Introduction
Summary of the Book The Managerial Revolution by James Burnham. Before moving forward, let’s take a quick look at the book. Imagine opening a door into a world where no single billionaire tycoon or visionary revolutionary calls all the shots. Instead, quiet figures, skilled in organization and planning, shape nations’ futures. They wear no crowns, hold no ancient titles, and may not own vast estates. Yet, they direct enterprises, plan production lines, and coordinate complex systems that keep cities lit and markets stocked. This is the realm of the managerial revolution—an era where society’s fate rests with experts who guide the flow of resources. As you journey through these chapters, you’ll discover how capitalism’s old certainties cracked and why neither communism’s ideal nor yesterday’s owners could fill the gap. Step inside and see how, in the machinery of modern life, managers have become the new masters of our destiny.
Chapter 1: Unfolding the Layers of Capitalism’s Past, Present, and Questionable Tomorrow.
Imagine stepping into a bustling marketplace where everyone is busy buying and selling things, from shiny watches to crates of apples. In such a place, it may seem as if the value of every single object is measured by how much someone is willing to pay for it. That is exactly what capitalism taught people to do. In a capitalist world, nearly everything that can be touched, tasted, worn, or used is seen as a commodity with a price tag. Over hundreds of years, this viewpoint became the norm across large parts of the globe, from America’s early industrial towns to Europe’s growing trade hubs. As individuals learned to judge things through prices, entire societies began to revolve around making money and reinvesting it to generate even more profit.
Since the end of the Middle Ages, capitalism gradually replaced older social systems, inching its way to dominance. Craftsmen once worked small workshops with apprentices at their side, and nobles controlled lands where peasants toiled for basic necessities. Over time, these patterns were disrupted as factories sprouted and capitalists—people who owned these means of production—emerged as powerful new figures. The world of merchants, industrialists, and financiers took center stage. Machines, fueled by investment, pumped out goods at increasing speed. The aim wasn’t just to meet people’s needs; it was to ensure that every piece of equipment and every drop of labor turned into profit. This way of thinking, focusing on profit margins and continuous growth, soon spread, influencing political decisions, cultural values, and personal ambitions.
While capitalism can appear natural, as if it is simply how humanity chooses to operate, it is important to understand that it is neither permanent nor universal. Many people imagine capitalism has always existed because they see no alternative around them. Yet, capitalism only rose a few centuries ago, replacing older systems and economic patterns that functioned differently. In previous eras, economic structures served royal courts, religious institutions, or tightly knit communities of skilled workers. Money existed, but it did not always rule. Over time, as industries exploded in size and complexity, vast fortunes were made, and a clear difference emerged between those who owned factories and those who worked inside them. By the dawn of the twentieth century, capitalism appeared solid and unshakable, but cracks were beginning to show.
These cracks emerged in many forms, from rising social tensions to the periodic economic crises that rippled through markets. Crashes and slumps left large numbers of people unemployed. Instead of everyone thriving, profits often stayed concentrated with the few who held control over factories, banks, and shipping lines. Still, for a long time, capitalism adapted and shifted, surviving wars, depressions, and revolutions. New policies, laws, and global trade networks kept it marching forward. Yet, beneath that steady march lurked a question: Could capitalism last forever? If it began at some point in history, might it also end? By the early 1940s, political thinkers like James Burnham started asking these tough questions out loud, watching as governments intervened in economies and as managerial figures began to overshadow traditional capitalists. Something fundamental seemed about to change.
Chapter 2: Untangling the Myth of Capitalism’s Eternal Grip on Human Society.
There’s a common temptation to see capitalism as a permanent fixture of human life, as steady and reliable as the tides. After all, if generations have grown up knowing nothing else, isn’t it natural to assume it will last indefinitely? Yet, if we travel back through centuries, we see that societies were once built on feudal arrangements, caste systems, or small-scale communal economies. Capitalism arose rather late in human history. It didn’t always shape how we see money, work, or resources. Just because we currently live under capitalist structures does not mean these structures are fixed. History is filled with transformations where powerful systems gave way to new ones that seemed unimaginable at the time. We must therefore consider the possibility that capitalism is a historical phase, not the endpoint.
As the 1940s approached, huge economic and social changes were underway. The chaos and destruction of the Second World War, combined with years of high unemployment, shook faith in the seemingly unbreakable rules of capitalist enterprise. Factories that once confidently employed thousands now struggled to find profitable markets. Entire classes of people, skilled or unskilled, could no longer find stable work. It started to seem that capitalism’s golden days might be behind it. This did not mean society would end, but rather that society might rearrange itself under a different blueprint. Perhaps, just as previous systems had crumbled when they could no longer ensure prosperity and stability, capitalism’s own structural weaknesses were now pushing it toward a similar fate.
We must remember that no economic system is immune to change. In earlier epochs, empires crumbled when they failed to provide their people with purpose and security. Ancient Athens, imperial Rome, and late medieval Europe all witnessed transformations in how work, ownership, and social status were organized. Each time, stagnation and unrest signaled a major shift. With capitalism under strain in the mid-twentieth century, the signs pointed toward something new emerging. Widespread unemployment, mounting public dissatisfaction, and the growing role of governments in directing economic life indicated that the old way of doing business—private ownership, unlimited competition, and profit-first priorities—might not stay intact. It’s as if society looked at capitalism and quietly began searching for another path, one where different groups would hold power and direct the course of industry.
Some might have clung to the notion that capitalism was as natural as the seasons, that it reflected human nature at its core. But human nature has shown remarkable adaptability. Throughout history, people have lived happily under different economic rules, adjusting to the conditions around them. Just as individuals learned to trade shells or precious metals long before modern banks existed, people can adapt to new ways of producing and distributing wealth. By the early 1940s, observers like Burnham recognized that capitalism—far from an eternal force—was facing profound challenges. The critical question wasn’t if it could go on forever, but rather what would take its place. If mass unemployment and structural inefficiencies were capitalism’s signals of decline, then these signs surely meant that a significant societal remodeling was on the horizon.
Chapter 3: Why Communism’s Bright Promise Failed to Become a Global Replacement.
As capitalism’s future looked uncertain, many thought communism might be its successor. Communism’s idea was simple yet radical: create a classless society where the tools of production belong to everyone and where cooperation replaces competition. To its supporters, it promised fairness, universal participation, and an end to the stark inequalities of capitalism. To its critics, it seemed a threat to individual freedom, property rights, and personal ambition. Whatever one’s view, the twentieth century placed communism in the spotlight, especially with the Russian Revolution. After 1917, many imagined that this experiment would spread like wildfire, reaching places like France, England, and the United States. Yet, decades later, the communist spark failed to ignite the Western world. The reasons for this are revealing and shaped the trajectory of global politics.
The dream of communism was that without private property, classes would vanish. Everyone would be equal, and government would represent the true will of the people. Yet, when one looked closely at the Soviet Union—the poster child of the communist experiment—things seemed off. Instead of producing a paradise of worker equality, the USSR formed new hierarchies. A small percentage of the population enjoyed a disproportionately large share of wealth, influence, and comfort. Ordinary workers, supposedly in control, found themselves with limited freedoms and fewer democratic rights than many capitalist countries offered. Rather than eliminating class distinctions, the Soviet system introduced a different kind of ruling elite—party officials, top bureaucrats, and high-ranking decision-makers who lived far better than average citizens.
This situation showed that removing private property alone did not guarantee a fair and democratic order. Despite the initial revolutionary enthusiasm, over time the Soviet state became more controlling and less tolerant of dissent. Political opposition was crushed, alternative voices silenced, and any genuine worker control over factories or distribution was lost. Schools, which were once meant to level the playing field, began to reflect these inequalities again. Even clothing and uniforms revealed one’s status, just as in older, class-based societies. All of this proved that transitioning from capitalism to a truly classless society was much harder in practice than in theory. The Soviet experience demonstrated that communism, at least as it was tried in Russia, could not deliver on its noble promise of total equality and freedom.
For the West, watching the Soviet experiment fail so dramatically was a sobering lesson. Those who hoped communism would replace capitalism had to accept that the journey wasn’t straightforward. The idea that the entire capitalist world would one day simply flip into a perfect communist system began to look unrealistic. Instead, the Soviet story suggested that communism’s rigid approach often replaced one form of unequal control with another. This realization forced observers to reconsider what might emerge after capitalism. If it wasn’t going to be the worker-led communism of pure equality, then what would rise instead? This question drove some thinkers to consider other scenarios—ones that didn’t rely on private property but still involved a new elite, skilled not in owning but in managing the vast machinery of economic life.
Chapter 4: Managers Rise as the Surprising New Masters of a Changing World.
As both capitalism and communism revealed their flaws, a new candidate emerged to shape future societies: the managers. Unlike capitalists, who owned big factories and used that ownership to secure their status, managers were experts in organizing production, directing large teams, and making complex decisions. They were not just figureheads. They actually understood how to keep intricate systems running—how to coordinate supply chains, maintain machinery, balance budgets, and ensure that goods kept flowing. Managers drew their power not from personal property rights, but from the ability to operate industrial and governmental machinery smoothly. In the mid-twentieth century, this group already existed, but their role was expanding. As states took on more economic functions, these managers and bureaucrats became the real actors behind the scenes, pulling the levers of production.
A managerial revolution meant that the control of the economy would shift away from owners who merely provided capital toward those who had the specialized knowledge to run large systems. This was different from the communist ideal of handing power to all workers equally. Instead, a new hierarchy formed based on skills in administration, planning, and technical know-how. Managers would not necessarily say, We own this factory because, in many cases, the state would formally own the production facilities. Instead, managers would say, We run this place; we decide where the resources go, how the workers are deployed, what gets produced. And as the state increasingly absorbed industries—be it railways, factories, or energy utilities—those with managerial skills would find their influence spreading everywhere.
One might wonder how a ruling class can exist without property rights. But social dominance does not require personal ownership of factories or farmland. It requires control—effective control over resources, opportunities, and people’s roles in the production chain. Managers would have that control. They would stand at the junction where decisions are made: who gets hired, what gets produced, how profits or surpluses are distributed. In such a scenario, managers effectively become the new elite. Instead of a small number of wealthy capitalists holding the reins, an entire layer of well-trained administrators, executives, and technical leaders would shape economic life. They would grant themselves and their peers larger shares of whatever wealth the system produced, reinforcing their position as the people who truly matter in this emerging order.
This transformation didn’t have to occur through a dramatic uprising. No violent revolution was needed for managerial power to take root. Rather, it could creep in gradually, as governments took on new responsibilities and private owners lost their grip. Every time the state nationalized a key industry, every time new regulations required expert administrators, every time complex organizations demanded specialists to keep them afloat, managers gained a bit more influence. By the 1940s, this was not mere speculation. Countries around the globe were already moving in that direction. Some nations were further along than others, but the trend seemed unmistakable. The path toward a managerial age was being laid piece by piece, as intricate organizations—both public and private—learned to rely on professional managers to hold everything together.
Chapter 5: How Complexity and Technology Forged the Managerial Elite’s Stronghold.
Before modern times, a wealthy businessman might own a small workshop and directly supervise a handful of workers. Decision-making was simple because the scale was small. But with the rise of massive rail networks, colossal steel mills, sprawling corporations, and international trade routes, the complexity soared. No single person, however wealthy, could personally manage every detail. The demands of the industrial age required technical experts, middle managers, planning committees, financial officers, and skilled administrators just to keep the enterprise running. This shift in scale meant that knowledge and managerial skill became just as important—perhaps even more so—than the wealth of the owners. Over time, what truly mattered was the ability to navigate organizational charts, balance production schedules, and orchestrate thousands of employees toward a common goal.
As industries expanded, the individual capitalist who both owned and managed his enterprise became a rarity. In the earliest phases of capitalism, the owner was often the manager. But as companies grew into giants, day-to-day control slipped from the hands of owners into the hands of paid professionals—engineers, administrators, planners—who made the entire operation function. Even if the owners tried to remain in command, the sheer complexity often forced them to delegate decisions to experts. Meanwhile, shares of large corporations were spread among countless investors who had no direct say in management. This diluted ownership made it even easier for professional managers to rise above shareholders, guiding the strategic decisions of large firms. They became indispensable, their expertise forming the backbone of modern economic life.
In effect, the economic environment turned into a vast machinery that no single capitalist could handle alone. Like a giant ship that needs an entire crew of navigators, engineers, and maintenance workers, the modern economy needed managers at every level. Without them, the system would grind to a halt. The growing complexity meant that management became a specialized skill, and those who mastered it gained influence that mere ownership could not guarantee. Thus, a new social layer formed, standing between the masses of workers and the dwindling number of old-style capitalists. These managers understood the technicalities of production, had the ability to adjust to changing market conditions, and knew how to keep large organizations stable. This knowledge ensured their rising status as a distinct and powerful class.
The technological leaps of the twentieth century, from advanced machinery to sophisticated communication networks, further strengthened managers’ grip. After all, who would operate these novel systems? Who would interpret complex data, ensure proper maintenance of new technologies, or plan how to incorporate scientific breakthroughs into production lines? It certainly wasn’t the average capitalist investor, who might only hold stocks and bonds. Rather, it was the managers, the trained professionals who could speak the language of logistics, engineering, and organizational science. As technology advanced, it wrapped the economic system in even thicker layers of complexity, reinforcing the importance of those who knew how to control it. Eventually, this managerial group began to assume dominance, not by force of arms, but by virtue of their irreplaceable skills and responsibilities.
Chapter 6: Governments Expanding Their Reach and the Rise of the Bureaucratic Manager.
At first, governments were limited players in economic affairs. They set rules, collected taxes, and occasionally funded infrastructure. Under capitalism, the private sector usually led, inventing products and expanding markets. But as crises emerged—wars, depressions, massive unemployment—governments stepped in more forcefully, taking on roles previously left to private hands. From postal services to national railroads, from healthcare systems to utilities, governments began running vital segments of the economy. This development was not confined to authoritarian states; even democratic nations began overseeing industries to ensure stability, growth, and social welfare. In doing so, they relied on civil servants, administrators, and policy experts. These government bureaucrats functioned much like managers, coordinating immense enterprises and controlling how resources were allocated. With each new responsibility, government involvement deepened, and bureaucratic managers gained more leverage.
As the state’s reach grew, the distinction between public and private power blurred. Both arenas required skilled managers to plan budgets, recruit talent, negotiate contracts, and streamline processes. The growing web of government agencies, commissions, and departments needed dependable administrators to handle everything from land allocation to economic planning. While capitalists saw their private empires trimmed by regulations and state takeovers, bureaucratic managers solidified their positions. State-run industries offered a new environment where control did not hinge on property deeds but on organizational authority. Over time, these government managers became the gatekeepers of resources and opportunities for millions of citizens, distributing jobs, housing, and services. By the early twentieth century, the state’s economic involvement was no longer a minor detail; it was a defining feature of modern life.
Consider the magnitude of a state’s influence. In some cases, half or more of a nation’s population might depend on government funds—through employment, welfare benefits, public services, or contracts with state agencies. With such reach, the managers within government institutions effectively guided not just a few industries, but the entire economic environment. Whether it was building infrastructure, regulating markets, or ensuring national security, these managers held the keys to society’s future. They decided where to build roads, how to fund schools, and which industries deserved support. As they did so, their own status and privileges increased. They were not officially labeled owners, but they were the decision-makers who shaped everyone’s daily life, setting the course for entire nations.
The significance of these developments became more obvious as old capitalists—those who once proudly held property titles—found themselves overshadowed. The new rulers didn’t need to own anything privately. By controlling the institutions that owned everything collectively, they wielded power just as effectively, if not more so. In fact, their power was often more secure because it was tied to the intricate workings of a whole society, not just a factory or two. As the number of bureaucrats and managers grew, the balance of power tipped further. Those who understood the machine of government, who knew how to navigate its systems and influence decisions, gained a level of authority no capitalist of the old school could match. Ultimately, the lines between private and public authority blurred, leaving managers firmly in control.
Chapter 7: The Managerial Revolution Across Different Countries and Political Systems.
The shift toward managerial power was not confined to one region or political system. While the Soviet Union’s model differed in style from Western democracies, both showcased increasing reliance on skilled administrators who organized entire economies. In the Soviet Union, the state owned almost everything, and bureaucrats became supremely important. In the United States, capitalists still existed, but government agencies and large corporations both leaned on managers for critical decision-making. Across Europe, war recovery efforts brought public planning boards, reconstruction committees, and state-owned enterprises to the fore. Everywhere one looked, societies depended on people trained in administration, economics, engineering, and political policy to set the direction. Whether under socialist banners or democratic constitutions, the pattern repeated: managers were moving into the driver’s seat of national life.
This widespread phenomenon sprang from common pressures—economic uncertainty, technological complexity, and the need for long-term planning. After huge wars and economic collapses, leaving everything to market forces seemed risky. Governments felt pressure to guarantee employment, maintain stability, and steer economies toward future growth. To do this, they needed experts who could crunch numbers, analyze data, and coordinate large projects involving multiple industries and sectors. Such managerial talent was often rare, which made it valuable. As demand for these specialists rose, their influence and social standing soared. Whether in France, rebuilding its infrastructure, or Britain, nationalizing key industries, the trend looked similar: managers were becoming indispensable brokers between the public interest, political leadership, and the economy’s productive core.
Even in countries where ideological conflicts raged—where debates over socialism, capitalism, or mixed economies drew heated protests—the underlying reality remained. The complexity of modern life required organization and expert coordination. As old-fashioned private owners struggled to navigate these intricate systems, managers stepped in with calmer confidence and technical skill. They were the ones who could implement regulations, direct production lines, and ensure that factories did not run off track. Ideological banners mattered less than the plain facts on the ground: running a modern economy required a class of people who knew how to administer it effectively. This new breed transcended political lines, appearing wherever large-scale production and coordinated planning took hold.
In that sense, the managerial revolution was not simply about a particular party seizing power. It was about a structural shift in how societies functioned. People with managerial skills rose to prominence because they fit the needs of the time. Countries ravaged by war needed efficient rebuilding, sprawling companies needed rational oversight, and restless populations demanded security and predictability. As the managerial class provided solutions—or at least manageable processes—their position strengthened. Slowly, the world drifted away from systems where a few owners at the top dictated terms. Instead, a complex web of managers and administrators used their knowledge to navigate challenges. This quiet revolution reshaped politics and economics worldwide, giving a professional managerial class a kind of influence that no earlier ruling group had quite possessed.
Chapter 8: The Gradual Erosion of Private Ownership and the Stride Toward Collective Control.
For centuries, private ownership of factories, farmland, and resources formed the backbone of capitalist power. Owning something meant controlling its fate. But as the twentieth century progressed, this private grip began to loosen. Governments purchased or seized certain industries, not necessarily to create a workers’ paradise, but to ensure stability and growth. In doing so, they effectively moved the center of gravity from individual hands to collective institutions. This meant that decision-making started to reside less in the counting rooms of private owners and more in the offices of state planners, corporate boards filled with professional managers, and advisory committees staffed by experts. Ownership itself became less relevant than the ability to manage, coordinate, and direct large operations. Control replaced ownership as the ticket to real influence.
This shift did not happen overnight, nor was it always explicit. Often, it was a practical response to pressing problems. When a railway went bankrupt, a government might step in to maintain essential transportation links. When a critical industry failed to provide enough jobs, a public agency might reorganize it under a new structure. Each time this happened, the significance of private property weakened. Now, if managers could operate such organizations effectively, they became the ones who decided how resources were used. Even in privately owned corporations, the multitude of shareholders scattered around the country had little direct say over day-to-day operations. Professional executives and planners called the shots. As the generations passed, people grew accustomed to the idea that management, not property deeds, was what guided the economy.
The result was a peculiar form of collective control, though not collective in the sense of everyone having a direct vote. Instead, control became more impersonal, lodged within committees, departments, and boards rather than a single capitalist’s estate. Meanwhile, the public, often unaware of the exact process, gradually accepted that experts and officials managed their utilities, transportation, and even portions of the manufacturing sector. This arrangement favored those with the talents to navigate bureaucratic structures and complex technical challenges. Such individuals need not have inherited wealth; they simply had to acquire the right skills and climb organizational ladders. Thus, while personal ownership receded, managerial influence soared, leading to a new form of inequality—one not based solely on wealth, but on access to administrative power and privileged decision-making positions.
It’s important to note that this transformation did not promise perfect fairness or equality. While it may have reduced the blatant inequalities of old-style capitalism—where a handful of owners became immensely rich—it replaced them with a subtler hierarchy. Managers and bureaucrats still enjoyed special privileges, better living conditions, and more influence over national direction than ordinary citizens. Yet, this arrangement seemed more in tune with the challenges of a modern, interconnected, and technologically advanced world. Running a giant steel plant or orchestrating a national healthcare system required coordination, planning, and expertise. As property-based empires faded, these new systems of control set the stage for a global order run by those who could master the complexities of large organizations—those we call the managers.
Chapter 9: Peering into the Future as Managerial Power Tightens Its Global Grip.
With all these developments, what does the future hold? If capitalism’s dominance is waning, and communism failed to deliver a classless society, we are left with the managerial path. Governments, large corporations, and international organizations now rely on skilled administrators who direct the flow of goods, money, and ideas. Tomorrow’s world may see these managers refining their methods, using data, advanced analytics, and artificial intelligence to optimize productivity. The coming years might reveal even more ways that decision-making moves away from individual property owners and into the hands of policy experts, strategists, and coordinating bodies. Whether this leads to fairer societies or simply a different hierarchy remains unclear. But the pattern suggests that the rules of the global game are being written by those with managerial expertise.
A future shaped by managers could mean greater stability. After all, knowledgeable professionals can guide society through complex challenges—climate change, resource scarcity, or shifting population demographics—by carefully planning and allocating resources. On the other hand, it may also produce societies where power is held by those who excel at navigating bureaucracies rather than those who cultivate visionary ideals. In such a world, the risk is that people might feel disconnected from decision-making processes that unfold behind closed doors, in meeting rooms filled with technical jargon and spreadsheets. Still, this might be the price societies pay for efficiency and order, as the demands of complexity require specialized minds.
One thing is certain: The transition toward managerial dominance is more than a passing trend. It arises from deep structural changes in how industries, governments, and technologies work. Anyone who wants to understand modern economics or politics must recognize the shift from personal property rights to collective institutional control. We must acknowledge the growing power of those who can interpret complicated information, anticipate market shifts, and maintain intricate systems. If capitalism’s era was built on individual entrepreneurs and private investors, the managerial era is built on networks of professionals who translate big ideas into organizational decisions. This is not necessarily an improvement or a downfall—it is a transformation that reflects the complexity of our evolving world.
As the managerial revolution settles in, it influences every corner of life. Education systems might emphasize organizational theory and technical proficiency. Cultural values may shift toward respecting the calm, methodical planner instead of the daring, risk-taking entrepreneur. Citizens might look to panels of experts rather than charismatic tycoons for guidance. Over time, future historians might mark the early twentieth century as the turning point, the moment we stepped from a world dominated by capitalist property owners into one guided by managerial elites. By observing the subtle yet powerful changes analyzed by thinkers like James Burnham, we can appreciate how societies reinvent themselves. The world we know tomorrow may not reflect the dreams of communists or the traditions of old capitalists, but rather the steady hand of those who manage.
All about the Book
Explore James Burnham’s groundbreaking theories in ‘The Managerial Revolution, ‘ revealing the emergence of a new managerial class shaping modern society and redefining power dynamics in economic and political realms.
James Burnham was a prominent American political theorist and philosopher, recognized for his influential works on power structures and managerialism that continue to resonate in contemporary political discourse.
Business Executives, Political Scientists, Economists, Management Consultants, Sociologists
Political Analysis, Economic Theory, Management Strategies, Social Dynamics, Historical Studies
Power Shifts in Society, Influence of Management on Politics, Economic Structures and Their Evolution, The Rise of the Managerial Class
In a society where the managerial class occupies the central position, the true nature of power is not merely the ownership of property but the organization of processes and human resources.
George Orwell, Milton Friedman, Noam Chomsky
National Book Award, George Polk Award, Thomas Jefferson Medal
1. What defines the role of a modern manager? #2. How does managerial power differ from traditional authority? #3. In what ways do managers shape organizational structures? #4. What factors led to the rise of managerial classes? #5. How do managers impact economic decision-making processes? #6. What is the relationship between management and ownership? #7. How does bureaucracy influence modern management practices? #8. What role does technology play in management evolution? #9. How can managers adapt to shifting societal demands? #10. What challenges face managers in a globalized economy? #11. How does the concept of the managerial class relate? #12. In what ways does management drive organizational efficiency? #13. How does managerial ideology manifest in workplaces? #14. What are the implications of managerialism for democracy? #15. How do managers navigate conflicts of interest in business? #16. How has the definition of leadership evolved over time? #17. What lessons can be drawn from historical managerial trends? #18. How do managers balance profitability and ethical considerations? #19. What impact do managers have on labor relations today? #20. How can understanding management theory improve business practices?
Managerial Revolution, James Burnham, management theory, business strategy, organizational change, leadership, political theory, business administration, economic policy, 20th century management, corporate governance, socio-political analysis
https://www.amazon.com/Managerial-Revolution-James-Burnham/dp/1641150846
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