Chapter 11 explores Gao’s strategies for defending Huainan, maintaining its economic and financial viability, ensuring its local administration, and pursuing external relations. Huainan was one of the wealthiest and most populous regions in the empire. “Great Bounty” outlines Gao’s policies of economic, agricultural, and commercial administration. “Commodity Taxes” discusses his role in southern China’s financial administration and his approach to using monopoly taxation for funding Huainan’s government. “Border Defense” details Gao’s actions as commander-in-chief and military governor responsible for building and funding armies capable of securing Huainan. “Inked Edicts” refers to the emperor’s privilege of appointing prefects and other provincial officials by personal edicts, a prerogative delegated to Gao Pian and other military governors in 881. In “Friend or Foe,” Gao engages in diplomatic exchanges with external actors to prevent attacks on Huainan’s borders and join forces with potential allies. After Huainan’s military and fiscal decoupling from the government-in-exile, Gao gains full powers over the region’s administration.

The Introduction places the fall of the Tang and the trajectory of Gao Pian in historical perspective and surveys external and internal factors that challenged the cohesion of the empire. The first half of the Tang had been a phase of vigorous imperial expansion, until the An Lushan rebellion weakened the Tang’s capacity to project power beyond its borders and initiated the rise of regional autonomy that culminated in the empire’s territorial dissolution. The section “Tang and Its Neighbors” reviews the empire’s external relations with Tibet, Nanzhao, and the Korean peninsula. “Internal Fault Lines” pinpoints the conditions testing the late empire’s viability: border wars, socio-economic distress, geographical imbalances, internal insurrection, and government factionalism. “A Broken Compact” highlights the breakdown of vassal allegiance to the Tang sovereign. “The Historical Record” draws attention to the bias of official historiography as regards issues of allegiance and details the range and types of alternative sources used in this book. “The General’s Scribe,” finally, explains how Gao Pian’s Korean secretary Ch’oe Ch’iwŏn, author of a previously neglected key archive on the period, arrived in Tang China.

Wollstonecraft, like most philosophers of the enlightenment period, had a deep trust in the power of reason to change the course of human history, and thought that religion, provided it was not dogmatic and allowed for dissent, was a crucial element of what it meant to be a good human being. Yet she was also an applied philosopher who engaged with revolutionaries proposing social and political reforms. In this chapter, I look at how her work was shaped by the political acts that took place around her, and how it in turns attempted to help shape the new social and political frameworks that were developing at the time – the French Revolution, which she commented on in her Moral and Historical View of the French Revolution.

Chapter 2 provides an overview of the Commission as a technology regulator, outlining the development of the EU’s technology policies and laws, from their beginnings in the late 1970s until the late 2000s. Reflecting on the limited interventions of the Commission during the period referred to as one of ‘Eurosclerosis’, and the beginnings of distinct technology policies and positive acts of integration around technology in the 1990s. It explores how during its development, EU technology policy was marked by a distinction between economically oriented developments, such as around intellectual property rights, and security-related ones as in the case of cybercrime and cybersecurity. However, in the period of the late 2000s/early 2010s and the EU ‘polycrisis’ of financial crisis, legitimacy crisis, and populism crisis, and concerns over the power of the private sector in technology governance, the groundwork was laid for seeing technology control in terms of interlinked economic and security goals, a growing distrust of ‘Big Tech’, and concerns about the need to externalise the EU’s rules and values, including through the Brussels effect.

Chapter 7 considers the developments that have taken place since the beginning of the von der Leyen II Commission, identifying how there has not only been continuity in the EU’s approach to technology control and its links to digital sovereignty but also an expansion and reinforcement of the approach. Faced with increased instability and geopolitical threat, the linkage of security and economy has become even more explicit for the von der Leyen II Commission, with the Competitiveness Compass taking an approach that appears to be a more assertive form of regulatory mercantilism, in which the element of defence is specifically incorporated into the EU’s rationale for action, with an expansion of technology controls including the development of an explicit push for defence technology industrial policy, the increased control over external dependencies and supply chains through its Preparedness Strategy, and an AI policy for Europe that includes significant investments for AI gigafactories.

This manifesto argues for a global exchange of wisdom such that, on one hand, those worst affected by climate change have a good understanding of its causes and consequences, and, on the other hand, their knowledge and experiences are fully incorporated into the international understanding of this global challenge. Taking the example of Uganda, it highlights that although many young people are experiencing the effects of climate change first hand through flooding, landslides or the impacts on agriculture and the wider economy, there is a widespread lack of understanding of the drivers, with local deforestation viewed as the main cause. This leaves young people only partially prepared for the future of worsening climate disruption. Climate change education, with indigenous examples to help pupils apply a broader lesson to a local context, can inform young people and empower them to respond. Sharing insights internationally and incorporating them into global educational offerings can support climate justice.

Chapter 3 moves to the global level, exploring the history of technology control and its historical links to geopolitics. It begins by considering control of technology in the context of the Cold War and technology as being explicitly considered a security issue in terms of the conflict between the US and the Soviet Union. It covers the CoCom technology restrictions imposed by the US, and Soviet Union attempts to gain access to critical technologies through Comecon, before considering how the approach to technology changed substantially with the end of the Cold War, the collapse of the Soviet Union, and the belief in the triumph of the liberal international order and globalism as reflected by the World Trade Organization and ‘free trade’. It then explores the multifaceted crises impacting upon this conviction in the benefits and resilience of the global trade system, the increased economic conflict between the US and China as a rising technological power, and a move from multilateralism in a ‘unipolar’ system to increased nationalism and protectionism in a ‘multipolar’ system, and what this meant for the EU’s sense of insecurity and vulnerability in the context of geopolitical reordering.

Chapter 7 describes the fortunes of Mwaura three years on from the original fieldwork. It draws attention to heightened anxieties about social breakdown illuminated by the author’s host family’s own breaking apart, and two deaths – one of a neighbourhood youth, and another of a neighbourhood elder, the same young man’s father. This ethnographic epilogue crystallises key issues brought out throughout the book: male struggles with alcoholism, anxieties about downward social mobility, the damaging effects of family breakdown, and contestation over landed futures.

How were England’s wetland margins imagined at a new scale, as a site of reform and profit at the heart of a thriving polity? This chapter traces the iterative rewriting of wetlands in histories, geographies, agricultural books, and pro-drainage pamphlets at the turn of the seventeenth century. Driven by desires to unify England and amplify national wealth, these improving authors reconceived the meanings and management of wetlands and common lands. Scholars have often identified this period as a hinge between long-standing beliefs that topography and climate shaped human bodies and societies and a new conviction that soil, water, and air could and should be altered through human intervention. This chapter suggests that environmental determinism and environmental reform were not antithetical impulses but instead two sides of the same coin. Improving authors interlaced older humoral theories with new ideas about political economy to articulate fen futures. In recasting wetlands as unruly, unhealthy, and unproductive, ambitious wetland projects became a ‘cure’ for the nation’s most pressing maladies, promising to produce productive land and industrious subjects.

This chapter explores the parallel efforts of the CCP and the KWP to train loyal party cadres. This was a critical taks for both parties. It shows how Sino-North Korean friendship was a powerful tool for training the emotions of the party bureaucracy.

Chapter 4 considers the conduct of business within the framework of the law and upper-class ideology in honouring debts and protecting the family name. How were contracts arranged? How did buying and selling and letting and hiring take place? What protection was there for the buyer? How did the legal process assist this? What were the rules for partnerships? Especially important to the government were tax-collecting companies. There were rules for deposits and loans, for which a stipulatio could establish interest. Banks operated with clear rules for interest, and various types of security were available for loans. One man’s business could be conducted on his behalf by others, often by his son or household slave, but in the Roman concept of agency he could be sued to a limited extent by those who had lost out in the business. In the labour market there was very limited protection for employees.

European colonial ventures in the Americas depended on Native American trading routes and economic practices, even as they transformed them. Europeans initially sought to extract valuable resources, but this endeavor always intersected with the day-to-day business of men and women alternately competing and cooperating to sustain their communities. European traders and settlers thus fit into networks crossing imperial and cultural boundaries that were simultaneously economic, familial, and political. Trading networks soon connected the violence of Indigenous land dispossession for the purposes of food cultivation and the export of staples such as sugar, tobacco, and rice with the violence of the Atlantic slave trade, which transported tens of thousands of captives each year from Africa to the Americas by the end of the seventeenth century. Over time, colonial settlers increasingly struggled against imperial governments for control over land, trade, and profits, with revolutionary political consequences in the eighteenth century.

Historians long to understand how historical individuals assessed their circumstances and made decisions, whether about daily life (What will I eat? Who will I meet?) or larger geopolitical contexts (Is this an ally or enemy? What is freedom?) In most historical circumstances, household and family was the context in which such assessments and decisions were made and taken. The overwhelming importance of this most local setting can escape our notice, but it should not: Households were the essential social structures of North America and the early modern Atlantic world. This chapter looks at the ways in which historiographies of gender (especially sexuality and reproduction), economy (especially market economies including the slave trade), and law (particularly laws of inheritance and marriage) shaped the household experiences and relationships of people in British America, North America, and the Atlantic world to 1775.

This chapter analyzes the popular dimensions of Egypt’s 2013 counterrevolution, using an original dataset of protests during the post-revolutionary transition. It shows that Egypt’s revolutionaries were unable to consolidate the social support of the revolution, and that this failure allowed counterrevolutionaries to channel broad disaffections with revolutionary rule into a popular movement for restoration. The dataset covers the final eighteen months of the transition and includes approximately 7,500 contentious events sourced from the major Arabic-language newspaper Al-Masry Al-Youm. These data reveal, first, the extent to which social mobilization persisted after the end of the eighteen-day uprising. The transition period was awash with discontent and unrest, much of it over nonpolitical issues like the deterioration of the economy, infrastructure problems, and unmet labor demands. Second, statistical analyses show that this discontent came to be directed against Mohamed Morsi’s government. The earliest and most persistent anti-Morsi protests emerged in places where the population had long been highly mobilized over socio-economic grievances. Later, they also began to emerge in places with large numbers of old regime supporters. Ultimately, these two groups – discontented Egyptians and committed counterrevolutionaries – came together to provide the social base for the movement that swept the military back to power.