In his brief ministerial career, John Stuart, third Earl of Bute, undertook a project to remake how the king's ministers would perform. Eschewing the personal power accorded to ministers like William Pitt and the Duke of Newcastle under George II, Bute and the young King George III attempted to reform the cabinet into a place of debate, unity, and resolution where administration was shared by all ministers equally. In this they were following the moral and aesthetic sensibilities of the age into a new form of political arrangements, adapting the 1688 settlement into a structure capable of administering territorial empire so long as one did not look too closely at issues of sovereignty or representation. The seemingly small and inconsistently applied shift nonetheless had enormous consequences as it shaped the hemisphere-defining policies of Bute's ministry: the Treaty of Paris of 1763 and the Royal Proclamation of 1763 that followed close on its heels. While historical accounts of Britain's 1763–83 imperial crisis tend to focus on the revenue schemes of 1764–65 as the primary origin point for conflict, Bute's “cabinet revolution” played a larger role than has generally been acknowledged in setting the stage for grander visions of imperial power and the larger protests over that power.

In 1917, the US Department of Labor launched a new section: the Division of Negro Economics (DNE). Established to study black labor in the context of the Great Migration and staffed completely by black social scientists and social workers, the division offers a window onto the origins and meaning of black economics in the United States. During an age of pervasive scientific racism, the division’s leaders leveraged the language and tools of academic economics to assert black Americans' fundamental humanity, particularly by rendering black migrants as economic agents. The history of the division reveals how black economic thinkers made the economic study of the Great Migration into an egalitarian intellectual project, even if they could not escape institutional bias and prejudice. It stands as a lesson on the potential of economics, both as a tool of oppression and as one of political claims-making.

For two weeks in July 1967, several thousand people attended the International Congress on the Dialectics of Liberation in London, a sprawling event that is now largely remembered as a point of convergence for an unlikely roster of prominent radical intellectuals—Stokely Carmichael, Allen Ginsberg, Paul Goodman, and Herbert Marcuse among them. This article uses a broad array of sources to present the congress as a mass counterinstitution in which a variety of social actors—including not only the invited speakers, but also conference organizers and audience members—struggled to establish nonauthoritarian forms of knowledge production. The record of these efforts, and in particular the audience's demand to participate directly in the production and exchange of ideas, illuminates the ways in which radical intellectuals' challenge to dominant institutions in the global North during the late 1960s threatened to undermine their own discursive authority.