference to their meaning and reception. This article makes a case for moving the focus to the actors, structures and processes that shape symbolic objects before these are consumed. To this end, we present a framework established in US sociology to study the fabrication, distribution and evaluation of symbolic content. We discuss the production of culture perspective as an approach that appears to be particularly useful for historical research and, by reviewing selected works from the sociological literature, demonstrate how this perspective can be applied to phenomena like popular music and literary fiction. We focus on genres as bundles of conventions as one lens through which historians may analyze the creation, reproduction, evaluation and consumption of culture.
The supposedly commercial products of the culture industry are increasingly facing sales difficulties because growing numbers of self-assertive consumers are downloading products at will, thus no longer following the given rules of the market. Not only multinational record companies, but also representatives of ‘high’ culture are adamant in their criticism of the current ‘culture for free’ tendency. The latter can hardly be characterized as profit-oriented – nor would they describe themselves that way – but they contend that bootleg copies are a threat to their livelihood, and that the culture of piracy paves the way for harebrained mass products. The discussion encompasses copyright laws and the ways consumers are appropriating cultural products as well as the question whether or not these tendencies will fundamentally change the production of culture. Such debates are charged with cultural criticism, but in essence of economic nature. In addition, the cultural sector is faced with the accusation of waning societal relevance. In the arts and features sections of newspapers and magazines, journalists and essayists bemoan that pop culture is no longer ‘the voice and mirror of political and social change, like twenty or thirty years ago’. Although popular culture may have evolved from its original return and distribution strategies as well as its constitutive (at least for some) connection to youth and protest movements, a medially conveyed, market-driven culture that is accessible to a wide audience remains a characteristic feature of modern societies and their self-perceptions.
Klaus Nathaus and C. Clayton Childress convincingly argue that cultural and symbolic objects are produced before they are consumed and that therefore cultural historians should take a closer look at the social and economic conditions of cultural production. Instead of taking it for granted that mass reception inversely indicates the existence of a demand already ‘being there’, historians should dig into the production processes influenced (among others) by individual taste, material interest, and arbitrary decisions – or, as Nathaus, Childress and the often cited Richard A. Peterson would call it – contingency. While most of Nathaus and Childress’s examples stem from the field of music, I will in my response apply the cultural production concept to a non-musical field, namely documentary photography in the first half of the twentieth century. Further, I will raise some questions that still seem to be unanswered. Given that the causal relation between production and consumption by and large equals the chicken and egg problem, what sense does it make to shift attention from reception to production – especially when dealing with modifications of objects, commodities, or genres rather than inventions in the sense of ‘there was nothing like this before’? I will suggest to extend the concept beyond the study of ‘classical’ cultural objects – like novels or records – and to include commodities like food, clothes, or cars. Finally, I will raise the question of how to apply the production of culture perspective to socialist economies after 1945, which to my knowledge has not been tried yet.
As a striking phenomenon of Soviet consumption, Beriozka stores appeared in the late 1950s and existed until the end of the 1980s. This chain of stores was a state trade organization selling goods that were otherwise in short supply (cars, fashionable clothes, household appliances, etc.) for special ‘checks’ used as equivalents of foreign currency by special groups of Soviet citizens. Similar stores existed in other socialist countries. The article shows that these stores on the one hand became an element of the existing system of state-granted entitlements. The customers were Soviet citizens who earned money abroad as well as people who did not go abroad but received remittances from foreign sources. On the other hand, the development of the black market (barely persecuted by the state) made it possible to purchase Beriozka checks for roubles; so it granted access to sought-after goods (among them even goods from the West) to a wide range of consumers. Paradoxically, Beriozka was criticized and much frequented at the same time.
Milton Friedman hung up the phone in disgruntlement. The most influential economist of the postwar era had just called three different banks, one in Chicago and then two in New York, in order to initiate a financial transaction. He wanted to sell short $300,000 in pound sterling. Short selling is a technique for speculating on falling prices. Initially, speculators can only speculate on rising prices: they buy something and hope that it gains value, so that they can sell it at a profit. If the price for this asset goes down instead, the speculator incurs a loss when he resells it. So in order to profit from falling prices, speculators need to sell first and buy later – which is indeed possible if what is sold now is in fact only to be delivered a few weeks later. If the speculator is right and prices fall in the interim, he can buy cheap just before delivery is due and thus profit from having already sold what, at the time, he had not yet owned.
The newly emerging historical scholarship on the era ›after the boom‹, on the marketization of societies in the wake of the neoliberal political reforms, deregulation, and privatization starting in the 1970s, has emphasized this threshold as an epochal break that was driven by large-scale structural shifts in the global economy, in social relations, and in cultural identities. This new accentuation of the economic and social transformation has, for good reason, eclipsed older historical traditions that focused on events, discourses, specific interests, and individual actors. The marketization of social relations is thus often considered to be the result of processes beyond the reach and scope of purposeful actors that promoted specific societal changes. While this historical focus is quite right in denying independent causal status to specific agents and the self-aggrandizement of vain leaders and their intellectual entourage, it tends to obscure the historical genesis of ideas and concepts that later became critical components of political leadership, and the specific constellations of interests, knowledge and actors that did prefigure and originally promote the marketization of economic and political institutions.
Marketization is a broad term with a wide range of meanings. It encompasses measures of deregulation and privatization as well as the perceived increase of an ›economic‹ logic in social relationships. For historical purposes, the term should not be narrowly defined, and nor should the concept of marketization be used in an ahistorical manner detached from contemporary usage. However, there are two questions which the historical analysis of marketization needs to address. First, what is the conceptual understanding of the market mechanism to which the term marketization is linked? Second, what is the relationship between marketization and economic theory?
Theory matters. Most historians would probably agree with this postulate, in the sense that theories from disciplines such as sociology, economics or psychology can sharpen historical analyses of any topic (though many of them may prefer quite pragmatic, common-sense approaches in their own empirical studies). But when it comes to a historical understanding of a phenomenon like marketization, theory does remain an analytical resource – and at the same time turns into a multifaceted object of research. The way we think about markets is highly affected by theorists, and not only by their ideas but also by their effectiveness in making them influential over specific periods of time.
The paper explores representations of economic reform in Czechoslovakia immediately before and after the fall of the centrally planned economy in 1989/90. By what means was the concept of rapid economic transition towards a liberal market setting mediated into the academic and the public sphere? How did it achieve wide public consent? In the first part, the paper analyzes the Czechoslovak academic discussion about perestroika in the late 1980s, where a rapid liberal transition was cast by a distinct group of younger scholars as the only possible way of reforming the socialist economy. Their training was based above all on Paul A. Samuelson’s canonical textbook Economics, which presented this discipline almost as a natural science with universal standards. Immediately after 1989/90, when some of these scholars assumed executive positions within the new Czechoslovak government, what were at first purely economic ways of reasoning merged with certain images of the national past, creating a mixture of liberal economic knowledge and national exceptionalism.
Research on the commons, and its historical enclosure, has largely restricted itself to rural areas and the frontier. This article examines the declining access to Rio de Janeiro’s urban commons, its streets and its squares. Into the nineteenth century, residents perceived Rio’s streets as remnants of nature, left intact to give access to the built environment. The streets served as a diverse human habitat, a place for community, play, work, and commerce. With the arrival of the automobile, Rio’s public spaces began to be transformed into spaces set aside largely for movement. The automotive class, which in Brazil remained a tiny minority, captured most of the streets’ spaces for driving and its squares and sidewalks for parking, in a sense closing the street off to many of its former functions. In fact, automotive movement justified – and its violence enforced – the elimination of street behaviors which the elite had been decrying unsuccessfully for decades. Compared to the developed world, the pace of automobilization in Rio was slow, but it had a profound impact from as early as the second decade of the century.
Since the 1950s, cycling policy in China has gone through three phases: from active encouragement (1955–1994) and systematic discouragement (1994–2008) to neglect and ambivalence (since the 2010s). Parallel to the expansion of automobility, the country has been unique in its development of innovations in electric-powered two-wheelers and a vibrant e-cycling practice since the 1980s. Electric bikes have given over 300 million low-status commuters and peddlers access to jobs and housing, even though planners have dismissed them as a problematic ›floating population‹ and remnants of the past. Given China’s current urban sustainable mobility challenges and ambition to become the world’s first ›Ecological Civilization‹ (2013), China’s bicycle industry, e-vehicle manufacturers, and the e-commerce sector may offer an alternative to the US-based ›car civilization‹ if ecological (e-cycles) and social (low-status workers) sustainability are brought into one analytical frame.
Labour Policy in Industry
(2008)
From 1933 onwards industrial law was transformed from one which protected employees to one intended to secure the regime’s power over them. In the Third Reich the political and ideological aims of the regime - under the cloak of ‘Volk und Rasse’ (nation and race) - became the guiding principles of a new labour law. Evidence of this can be found in the destruction of trade unions, the arbitrary treatment to which non-conforming employees could be subjected, the integration of employees into the network of National Socialist institutions, the authoritarian wage policy, the rapidly vanishing significance of labour courts and the ascendancy of legal offices of the German Labour Front (Deutsche Arbeitsfront, DAF), which propagated the theory of a racist national community (Volksgemeinschaft).
In this article I examine the context for the British bank Barclays’ decision to disinvest from South Africa in 1986, with special attention to the impact of the Anti-Apartheid Movement’s campaign against the bank. The 18-year long campaign against Barclays – the largest bank in South Africa at the time and the fourth largest foreign-owned corporation – points to significant developments within the fields of corporate social responsibility and the potential influence of social movements on multinational corporations. Applying the theoretical approach of subpolitics as developed by Ulrich Beck in combination with the later subdivision by Boris Holzer and Mads P. Sørensen into a passive and an active form, it is possible to analyse the decisions of both anti-apartheid activists and Barclays on similar terms. The conclusions drawn in this article emphasise the idea that economic decisions taken by multinational corporations may have unintended political consequences and, furthermore, that the awareness of this phenomenon has contributed to the development of corporate social responsibility. Finally, I suggest that the campaign against Barclays generated public attentiveness towards the social responsibility of businesses.
Debating Consumer Durables, Luxury and Social Inequality in Poland during the System Transition
(2017)
Environmental history is the history of the changing mutual relationship between humankind and nature. The various, more or less concrete attempts to define this area of historical study can be reduced to this basic common denominator. Though the notion of man and nature's mutual dependence may sound pithy at first, it's a rather fuzzy one upon closer inspection. Melanie Arndt describes this field of research in all its facets – because the valuable contribution of environmental history as a „subdiscipline” deserves much greater recognition from the outside world and from scholars working in other disciplines.
The peculiar admiration that National Socialists had for Henry Ford and the supposed sympathies that the Detroit industrialist harbored for Nazism keep attracting the curious, both academic historians and Internet dilettantes. There is something irresistible about the connection between the man taken to symbolize American industrial modernity and the quintessential villains of the twentieth century.