Global Company Towns

Open PDF in Browser: Trang (Mae) Nguyen,* Global Company Towns

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The employer provided everything—wages, housing, post office, parks, and canteens. Such a model of the “company town,” where a single corporation dominates in multiple capacities as employer, landlord, service provider, and quasi‑regulator over a dwelling area, has endured across borders and time. It encapsulates textile mills in eighteenth century England and coal towns in early twentieth century United States just as fittingly as it does today’s “supply chain cities” in Asia, Africa, and elsewhere.

From Pullman’s iconic model town in Illinois to Foxconn’s “forbidden iPhone city” in Shenzhen, this Article anchors the business model of company towns as a window into expressions of corporate private governance during pivotal moments of industrialization. Despite the vastly different time and space, these industrial enclaves share some remarkable similarities, motivated by large‑scale capital accumulation and demand for efficient labor management. Significantly, each creates a comprehensive corporate control order that extends corporate norms beyond the workspace deep into workers’ private lives. But unlike the old towns of the industrializing West, which largely served a single, vertically integrated conglomerate, today’s factory towns are transboundary, interconnected, and designed to take advantage of various legal regimes, most notably trade, tariff, investment, and labor laws. Under the control of transnational, first‑tier suppliers, modern towns, more so than ever, act as “legal entrepôts”—made by law and formative of various sources of law, including sub‑national, national, and transnational.

In drawing connections between past company towns and today’s factory towns, this Article reveals the physical and legal blueprints of this uniquely potent form of corporate power over the longue durée. This broad view underscores the complex and shifting nature of corporate private governance, including how modern factory towns act as sites of regulatory fragmentation as well as harmonization and contestation. At the same time, the transboundary and horizontal linkages among industrial clusters can open up new opportunities for strategic coordination among workers who may be scattered around the world but connected through a global supply base. At a time of changing geopolitics and renewed focus on industrial development, this Article offers a timely study on the pathologies of and hopes for modern company towns.

Introduction

The employer provided everything—wages, housing, post offices, parks, and canteens.^[1] Such a model of the “company town,”^[2] where a single corporation dominates in multiple capacities as employer, landlord, service provider, and quasi‑regulator over a dwelling area, has endured across borders and time. It can just as fittingly portray Pullman, Illinois (automobile) and Homestead, Pennsylvania (steel) in early twentieth century America, as it does today’s Foxconn and other “supply chain cities” in Asia, Africa, and elsewhere. No matter the setting, certain features remain constant, notably the expansive articulation of corporate power through blurring lines between work and personal space.

This Article anchors the business model of company towns as a window into expressions of corporate private governance during pivotal moments of industrialization. First‑generation company towns such as Pullman, Illinois and Port Sunlight, England emerged in the industrial eras in the United States and Europe, while modern company towns—today’s supply chain cities—have moved abroad as part of a global movement for “made in the world” dispersed manufacturing.^[3] While the fundamental qualities of company towns—the time and space, the companies, the states, the products, and production process—have significantly shifted, many key features remain parallel, notably large‑scale economic activities, comprehensive infrastructure planning, and tight control over workers’ lives.^[4] Such similarities are not a coincidence, but the result of a global economic integration process that prioritized efficient, large‑scale productivity. Put differently, the company town business model, then and now, facilitates a distinct mode of capital accumulation and labor management that caters to industrial development. The accompanying expansive corporate control order, facilitated through contract law, property law, international economic law, and regulatory delegation, to name just a few, is thus sanctioned by development policies and legitimized by industrial interests.^[5]

A closer examination also reveals significant differences in how past and current company towns operate. While industrial towns of the old West largely served single, vertically integrated corporations, modern factory towns, as demanded by global supply chains, are transboundary, interconnected, and designed to take advantage of various legal regimes, most notably trade, tariff, investment, and labor laws. Under the control of transnational, first‑tier suppliers, modern company towns, more so than ever, act as “legal entrepôts”—made by law and formative of law.^[6] Significantly, as sites of implementation, modern supply chain cities can facilitate “regulatory fragmentation”—that is, transnational suppliers can choose to “fracture” production lines to comply with stringent standards only where required, while leaving the rest of their supply chains intact.^[7] They can also act as sites of standard setting’s harmonization and contestation, accommodating and diffusing competing standards as part of economic networks and production processes.^[8] Such regulation‑mediating functions of industrial towns thus hold significant normative implications for policymakers, at a time when changing geopolitics and renewed focus on industrial development create new, rapid demands for industrial sites in the United States and around the globe.^[9]

There is some hope. The transboundary, porous nature of global supply chains, while enabling the extraterritorial reach of corporate private governance, also presents new opportunities for transnational solidarity.^[10] As examples from Yue Yuen and Tesla demonstrate, when acting in concert, workers from different factories, countries, and even industries, all connected through a global supply base, can create a collective force with the potential to resist Goliath‑like corporate powers.^[11] Ultimately, to build better industrial towns, the complex, multidimensional, multi‑jurisdictional nature of global supply chains demands a similarly multifaceted response—with coordination from regulators, private governance, consumers, and labor networks.

This Article makes several contributions. First, conceptually, it draws connections between two phenomena—past company towns during the industrial heyday of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries and modern factory towns in global supply chains. In so doing, it traces the shifting nature of a uniquely potent form of corporate power, where deliberate physical and legal infrastructure facilitate a corporate control order that blurs the line between workspace and workers’ private lives. Second, descriptively, this Article paints a vivid portrait of how this corporate control order functions. It underscores the roles of law—including contracts, property, and international economic law—in creating issue linkage and providing a “carve‑out” space for company towns to thrive, insulated from broader legal frameworks. Finally, this Article contemplates two particular normative and policy implications of industrial towns. First is the town’s role as a legal entrepôt, where laws and norms, like other commodities, flow through and are shaped within the physical space. Second is the need for transnational solidarity among workers, separated by factories and borders but connected through supply chains.

The remainder of the Article advances in three Parts. Part I provides a primer on “classic” company towns rooted in Western industrial policies. These towns were governed by a corporate control order that emphasized physical, resource, and moral and social constraints. Part II examines the internationalization and proliferation of modern company towns. This development is intimately linked to the rise of a crop of multinational enterprises created by global production—transnational suppliers—as well as the creation of special economic zones and the horizontal networks of global supply chains. Part III turns to the normative and policy implications, including the roles of modern towns as entrepôt sites of norms fragmentation and contestation. The Article concludes with a small ray of hope—that is, the potential for strategic coordination among labor networks, thanks in part to the transboundary nature and horizontal linkage of global company towns.

I. The Classic Company Towns

Part I lays out the background on the “classic” company towns, generally associated with the Industrial Revolutions during the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries in Europe and North America.^[12] It first explores the distinctiveness of company towns by distilling two key features that set them apart from other towns and enterprises. First and foremost, the primary purpose of company towns was, and is, economic activities. As one scholar puts it, they were “physical expressions of economic enterprise.”^[13] Second, company towns facilitated expansive control that spread through and blurred the lines between work and personal space—what I conceptualize as a corporate control order. This control order was enabled by the multifaceted roles of corporations, most visibly as employers, but also as landlords, property owners, and often quasi‑regulators of the town’s life. Functionally, the control order manifested itself through at least three mechanisms: the physical linkage between workplace and housing (spatial control); restrictions over workers’ income and expenses (financial constraint); and tight monitoring and regulations over private activities (social and moral control). As we shall see in Part II, these key features have translated well into modern times, despite very different settings.

A. Economic Raison d’Être

If “seeing like a state” was about the statecraft of rendering societies’ complexity into “legible” patterns through bureaucratic administration,^[14] company towns are, arguably, the craft for seeing and planning like an industrialist. Though company towns are generally associated with the Industrial Revolution, similar spatial arrangements have existed long before such time. An early example was archeological evidence of workers’ villages and dormitory‑like structures built around the Pyramid of Giza, estimated to house and feed thousands of slaves and their families during its construction.^[15] Slavery itself can be thought of as a form of company town through its extensive use of the built environment to house and control slave labor.^[16] The classic company towns, as emerged during the Industrial Revolution in the West, are broadly defined as “communities dominated by a single company, typically focused on one industry.”^[17] This domination started in the towns’ very names, often eponymous to the particular companies or entrepreneurs (most often men) that founded them: Pullman, Illinois for George Pullman and the Pullman’s Palace Car Company;^[18] Lowell, Massachusetts for Francis Cabot Lowell and the “Lowell system” of textile manufacturing;^[19] Hershey, Pennsylvania for the Hershey’s Chocolate Company, whose founder, Milton Hershey, aspired to create a utopian workplace.^[20] Beyond a general definition, however, company towns were as diverse as their industries, designs, locations, and the ethos of their founders. Resource‑extraction towns supporting coal mining and metal ores often sprung up in remote areas, necessitated by the need to stay close to natural resources.^[21] Light manufacturing company towns, such as those connected to the textile industry, may have begun as small towns that expanded alongside a growing corporation that served as the primary employer of the town.^[22] Either way, it was critical to secure housing near the work site, especially in remote locations, to attract and retain labor, reduce turnover, and maximize efficiency.^[23]

It was this peculiar arrangement—where work lives and private lives were deliberately, physically entwined—that defined the towns. It started with the material landscapes, so clearly existing to support the production process. The heart of the enterprise, whether a factory, a mine, or a mill, marked the dominant feature of the town.^[24] In Lowell, Massachusetts—famed as the United States’s first company town—the spatial settlement mirrored business hierarchy. The colossal brick mills, “[l]ike a medieval fortress or great cathedral,” towered over those underneath.^[25] The corporate owners lived elsewhere; managers stayed in the area closest to the town, while workers lived adjacent to the mills, divided between housing blocks reserved for skilled workers and dormitories for the dominantly female workforce.^[26] Buildings were arranged within rectangular boundaries to maximize the hydraulic power necessary to churn the mills’ vanes.^[27] Meanwhile, a bell tower rose from the central courtyard, chiming six times a day to signal work and break hours—evoking images of worshipping calls to the “cathedral of industry,” or, less romanticized, a new world of regimented, commoditized time.^[28]

Extractive industries likewise featured highly hierarchical settlements. In coal and mining industries the temporary and isolated nature of the work sites meant that onsite housing was often the only option and a necessity to attract labor.^[29] There managers were usually stationed within walking distance to the mines in case urgent needs arose.^[30] Miners’ dwellings, arranged further out, often took the form of detached or semi‑detached houses in order to attract families, reflecting management’s belief that men who had loved ones to support would be less likely to quit.^[31]

Indeed, employee retention was so central to the business model that many company towns strived to cultivate the image of a “model town,” complete with public amenities and social programs.^[32] Companies built not only housing but also stores, parks, roads, churches, and medical clinics—some or all of which may be owned by the business enterprises.^[33] Some companies also paid for sewage, garbage collecting, and gas—”amenities only the most affluent suburbs of the period could afford.”^[34] Pullman, Chicago even featured a company‑operated sewage truck farm, which disposed of waste by land purification and used the resulting fertilized soil to grow crops.^[35] The Pullman fire department apparently provided such exceptional service that the neighboring town, Hyde Park, paid it a fee to serve Hyde Park’s own communities.^[36] Equally attractive were the towns’ social institutions such as community centers, churches, libraries, and clubhouses that hosted events, concerts, and educational programs.^[37] The lively atmosphere in one such town, Lowell, so impressed an English visitor, Charles Dickens, that he described at length how the young women who worked there earned wages four times higher than their European counterparts.^[38] These mill girls, he noted, had access to pianos and library books, and even produced their own magazines featuring poems, essays, and “stories of millworker life.”^[39] Dickens’s endorsement aside, access to company‑provided amenities was not always free or equitable. By one example, the extravagantly furnished Pullman library had a cap on its membership and charged a subscription fee, imposed apparently not to gain a profit, but to give members “a sense of ownership,” so explained a manager.^[40]

Beyond any benevolent motives, business owners certainly had ample incentives to keep workers content.^[41] Towns with on‑site amenities and a sense of community created through social groups and religious services were better able to attract and retain workers to an otherwise unattractive hard‑labor life.^[42] This was especially true in industries such as mining, timber, and construction, where the work was often dangerous, isolating, and in remote locations.^[43] Providing robust activities and entertainment to keep workers on‑site also lowered the risk of off‑site temptations, consistent with the paternalistic attitude that companies held over their workforce.^[44]

A town founder’s desire for legacy (or lack thereof) also heavily influenced the town’s development. Aspiring to design a “model town,” George Pullman hired architects and landscapers to construct Victorian‑style homes, paved streets, and orderly greeneries in hope that an “‘ordered and beautiful’ environment complemented by public and community facilities would ‘uplift’ its residents and solve the company’s employee problems.”^[45] The Boott Cotton Mill seized on the imagination of an “idyllic and inviting” New England town, featuring white cottages, picket fences, and extensive landscaping.^[46] Ultimately, it was perhaps a mix of these motives—industrialist planning, exploitation, utopian visions, and desire for legacy—that culminated in company towns’ corporate control orders, as explored in the next Section.

B. The Corporate Control Order

Corporate dominance in company towns—what one may call the corporate control order—was pervasive and multifaceted, enabled by the enterprise’s omnipresent role as employer, landlord, amenity provider, and rule‑maker of the town. As one historian aptly noted, in company towns “[w]ork relations on the floor were inseparable from the dynamics that played out on the streets of the village—or even, in some instances, at the kitchen table.”^[47] At least three mechanisms were at play: housing and work arrangements, wage and lease structures, and activity monitoring. While somewhat overlapping and not cleanly delineated, they represented, in broad strokes, company towns’ spatial control, resource constraints, and social and moral regulations that, together, systemically extended corporate norms deep into workers’ private lives. This Section delves into each practice during the heydays of company towns.

1. Spatial Control

The physical architecture of company towns, so comprehensive in its fusion of capitalist efficiency with labor management, exemplifies legal scholars’ conception of “infrastructure as regulation”—that is, spatial constructions that shape behaviors and create social ordering.^[48] As a legal scholar explained, “the infrastructure itself comes to define how the law really works and to shape what legal rules and policies are even attempted.”^[49] The idea of infrastructure as regulation is potently reflected in company towns’ architecture and design. Many distinctive features of the towns, such as the deliberate proximity between the workplace and dwellings, workers’ lack of choice of where to live (whether by the remoteness of the landscape or by company policies), and mechanisms to control laborer’s time, were effectively designed to shape workers’ behaviors.^[50]

The physical setup privileged skilled labor and managerial status, while also perpetuating a hierarchy based on race, gender, and immigration status.^[51] Coal camps in Colorado, for example, allocated better housing to Anglo‑American and Northern European managers, while Southern European, African American, and Hispanic workers each lived in separate designated areas.^[52] Segregated housing for minority groups, in particular African Americans, suffered from worse quality and lack of amenities.^[53] In textile mills, while male corporate executives and managers benefited from better accommodations, the dominantly female workers lived together in company‑owned boardinghouses managed by patronesses.^[54] In mining and lumber towns, Asian immigrants were hired as domestic workers for the families of corporate managers and as the towns’ maintenance staff.^[55] As a result, such allocation of housing, jobs, and services (or lack thereof), while based on merit‑based classifications like job titles and functions, also perpetuated a particular racial, gender, and status ordering within company towns.^[56] Even then, the relatively higher wages in company towns were attractive to cash‑strapped minority and migrant groups.^[57] Similarly attractive was the immediate availability of housing and the ability to buy on credit in company stores—though, as we will see later on, this convenience itself was a form of financial control.^[58]

The towns’ regulatory power manifested not only through the hierarchy created within the walls but also through the exclusion of what it deemed “unwelcome” such as religious and union activities. ^[59] Here, the towns’ spatial boundaries acted as a natural fortress. Employers such as Pittsburgh Coal, by one example, restricted outside visitors, limiting access to only employee families.^[60] Coal companies in Pennsylvania and West Virginia—known for their staunch anti‑union stance—even hired law enforcement and private guards to keep out labor organizers, going so far as blocking strangers at train stations and questioning their presence.^[61] In the United States, disputes regarding access to company towns coalesced around the issue of free speech and the First Amendment. In a seminal case, Marsh v. Alabama, the U.S. Supreme Court held that Marsh, a Jehovah’s Witness, had free speech rights to distribute religious literature in a company town in Chickasaw, Alabama.^[62] Because the town had “all the characteristics of any other American town,” the Court held that it functioned like a public town, and thus was subject to the ambit of First Amendment rights.^[63] Though the Court’s later jurisprudence rejected expanding Marsh’s “public function” doctrine to other contexts, the case still stands as a limit on American company towns’ ability to regulate speech when they also function as quasi‑public regulators.^[64]

2. Financial Constraints

Financial constraints, manifested through linkages between workers’ income and expenses, acted as another potent source of control. Contract law, through employment agreements and leases, acted as the enforcer. Unsurprisingly, lease agreements for company‑owned housing often heavily favored the landlord‑employer, including provisions such as rent deduction and easy eviction.^[65] Some leases, for example, allowed for the direct deduction of monthly rent from paychecks, sometimes amounting to nearly a third of such income.^[66] When the practice of direct rent deduction was outlawed,^[67] companies like Pullman figured out a workaround: Instead of paying wages as one payment, it issued employees two checks—one in the exact amount of their rent—with the expectation that workers would immediately sign that check over to the Pullman Bank, which doubled as the company’s collecting agent.^[68] Other leases allowed for immediate eviction upon loss of job and space repossession without proceedings.^[69] In Pennsylvania coal towns, for example, being fired from the Cambria Iron Works company resulted in an immediate eviction from company‑owned dorms, as well as inclusion in a company‑issued public notice as “not employable.”^[70] In 1865, faced with labor strikes for higher wages, coal companies in Tioga, Pennsylvania lobbied the state legislature to change the status quo eviction law from requiring ninety days’ notice to ten days.^[71] Under this law, coal companies could initiate evictions if workers failed to uphold their labor contract, that is, failed to work and went on strike—a blatant form of retaliation.^[72]

The use of “scrip”—a form of credit redeemable only at the company‑owned stores—was another potent form of financial control. Employers in coal and steel mining commonly paid their workers not in cash but in scrip, such that workers’ wages could only be spent at the company stores on often overpriced goods.^[73] Employees who wanted to quit or needed goods not provided by the company stores would need to exchange scrips into cash, sometimes at a discount as steep as 40 percent.^[74] Until it was outlawed in the late nineteenth century,^[75] the scrip payment system effectively ensured the companies’ monopoly on workers’ earnings and spending.^[76] “I owe my soul to the company store”—as famously sang Tennessee Ernie Ford—indeed reflected the ethos of financial dependency and systemic oppression experienced by workers during these eras.^[77]

3. Social and Moral Control

Company towns’ spatial and financial control were entwined with tight social and moral regulations that were premised on, at least ostensibly, an ideal of corporate paternalism.^[78] Town bosses, for example, imposed tight regulations on workers’ behaviors such as drinking, smoking, gambling, speech, and association rights.^[79] The extractive use of scrip, as detailed above, was even justified on moral grounds, purportedly to prevent employees from using their pay to buy liquor and to “mitigate the impact of the saloon” in nearby towns.^[80] Other companies conditioned higher wages on the employees’ commitment to follow the employers’ moral or religious codes. The Ford Motor Company, for example, implemented a policy to pay its employees twice the average wage (five dollars a day) on the condition that they “conformed to Henry Ford’s religious and moral ideals.”^[81] This required consent to let the company’s Sociological Department investigators visit workers’ houses, conduct interviews, and perform inspections to ensure conformity to Ford’s professed Protestant values.^[82] Even seemingly harmless trivialities, such as failing to maintain one’s yard, may have extracted rebukes and evoked discipline from management.^[83] It was also common for firms to monitor employees for activities inside of their own homes. One mill owner, for example, “made a practice of walking around [company housing] at nine o’clock every night to knock on the doors of those who were still up to tell them to put out the lights and go to bed.”^[84] Other owners were not subtle in articulating the view that living in the town was a privilege, and that in return, companies could regulate workers’ association rights through, for example, restricting the use of company‑owned properties for activities such as union organizing.^[85]

More broadly, social control was part of industrial capitalism’s ideal of the virtuous worker: “Early to bed, early to rise, makes a man healthy, wealthy, and wise.”^[86] As one historian noted, factory owners “felt that their position gave them the right and the responsibility to be paternalistic, that it was their mission to lead laborers to a better life.”^[87] In this vision of corporate paternalism, running a business came with moral and economic responsibilities. By advocating for industrious “virtues” such as thrift, diligence, and obedience, corporate owners argued that the enterprises were safekeepers of not only industrialist productivity but also the larger social project of eradicating vice.^[88] Corporate regulations, enforced through the physical insulation and architecture of company towns, were deemed critical to improve workers’ welfare, both for their own and for societal goods.^[89]

C. Demise of Company Towns

Eventually, many of the practices in company towns were deemed unlawful at state and federal levels. Marsh v. Alabama essentially imposed First Amendment responsibilities on company towns based on their functions as “any other American town.”^[90] Pennsylvania became the first state to ban the use of company scrip as wage payments, only to have the law later declared unconstitutional by the Pennsylvania Supreme Court as a violation of freedom of contract.^[91] By the 1920s, most states had declared scrip illegal.^[92] The federal government followed suit in the Fair Labor Standards Act of 1938, which prohibited payment in “scrip, tokens, credit cards, ‘dope checks,’ coupons, and similar devices,”^[93] in recognition by Congress that “the individual worker should have both the freedom and the responsibility to allocate his minimum wage among competing economic and personal interests.”^[94]

The onset of the Great Depression in the United States spurred a wave of federal legislation further recognizing the need to protect vulnerable workers. The Social Security Act of 1935 created a welfare payment scheme.^[95] The National Labor Relations Act of 1935 enshrined the rights to form unions and to engage in collective bargaining.^[96] As Franklin D. Roosevelt declared in his 1944 State of the Union speech—known also as the “Second Bill of Rights” speech—”[w]e have come to a clear realization of the fact that true individual freedom cannot exist without economic security and independence. ‘Necessitous men are not free men.’”^[97]

Perhaps most consequential of all, the 1894 Pullman strike and the violence that followed turned public perceptions, including from local governments, about company towns.^[98] Soon after the labor unrest, the State of Illinois sued the Pullman Company, alleging that the company’s ownership of the town overstepped its own corporate charter.^[99] Ultimately, a politically‑divided court ordered the corporation to dispose of its non‑industrial property, including the iconic town.^[100]

By the 1950s, traditional, industrial towns had largely faded in the United States due to several colliding forces.^[101] Technological change, including in transportation and energy sources, slowly reduced the need for company towns.^[102] Railroads and automobiles eased the pain of distance and allowed newfound freedom of the roads, enabling workers to access a broader range of job opportunities.^[103] Company towns’ single economy became a disadvantage, as families could now seek out locations with more diverse job offerings and new business opportunities.^[104] Coal and mine towns had closed down during the Great Depression, and those that survived became obsolete during the Progressive Era as new forms of energy such as gas and oil became feasible fuel sources.^[105] The towns that managed to survive tended to pivot away from the old comprehensive model, building instead a version of the suburban corporate campus, whereby the main company sites are located in or near suburban centers, thus enabling workers and their families to access more attractive residential options.^[106]

In the macro, the demise of the industrial towns, together with the loss of manufacturing as a driving force of the economy, not coincidentally also corresponded with a parallel trend of corporations starting to outsource and internationalize in order to take advantage of low‑cost materials and labor.^[107] As industrial towns dwindled in developed nations, they found footing in a new global supply base. The next Section turns to the internationalization and globalization of the company town business model.

II. Company Towns Go Global

As the boom of industrial company towns faded in developed countries,^[108] globalization enabled their new lives abroad. This Part conceptualizes today’s “supply chain cities,” prolifically built in Asia, but also popular in Latin America and Africa, as modern reincarnations of the old company town model. At first blush, this may seem an unintuitive comparison. The fundamental qualities—the time and space, the companies, the states, the products, and production process—have all changed. To be sure, modern factory towns operate in a very different world from the past. Instead of textile mills and coal mines, modern industrial towns specialize in distinct functions of their industries, ranging from labor‑intensive tasks such as part assembling and packaging to high‑value, technology‑related manufacturing.^[109] The transition from old industrial towns to modern supply chain cities mirrors the narrative about globalization itself, first about the unbundling of production and consumption, then about the fragmentation and internationalization of production itself into a system of “dispersed manufacturing” known today as global supply chains.^[110]

Yet, from Pullman, Illinois to Foxconn’s “iPhone city” in Shenzhen, China, the “keywords” that emerged remain starkly similar: economic productivity, labor‑capital tension, corporate control.^[111] Such similarity, as argued in this Part, is not a coincidence, but the result of a global economic integration process that prioritizes efficient, large‑scale productivity. Put differently, the company town business model, then and now, facilitates a mode of capital accumulation and labor management that caters to industrial development, facilitated by expansive corporate control orders and sanctioned through law.

But unlike old industrial towns, which largely served single, vertically integrated corporations, modern factory towns, as demanded by global supply chains, are transboundary, interconnected, and designed to take advantage of various legal regimes, most notably trade, tariff, investment, and labor laws. Under the control of transnational, first‑tier suppliers, modern towns, more so than ever, act as legal entrepôts—made by law and formative of various sources of law, including sub‑national, national, and transnational.

This Part turns to the globalization of the company town business model. Starting first with the early model of outsourcing, it then explores some of the critical features that paved the way for today’s company towns: the rise to prominence of transnational suppliers, the proliferation of special zones, the creation of modern industrial towns, and the horizontal networks of global supply bases.

A. The Early Model

To be sure, corporate strategy to outsource and offshore existed well before globalization, though this phenomenon did not flourish to its full potential until the two “Great Unbundlings” that lasted from the late nineteenth century onward.^[112] Prior to modern globalization, outsourcing tended to be done vertically by a single firm, who sought to benefit from offshore resources while retaining control and ownership.^[113] A prime example—and a spectacular failure—was the Ford Motor Company’s establishment of the Fordlândia rubber plantation in 1920s Brasilia.^[114] A “jungle utopia” erected in the middle of the Amazon ecosystem, the plantation served a dual goal: to satisfy rubber demand from Ford’s internal operations and to reduce the United States’ dependency on rubber supply from the British and Dutch East Indies colonies.^[115] To seal the deal, the Brasilia government had granted Ford a hefty, if isolated, land concession as well as a substantial tax break.^[116] In exchange, the challenging terrain notwithstanding, Ford razed the forest to build an industrial town modeled after its flagship plant in Dearborn, Michigan, featuring American‑style landscaped bungalows, paved streets, and a golf course.^[117] The colony would hire local labor, provide above‑industry wages, and build free housing.^[118] According to Henry Ford, the purpose was part profit, part “work of civilization,” with the intent to cultivate not only a steady rubber supply but also “to help that wonderful and fertile land.”^[119] As with the original Michigan complex, Ford managers installed a factory whistle and time‑punch clocks to control workers’ time; unions and alcohol were swiftly banned; and company investigators established routine inspections to keep workers’ morals in check.^[120] As it turned out, a combination of environmental and social factors soon doomed Ford’s expensive experiment. Fordlândia’s North American managers, more skilled on factory floors than in tropical forests, were ill‑equipped to deal with the incessant rain, rot, and infestations that plagued rubber trees.^[121] Equally damning were widespread workers’ protests, first against Ford‑style rigid regulations and later against the company’s decision to bring in foreign labor from the Caribbean.^[122]

Fordlândia’s eventual abandonment stood in history as an expensive lesson on multiple fronts: a failed attempt to export the famed assembly line to a jungle ecology, the complexity of going multinational, and the politics of bringing “white man’s magic” to other parts of the world.^[123] Relevant to this Article, it also epitomizes the challenges of attempting to exercise corporate control over an increasingly intricate global production process. As detailed in the next Section, that task was soon outsourced to a new crop of companies, who took over not only the human management of supply chains, but also the legal and economic arbitrage of structuring global production itself.

B. Rise of Transnational Suppliers

The “unbundlings” of globalization—first the decoupling of production and consumption, and second the fragmenting of production itself—created a radical change in patterns of production and consumption in the Global North and Global South countries.^[124] In the early nineteenth century, inventions such as railroads, steamships, and container shipping drastically reduced the cost of international transport, thus enabling the cheaper and faster movement of products.^[125] This first era of global production was characterized by a boom in trade in final goods and nation‑based competitive advantage—that is, countries competed based on their relative abilities to produce goods largely within their borders.^[126] Because of this nation‑based division, this era of globalization substantially contributed to the “great divergence” of global development: on the one hand, the industrialized and consumption‑heavy Global North (today’s developed countries); on the other, the raw material and labor‑supplying Global South (today’s developing and emerging economies).^[127] Starting from 1990 onward, thanks to rapid development in communication technology, companies started to expand internationally, creating demands for the multinational corporate form.^[128] As communication technology improved, firms in developed economies gained the ability to coordinate complex, dispersed production from afar, in addition to the traditional route of sending technical and management know‑how to labor‑rich destinations.^[129] As a result, industrial competitiveness was increasingly defined by production networks rather than by country‑level comparative advantage.^[130] Instead of final goods, trade increasingly occurred in intermediate goods—that is, components and parts crisscrossed the globe, waiting to be assembled at the most cost‑advantageous destinations.^[131] This business model of decentralized production, also known as dispersed production, was the beginning of global value chains as we know them today.^[132]

As explored elsewhere, the gravitation towards a “made in the world” manufacturing model paved the way for the rise of a largely hidden new crop of multinational enterprises—whom I call “Big Suppliers.”^[133] By Big Suppliers, I refer to large contract manufacturing corporations, public and private, with presence in multiple jurisdictions, whether through subsidiaries or contracting networks.^[134] Though not always, they tend to be headquartered outside of Global North economies, predominantly in Asia, as a product of outsourcing trends, trade regulations, and individual nations’ industrial policies.^[135] As brands and retailers in the United States, Europe, and elsewhere divested, their foreign‑based contracting partners increasingly scaled up and consolidated to meet the complex demands of global production.^[136] When each part of a product might come from different countries, even different continents, control, coordination, task management, and compliance are critical responsibilities to ensure a smoothly run supply chain.^[137] This, in turn, spurred demands for a professional logistics industry capable of the herculean tasks of optimizing complex cross‑border processes.^[138]

Transnational suppliers thus emerged as a new, quiet crop of corporate powers, whose presence has transformed the economic and legal organization of global trade.^[139] By virtues of size and scale, they sit atop a robust global supply base spanning Asia, Latin America, and beyond.^[140] Thanks in part to economic and regulatory factors, this global supply base, while transboundary and expansive, is also concentrated, both geographically to a small number of key countries and economically to a small group of key firms.^[141] Examples include Foxconn, best known as the world’s largest electronics contract manufacturer with one million employees worldwide and Apple’s main supplier;^[142] the Taiwan Semiconductor Manufacturing Company (TSMC), the world’s biggest semiconductor manufacturing foundry known for its ability to make the most advanced nanochip;^[143] TAL Apparel, who produces one out of every eight dress shirts bought worldwide;^[144] Luen Thai, a textile conglomerate;^[145] Yue Yuen, the world’s largest manufacturer of athletic shoes;^[146] and Li & Fung, the world’s biggest apparel trading house, once called “the most important company that most American shoppers never heard of.”^[147]

Transnational suppliers’ quiet rise to prominence in a highly interdependent system has resulted in a relative shift in the locus of power in global supply chains, long assumed to be dominated by Western brands.^[148] They are the companies in modern company towns, having taken over the tasks of manufacturing and labor management. Like the corporate giants of the past, they act at once as employers, landlords, and quasi‑regulators to manage the employment, housing, mobility, and social lives of millions of workers whose labor sustains global consumption. As argued elsewhere, their emergence has implications on a suite of public and private law issues, including cross‑border contracts, corporate social responsibility designs, trade regulations, private regulatory functions, and beyond.^[149] Before turning to transnational suppliers’ management of modern industrial towns, we first need to understand the type of law‑made soil on which these towns stand: special economic zones.

C. Special Economic Zones

A special economic zone, at a fundamental level, is a form of regulatory laboratory—aptly defined as a “demarcated geographic area[] contained within a country’s national boundaries where the rules of business are different from those that prevail in the national territory.”^[150] The history of special zones dates back as far as the Roman Empire, whose authorities bestowed free‑trade‑like conditions on ports and islands to encourage trade.^[151] Early types of special economic zones included European colonial outposts such as Macau and Hong Kong, as well as China’s numerous “treaty ports,” through which it ceded territories and granted broad concessions to Western powers in the aftermath of the Opium Wars.^[152] Modern special economic zones, interestingly, are at least partially an American innovation. In 1948, the Puerto Rico legislature established “Operation Bootstrap” (Operación Manos a la Obra)—an ambitious development project to attract U.S. manufacturing operations to Puerto Rico, with the bulk of products sent back into U.S. markets.^[153] Operation Bootstrap transformed Puerto Rico into an industrial outpost for U.S. companies and expanded the vision of economic zones into one not only for trade, but also for production.^[154] In the 1970s and 1980s, special economic zones were catapulted to a holy‑grail status thanks to several highly successful utilizations, first by the “Asian Tiger” economies, then by the People’s Republic of China as part of Deng Xiaoping’s “Open Door” policy.^[155] Urged on by a coalition of national governments, private sectors, and international organizations hoping to replicate such successes, other developing countries quickly seized on the model, resulting in a rapid spread of special economic zones around the globe.^[156] From just under 200 zones in the 1980s, today there are over 7,000 special economic zones in 145 countries, employing an estimated workforce of 100 million.^[157] They encompass a wide range of infrastructure in different sizes, from entire economic regions or ports to single‑factory buildings.^[158] Though widespread, zone distributions are highly concentrated, both in geography and in economic activities. According to 2019 statistics, nearly 90 percent of the world’s special economic zones are located in developing nations, with China hosting nearly half.^[159]

Functionally, special economic zones allow states to move beyond the old economic wisdom of national competitive advantage to create modern one‑stop‑shop “location‑specific advantages.”^[160] The goal, as made clear by policymakers, is to create more liberal, effective business environments, insulated from the larger national context, to attract foreign investments and boost economic development.^[161] This can be done through a combination of “hard” and “soft” infrastructure—that is, physical buildings, landscapes, and transportation networks (the hardware) as well as regulations and programming that facilitate commercial activities (the software). Common regulatory incentives include preferential customs duties and taxes; streamlined administrative procedures; and, one‑stop integrated offices to ease compliance.^[162] Benefiting from special economic zones’ well‑defined spatial boundaries, states may also test controversial policies such as land auctions, wholly foreign‑owned companies, or labor market liberalization without having to commit to large‑scale changes.^[163] From a legal perspective, these national incentives and subsidies—what scholars have called “unilateral economic law” to contrast with the multilateral system of international economic law—can trigger scrutiny pursuant to the anti‑discrimination rules of the World Trade Organization and regional trade agreements.^[164] As a technical matter, the latter have now tended to include special economic zone‑related reservations to allow for policies that might otherwise contradict a state’s trade liberalization commitments.^[165]

Due to special economic zones’ more relaxed regulatory frameworks, advocates have long argued that these exacerbate the unaccountability problems that plague global supply chains.^[166] This can lead to a policy race to the bottom, especially with regards to labor rights and environmental issues. On the other hand, proponents argue that special economic zones allow for a controlled experiment, whose economic and institutional benefits can have a spillover effect to nearby areas and to the national economy as a whole.^[167] Their controversies notwithstanding, special economic zones and the structures that have sprung up on their soils—industrial clusters and supply chain cities—have become a popular component of states’ development and industrialization strategies.^[168] The next Section turns to examine these modern company towns and draw comparisons with the old, classic model.

D. Special Towns

Despite the obvious difference and vastly different settings, today’s supply chain cities exemplify many of the key qualities that define the old company towns: large‑scale economic activities, comprehensive infrastructure planning, and tight control over workers’ lives.^[169] Such similarities are not a coincidence, but the result of a Global North‑South economic integration process that prioritized foreign investments and cross‑border transactions.

A prominent example is Foxconn’s establishment in Shenzhen—famed as China’s first special economic zone, conveniently located as an access point between capital‑rich Hong Kong and the labor‑rich Chinese mainland.^[170] To attract investment, local officials, sanctioned by the central government, enabled laws that provided overseas investors with a wide array of preferential policies including tax exemptions, land leases, and streamlined procedures for export.^[171] In 1995, thanks to a new law that allowed the Shenzhen municipal government to sell “industrial land” to private enterprises, Foxconn bought a sizeable swath of land to establish the Longhua Science and Technology Park—now home to its largest plant worldwide, estimated to house over 400,000 employees.^[172] Dubbed a “forbidden city,” over 1,000 security guards staff the complex, which, together with fingerprint scanners and identification checkpoints, keep order, ward off curious reporters, and prevent leaks of highly anticipated consumer products.^[173] In addition to its dozens of assembly lines and dormitories, Longhua has a fire brigade, a hospital, restaurants, banks, a grocery store, and an employee swimming pool.^[174] It also has an in‑house TV channel—Foxconn TV—which is broadcast on the hundreds of monitors mounted around the complex, showing exercise programs, worker‑safety videos, and company news.^[175] At Longhua, workers typically eat subsidized meals, and can choose to live rent‑free in company dormitories inside the walled‑off compound or off campus.^[176] They work exceedingly long hours, sometimes twenty‑nine days a month, during shifts where no talking or eating are allowed.^[177] In 2010, Foxconn made international headlines after news broke about a string of workers’ suicides, attributed to the high‑stress work culture and subpar living conditions of the Longhua campus.^[178] Foxconn’s example thus illustrates the pathologies of capital‑labor tension and labor exploitation that have persisted, and arguably worsened, behind the closed walls of supply chain cities.

While labor management is no doubt a major function of supply chain cities, they can also act as hubs for innovation. Take, for example, the Luen Thai‑Liz Claiborne facility in Dongguan, China. Dongguan, dubbed “the factory of the world” for its booming export‑oriented economy, labor abundance, and convenient transportation access, became a host site for supply chain cities thanks, in part, to legal changes such as the expiration of the Multi‑Fiber Agreement (MFA)—a multilateral regime that carved out special quotas for trade in textiles from 1973 until 2005.^[179] By imposing country‑specific quotas on textile exports by developing countries, the MFA contributed to a proliferation of supply bases around the world, and its end brought about a consolidation of the apparel supply chains.^[180] With Liz Claiborne’s backing, Luen Thai relocated its raw materials suppliers and contract manufacturers to one mega‑factory in Dongguan.^[181] Luen Thai’s two‑million‑square foot industrial campus comprised of a factory, dormitories for 4,000 workers, a hotel, even a karaoke lounge.^[182] To facilitate a smooth production flow, the parties employed a standardized scan‑and‑track inventory system to move goods across production stages from the factory floors into retail stores.^[183] “A buyer, a marketer, [and] a brander from the [United States] can go to Supply Chain City and never have to leave the complex,” explained Luen Thai’s U.S. president, “[t]hey can make their samples, they can buy their fabrics, they can do everything they want under one roof.”^[184] Luen Thai’s restructuring resulted in a corresponding change at Liz Claiborne, which at the time sourced from over 250 suppliers in thirty‑five countries.^[185] The retailer started to consolidate its supplier base and relocate its designers from Hong Kong, New York City, and elsewhere to the Dongguan complex so that they could closely collaborate with Luen Thai’s technicians from the factory and fabric mills.^[186] The one‑stop‑shop, comprehensive nature of Luen Thai’s industrial site thus fosters collaboration, information sharing, and innovation—an arrangement that mirrors the “technology cluster” concept of high‑tech locales like Silicon Valley.^[187] Equally remarkable is Luen Thai’s ability, as a supplier, to transform the business model of its client (here, Liz Clairborne). Like the company towns of the past, by providing comprehensive manufacturing and service, suppliers like Luen Thai effectively create a vertical integration model in the middle of the supply chains, but expanded to a global scale.

Beyond the factory sites, supply chain cities can play a role in transforming the broader legal landscape, including property rights and private regulatory functions. Take, for example, the creation and proliferation of “urban villages,” or chengzhongcun, in mainland China. Literally translated to “village encircled by the city,” these peri‑urban housing sites mainly house migrant workers, who flock to urban and industrial zones for manufacturing jobs.^[188] Electronic factories, like those in textiles and apparels, are land‑consuming. Increasing production pressure and factory expansion lead factories to use rural lands on the urban periphery for housing workers.^[189] In China and Southeast Asia, urban villages tend to be created when the states appropriate adjacent farmland and convert them to urban (that is, state‑owned) land, which can then be leased for development purposes.^[190] While farmlands are expropriated, rural villagers are sometimes able to retain their residential homes, an approach that also enables the government to avoid costly, public, and time‑consuming programs to compensate and relocate affected villagers.^[191] One such urban village is the Qinghu Community, located in Longhua District adjacent to the Foxconn Longhua Industrial Park.^[192] Unlike Foxconn’s dormitories that are located on campus, homes in urban villages typically belong to the original villagers, and the majority of the residents there are renting assembly line workers from Foxconn and other nearby factories.^[193] Somewhat ironically, this also acts as value creation for landless but entrepreneurial rural farmers, who turned their homes into dorms then either sold the building or rent out beds to migrant workers, often for a handsome profit.^[194] This, in turn, makes up part of what scholars have called a “small property” market in China—illegal real estate transactions, such as sales and rentals in urban villages, that are nonetheless robust and well‑run, despite the lack of formal property rights.^[195]

Equally significant, corporate functions in modern factory towns can extend well beyond commercial activities—a phenomenon amplified by the COVID‑19 pandemic. In the 2019−2021 period, as the pandemic traveled around the globe, transnational suppliers, as operators of supply chain cities, took on surprising and dramatic roles as providers of public health and pandemic response, even as diplomats to secure scarce vaccines. In Vietnam, for example, after waves of COVID‑19 outbreaks, electronic factories turned to a model of “sleepover manufacturing” to insulate workers from infections, greenlit by a national leadership anxious to keep the country’s reputation as a supply chain rising star.^[196] Pou Chen—Yue Yuen’s Vietnamese subsidiary—advanced its own contact tracing, testing, and medical reporting system,^[197] while Samsung Vietnam provided free dormitories and food to encourage workers to stay within its industrial park.^[198] When COVID‑19 inevitably reached the factory floors, these suppliers, sanctioned by regulators, turned their plants into quarantine spaces, where thousands of workers spent time away from their families isolating in clusters.^[199] This was an exception to Vietnam’s then highly rigid regulation that COVID‑19 exposures were subject to mandatory quarantine in military‑operated camps.^[200] In Taiwan, in an extraordinary development, Foxconn and TSMC took on a diplomatic and political role as they represented the Taiwanese government in its negotiation to purchase COVID‑19 vaccines directly from BioNTech.^[201] By outsourcing the negotiation to its two most powerful companies, Taiwan sidelined a conflict with the People’s Republic of China, which insisted that Taiwan needed to wait for vaccine distribution from the central government, just like other Chinese provinces.^[202] In Vietnam, suppliers also played critical roles in securing vaccine supplies for their workforce early in the pandemic, spurring a heated public debate on vaccine equity.^[203] In defense, these enterprises argued that the infrastructure of their industrial sites acted as built‑in regulation for vaccine compliance and should be prioritized both for public health and economic reasons.^[204] To be sure, the desire to maintain production at a time when global supply chains became heavily scrutinized factored into these governments’ delegation of critical foreign policy and public health functions to transnational suppliers.^[205]

E. Horizontal Networks

Supply chain cities might have started out as China’s and Asia’s “factories of the world” but are now a global phenomenon, thanks, in no small part, to the expansion of transnational suppliers.^[206] Between 1998 and 2012, Foxconn alone conducted over fifteen major mergers and acquisitions worldwide, including Japan‑based Sharp (itself a multinational manufacturer known for its televisions and display screens) and Motorola’s Mexico business.^[207] Yue Yuen—the world’s largest sport footwear manufacturer and the main supplier for Nike, Adidas, Reebok, and similar brands—has likewise built manufacturing bases throughout Southeast Asia and South Asia.^[208] In Africa, Ethiopia’s flagship Hawassa Industrial Park, estimated to employ 60,000 workers, was constructed by the China Civil Engineering Construction Corporation and modeled after the Suzhou special economic zone.^[209] In Latin America, Mexico’s maquiladora program, known as “border factories,” was first created to motivate U.S. firms’ investments, but has become a popular investment destination for transnational suppliers from China, Japan, and Hong Kong thanks to Mexico’s proximity and access to free trade with the United States and Canada.^[210]

As a result, modern factory towns no longer resemble the old model’s discrete islands of economic activity. Instead, they belong to transnational networks operating at different nodes of global supply chains, strategically located to take advantage of trade, tariff, and other favorable laws. Thanks to transnational suppliers’ cross‑border reach, manufacturing towns in locations as far apart as Latin America and Southeast Asia may share the same parent company or similar management practices. This transboundary and interconnected feature, in turn, holds normative implications for the roles of modern factory towns, including as legal entrepôts—formed by and formative of various sources of law. The next Part turns to this concept and its normative and policy implications.

III. Normative and Policy Implications

A. Company Towns as Legal Entrepôts

An entrepôt is a physical place in between, derived from the French words “entre” (among, between) and “poser” (to place).^[211] Historically, the term refers to warehouses and shipment centers, where goods are deposited as part of trade flows.^[212] More broadly, like a gateway or a port, an entrepôt connects local commerce with the wider world, providing a space for processing, documentation, and organization of migrating goods and people.^[213] Borrowing from this concept, a legal entrepôt is “legal” in two ways. First, its nature is “legal” in that it is law‑made, designated as a cross‑border entrance by the relevant authorities from which it derives legitimacy.^[214] In this sense, official ports, special economic zones, and factory towns are necessarily law‑made spaces, sanctioned by law and created with specific policy goals, often to encourage regulatory and economic experiments without having to commit to large‑scale changes.^[215] Indeed, scholars have argued that these specially designated spaces represent a regime of capitalist “micro‑ordering”—that is, “political arrangements at a small scale,” separate from the structure of the nation‑states.^[216]

Second, equally noteworthy, the concept of a legal entrepôt underscores how laws and norms, like other commodities, flow through and are shaped within the physical space. At the broadest level, a norm is defined as “an authoritative standard,” custom, or practice that guides behavior.^[217] Norms can be obligations laid down by the authority of law, or models and standards that are widely accepted, voluntarily or involuntarily, by society or large groups.^[218] Private norms have been shown to play particularly outsized roles in business settings as well as transnational spaces, where public regulations may be crowded out by other options or lacking altogether.^[219] Much has been written about how private actors use various methods to advance their own private ordering.^[220] Business actors, for example, can act as “norm entrepreneurs” to influence legislative processes such as treaty making, international agenda setting, and international lobbying.^[221] Once laws and norms “cascade” and settle,^[222] private actors can further shape their meanings through post hoc interpretation, either through litigation^[223] or by creating complimenting or contradicting industry norms.^[224] Past company towns exemplified this kind of private ordering—from the use of infrastructure as regulation to extensive control over workers’ lives to the use of contract and employment laws as resource constraints.^[225]

Private actors such as transnational suppliers are subject to multiple legal regimes that range from local to international. Business actors sometimes engage in enforcement themselves by incorporating international rules and norms in their corporate policies and contracts.^[226] Where public law stops short or is ambiguous, private ordering has filled in through diverse venues such as standard setting, corporate social responsibility, modern slavery laws, and environmental regulations.^[227] Conventional wisdom often upholds corporate buyers, who sit at the end of global supply chains, as the key to addressing the complex and persistent problems associated with supply chains.^[228] While brands remain important, the emergence of transnational suppliers as a new crop of corporate power means that laws and policies that primarily target corporate buyers are missing a remarkable shift in global economic arrangements.^[229] In supply chain settings, first‑tier, transnational suppliers may influence a norm’s life cycle through agency, but they may do so simply as a by‑product of firms’ organizational logic, economic arrangement, or infrastructure.^[230]

When transnational suppliers operate supply chain cities that resemble past company towns, how they organize their buildings, factory floors, and work shifts becomes the de facto regulation of significant aspects of individual lives.^[231] As transnational suppliers often operate in “regulatory laboratory” spaces such as special economic zones with more leeway given to local authorities and private actors,^[232] their roles as legal entrepôts are thus especially pronounced. Two examples below illustrate this point: First, “supply chain splitting” as an example of regulatory fragmentation and selective compliance; second, standard harmonization and contestation.

1. Regulatory Fragmentation and Selective Compliance

“Regulatory fragmentation” here refers to a phenomenon where a transnational supplier, by virtue of its control over industrial sites, can choose to “fragment” its production lines to selectively comply with stringent standards only where required.^[233] Take, for example, Yue Yuen’s operation model of customer‑specific production lines. A major athletic footwear manufacturer, Yue Yuen is the main supplier for Nike, Adidas, Reebok, and other brands.^[234] As one of Nike’s major suppliers, Yue Yuen became embroiled in the anti‑sweatshop campaign against Nike during the late 1990s, including major exposés on its factories in Vietnam.^[235] In the aftermath, Nike became an early adopter of corporate social responsibility, with some of the most stringent standards on workers’ rights in the industry.^[236] As a supplier to multiple brands, Yue Yuen increasingly needs to comply with not only varying manufacturing specifications but also a variety of codes of conduct and labor and safety standards. Yue Yuen organizes its production lines based on specific merchandisers, producing specific items in batch.^[237] As a result, Nike’s more stringent labor standards are effectively “quarantined” within its own production line. Meeting the more stringent requirements for a customer like Nike thus does not necessarily result in positive spillover effects on Yue Yuen’s other processes.^[238]

The solar panel industry faces a similar issue in its recent efforts to “cleanse” the solar panel supply chain of forced labor. Solar panels are composed of photovoltaic cells made with polysilicon components to absorb and convert sunlight into usable energy.^[239] As with many other supply chains, China dominates in polysilicon production. In particular, the Xinjiang Autonomous Region in northwest China is home to four of the five largest polysilicon factories in the world, thanks partly to the region’s abundance of coal, which serves as a power source for the high‑heat industrial processes required to produce polysilicon.^[240] According to Bloomberg, “[n]early every silicon‑based solar module—at least 95 percent of the market—is likely to have some Xinjiang silicon in [it] [sic].”^[241] Concerns about the Chinese government’s modern slavery and human rights abuse of the Uyghur ethnic minorities in this region have prompted the United States to issue a series of import sanctions on Xinjiang‑originating products, including polysilicon. In 2021, against objections from industry associations, President Biden signed into law the Uyghur Forced Labor Prevention Act, which creates a rebuttable presumption that imports from Xinjiang are made with forced labor unless importers can produce “clear and convincing” evidence demonstrating otherwise.^[242] In a concerted move, the United States Customs and Border Protection, which, in addition to immigration, is also in charge of the admission of goods into the United States, issued a series of “withhold release orders” to detain solar components suspected of being “tainted” with Xinjiang labor.^[243] In response, solar component manufacturers have started splitting their production lines, with dedicated “clean” lines—that is, clearly free of Xinjiang inputs—slated for export to the United States, while the rest maintain the status quo.^[244] As an example, Jinko Solar, a solar module manufacturer headquartered in Shanghai, is reportedly ramping up its Xinjiang‑free production in Vietnam to serve the United States market by using only German‑ and U.S.‑sourced polysilicon for these production lines.^[245] In response to U.S. import sanctions, Jinko already sold off its ingot (crystalline silicon) manufacturing factory in Xinjiang and reported that it only used ingot produced elsewhere for its U.S.‑exported solar wafers.^[246]

That manufacturers, by virtue of their control over manufacturing sites, are able to split their supply chains and fragment production thus give insights into why regulations and codes of conduct over supply chains continue to face persistent challenges. In addition to existing explanations related to “greenwashing” or auditing and monitoring difficulties,^[247] these examples show that even implementing a successful code or law may have limited impact. Suppliers’ ability to separate production based on legal standards can curb a law’s effectiveness and limit its impact—a counter story to the “race to the top” phenomenon of the “Brussels effect” and “California effect.”^[248] In this sense, modern factory towns act as sites of regulatory fragmentation, where business practices can shape the implementation of particular laws or codes and enable a model of selective compliance.

2. Standard Harmonization and Contestation

Technical standards, including product specifications, technological blueprints, certifications, and codes of conduct unsurprisingly play important roles in the regulation of supply chains.^[249] Typically, those requirements flow one way from consumer‑rich buyers to their suppliers through contracting requirements or codes of conduct.^[250] Consider, however, instances where modern factory towns, as sites of implementation, can themselves act as not just rule‑takers but also shapers of competing standards.

Take, for example, two standards relating to supply chain audits and monitoring: the U.S.‑based SA8000 and the China‑based CSC9000T. The SA8000 is a set of auditable labor standards established by the Social Accountability International (SAI)—an influential private, U.S.‑based non‑profit.^[251] It purports to measure a company’s labor protection performance through nine criteria, ranging from collective bargaining rights to compliance with international instruments such as the International Labor Organization Better Work conventions, the U.N.’s Universal Declaration of Human Rights, and the U.N. Guiding Principles on Business and Human Rights.^[252] To be certified under the SA8000, a facility must conduct a preliminary internal assessment, make corresponding changes, and then pass multiple assessments by an SAI‑accredited auditor.^[253] Corporations that seek an SA8000 certification must stipulate in written purchase contracts with suppliers that those suppliers consent to conform to SA8000 standards.^[254]

Manufacturing countries, including China, initially opposed adopting the SA8000, arguing that global buyers, despite requiring such certification schemes, generally refused to bear the costs of improving labor conditions, thus placing the steep costs of reform solely on suppliers.^[255] As social performance standards became ubiquitous in supply chains, offshore nations started developing their own codes. The China National Textile and Apparel Council, a state‑affiliated trade association, developed an alternative standard, the CSC9000T. The CSC9000T incorporated Chinese labor law and company law as well as elements from the SA8000 and other international benchmarks.^[256] But unlike the U.S.‑based SA8000, China’s CSC9000T is not a certification regime and does not require firms to conduct regular audits.^[257] Rather, it sets forth long‑term “advisory” goals that do not require immediate compliance.^[258] Pursuant to the CSC9000T, third‑party auditors would emphasize the needs for “harmonious and cooperative interactions” with suppliers during the evaluation process, which include training and technical support and “flexibility” in remediation.^[259] The CSC9000T thus reflects a preference for cooperation, remediation, and capacity building of suppliers.^[260]

The CSC9000T’s development took place in the broader context of the Chinese Party‑State’s expression of concerns over the domination of Western‑led private standards in global commerce.^[261] The China National Textile and Apparel Council has used the CSC9000T as a backbone to develop the “Guidance for Chinese Textile and Apparel Industry on Responsible Overseas Investment,” to be implemented in China’s Belt and Road Initiative.^[262] A megadevelopment plan that promises lucrative investments around the world, the Belt and Road Initiative includes projects throughout Asia, Africa, and beyond.^[263] In addition to textiles, other Chinese industries, including electronics and communications, also adopted the CSC9000T framework.^[264] As such, this China‑led standard can potentially have a global reach, both geographically and across industries.

Consistent with contestation efforts observed in other areas such as dispute resolution, ^[265] we likely will not see a complete switch from status quo standards, but rather a mix of coexisting combinations. To be sure, China is not the only country that has managed to create its own, alternative production and sustainability standard.^[266] But the global reach of transnational suppliers—many of whom are based in China—is significant. Their operations—comprised of a network of industrial sites, contractual controls of lower‑tier suppliers, and connections with the Belt and Road Initiative, have the potentials to enable standards such as the CSC9000T to be amplified across borders and throughout supply chains.

B. Demands for Infrastructure: Bifurcated Supply Chains

Global supply chains are at an inflection point. Thanks to changing geopolitics and post‑pandemic reordering, at least two trends are emerging: infrastructure development in developed economies and pressure to divert manufacturing out of China into other global supply bases. This apparent bifurcation of status quo supply chains is spurring new factories and industrial clusters—both in traditionally consumer economies in the West and in offshore manufacturing economies.

This bifurcation of supply chains is driven by several factors. First, efforts to “de‑risk” from China’s supply chain dominance have spurred a host of policy incentives to restructure critical industries, most prominently by the United States and Europe. Noting East Asian dominance in semiconductor manufacturing, a 2021 White House report identified these de facto localized monopolies as major vulnerabilities for the United States’ economy and national security.^[267] The solution, the report advised, is to reinvest in America and its allies by “onshoring,” “near‑shoring,” and “friend‑shoring” critical industries.^[268] Since then, newly enacted federal and state laws have significantly altered the semiconductor landscape. The Creating Helpful Incentives to Produce Semiconductors and Science Act of 2022 (CHIPS Act) promises, among other incentives, over $50 billion in federal investment in the domestic semiconductor industry.^[269] A host of U.S. states have followed suit to provide state‑funded incentives for semiconductor fabrication, including tax credit and exemptions, job creation credit, and investment credit, among others.^[270] Europe, too, is eager to compete. Enacted in July 2023, the European Chips Act offers attractive subsidies and fast‑track options for semiconductor.^[271]

Against this backdrop, prominent domestic and foreign chipmakers have announced significant investments in the United States and Europe. TSMC, for example, is slated to open a chip factory in Arizona in 2024 and another in Germany in 2025, with the capability to manufacture its most advanced three‑nanometer chips.^[272] Intel and Micron likewise announced plans to build chip fabrications in Ohio and New York.^[273]

This “carrot” approach to attract manufacturing is complemeted by a “stick” appraoch to derisk from China. The Department of Commerce, through its Bureau of Industry and Security, issued export control rules targeting China’s ability to acquire, produce, or use advanced computing semiconductors and related equipment.^[274] Notably, these rules target not only the end products (i.e., advanced chips) but also the commercial items in these products’ supply chains necessary for their production, thus creating a more comprehensive export control regime than previously utilized.^[275]For its part, in response to U.S. sanctions, China has started to enact retaliatory laws banning U.S. chip companies from its market and imposing export control on critical minerals.^[276] These dueling laws thus set the stage for an increasingly compelx supply chain regulation landscape.

Meanwhile, to hedge against unstable geopolitics and legal uncertainties, other industries and manufacturing segments also face pressure to divert out of China. Apple, for example, has announced plans to diversify some of its core productions to India and Vietnam, triggering its “Big Three” suppliers—Foxconn, LuxShare, and Goertek— to set up subsidiaries, secure land leases, and announce construction plans in these destinations.^[277] In the textile and apparel industries, the passage of the Uyghur Forced Labor Prevention Act and other sanctions have driven brands to seek out alternative cotton resources, effectively creating new demand for labor and cotton plants in Pakistan, Bangladesh, and India.^[278]

As a result, new factories and industrial clusters are being created around the globe, thanks to an accelerating race for technology and shifting supply chain geopolitics. If one takes seriously the lesson from history, past attempts, from Ford Motor’s venture in Brasilia to Foxconn’s recent failed project in Wisconsin, show that this will not be a straightforward endeavor. This begs the next question: Given the imminent restructuring of global supply chains and increased demands for new large‑scale production sites, is it possible to learn from past pathologies to build “better” industrial towns?

C. Transnational Solidarity

The complex, multidimensional, multi‑jurisdictional nature of global supply chains demands a similarly multifaceted response. Much has been devoted to recent developments in supply chain regulatory efforts such as human rights due diligence and vigilance laws, which have begun to address the opaque nature of supplier networks.^[279] This Section draws attention to another phenomenon of “transnational solidarity”—that is, strategic coordination among workers who might be in different countries or industries but can build momentum thanks to their connections through a common global supply base. The transboundary, porous nature of global supply chains, while facilitating the extraterritorial reach of corporate private governance, also presents opportunities for transnational advocacy movements.^[280]

Take, for example, the coordinated strike against Tesla by workers in Scandinavian countries. It started in October 2023 when four Swedish technicians in Oslo walked out of their jobs to protest Tesla’s refusal to sign a collective bargaining agreement with their union.^[281] Since then, thousands of workers throughout Northern Europe have joined in, including Norwegian and Finnish port workers who refused to load Tesla car parts and Danish truck drivers who rejected Tesla shipments.^[282] Support came also from Swedish workers outside of Tesla’s ambit, including postal workers, cleaners, and garbage collectors who declined to service Tesla offices.^[283] While Northern Europe is a relatively small market, these labor actions have garnered attention across the globe as a renewed form of transnational labor movements to challenge Elon Musk’s strict no‑union stance.^[284] Significantly, German workers at Tesla’s “super factory” in Berlin—its second production hub outside of the U.S.‑based United States—also expressed intention to join their Scandinavian counterparts, and the United Auto Workers, fresh off its victory against Ford and General Motors in late 2023, also announced that Tesla would be a future organizing target.^[285] These actions signify a global effort to organize along supply chain nodes to take advantage of the transnational nature of a multinational firm such as Tesla.

Tesla’s coordinated strikes reminisce of another earlier effort by supply chain workers—the 2014 Yue Yuen strikes in Dongguan, China. In 2014, in what turned out to be one of the largest industrial strikes in Chinese history, 40,000 workers from multiple Yue Yuen factories took to the streets to protest against the company’s failure to pay worker benefits.^[286] It started with a single worker at a Yue Yuen factory in Dongguan, who, in seeking compensation for a workplace injury, learned that the shoe giant had been depleting workers’ social insurance funds, a legally mandated reserve used to pay insurance premiums on workers’ healthcare, work‑related injuries, unemployment, and housing needs.^[287] Within a week, the strike had spread to 1,000 workers; within two weeks, an estimated 40,000 workers from all seven of Yue Yuen factories in the region had joined in—marking a rare regional effort.^[288] The unusual size, length, and reach of the unrest triggered a violent response from local authorities, with local police and security officials sending in police dogs and detaining strike leaders.^[289] By the end of the month, most workers accepted a settlement and returned to work.^[290] Without the counterweight of an independent union, the massive strike, like a wave, surged and dissipated without long‑lasting gains for Chinese workers.^[291] Even then, the legacy of the Yue Yuen strikes prompted the central government to announce an investigation into Yue Yuen’s books and records, eventually resulting in a $90 million settlement to replenish its social insurance and workers’ housing funds.^[292]

Consider another example in Vietnam where strike coordination can happen not through workers but through business and political networks. To avoid competition, employers in the same industrial clusters—especially East Asian companies from Taiwan, Japan, and Korea—often coordinated on wage rates and workers’ benefits.^[293] A successful strike that raised wage rates would thus impact the equilibrium of the entire industrial zone and even region. To discourage further strikes, provincial union officials would inform their counterparts in neighboring zones and provinces about the successful strike and the resulting new wages.^[294] They may even advise employers to engage in preemptive negotiations, rather than waiting for workers’ reactions, which may cause business disruptions.^[295] In effect, through business and political networks, local officials in Vietnam have informational advantages regarding strike activities and results, allowing them to act as brokers to set the bargaining terms and preempt potential conflicts. This practice is certainly not labor‑led negotiation or transnational solidarity in the traditional sense. Yet, in an ironic way, it still represents a pathway through which the interconnected, business‑friendly nature of industrial zones and supply chains can be leveraged for labor causes, albeit tamed through the networks of political and business actors.

In sum, the horizontal networks of modern industrial clusters and factory towns thus open up new pathways, albeit limited or tamed (in the case of China and Vietnam), for coordinated labor actions that can span across regions and even borders (in the case of Tesla). To build better company towns thus requires a full‑court press across different venues of production. This includes top‑down pressure (regulations by states and international institutions) as well as cross‑chain pressure (private standard settings and codes of conduct). Equally important is strengthening bottom‑up, grassroots efforts between factories and across labor forces to take advantage of modern industrial towns’ production linkages.

 

Conclusion

This Article conceptualizes modern supply chain cities as a reincarnation of the old model of company towns. In so doing, it lays bare the physical and legal blueprints of this uniquely potent form of corporate power, highlighting both its remarkable continuities and evolutions across time and space. Then and now, the company town is a vehicle for expansive private governance, enabled by the enterprise’s omnipresent role as employer, landlord, amenity provider, and rule‑maker. But unlike old industrial towns, which largely served single, vertically integrated corporations, modern factory towns are transboundary and interconnected as demanded by global supply chains. The horizontal linkages among industrial clusters can open up new opportunities for strategic coordination among workers who may be scattered around the world but connected through a global supply base, representing pathways through which the business‑friendly nature of industrial zones and supply chains can be leveraged for social causes. At a time when changing geopolitics and renewed focus on industrial development create rapid demands for industrial sites, this Article thus offers a timely study on the pathologies of and hopes for modern industrial towns.

 

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* Associate Professor of Law, Temple University Beasley School of Law; Affiliated Scholar, New York University of Law, U.S. Asia Law Institute. Much of this Article was completed during my stays as visiting scholar at the National University of Singapore Faculty of Law, Centre for Asian Legal Studies and at the Singapore Management University Yong Pung How School of Law, both of which provided welcoming and stimulating research environments. My deepest thanks to Professors Matthew Erie, Jacques deLisle, Paul Gugliuzza, J. Benton Heath, Christian Hofmann, Pasha Hsieh, Ching-fu Lin, Tom Lin, Kish Parella, Jaya Ramji-Nogales, Rachel Rebouché, Umakanth Varottil, and Harwell Wells for their insightful comments and many conversations during different stages of the project. Early drafts benefited from presentations in the Global Conversations in International Business Transactions Series hosted by Washington & Lee School of Law, the Comparative Commercial Law Speaker Series at National University of Singapore Faculty of Law, the Asian International Economic Law Network Conference at the National Taiwan University, and the International Economic Law Colloquium at Brooklyn Law School. I am grateful to Charles Perkins and Dara Chase at Temple University Beasley School of Law for their excellent research support, and to editors of the University of Colorado Law Review, in particular Devin Schultze, Natalie Tiggleman, Hannah Corcoran, Sarah Mische, Emily Protz, Benjamin Johnson, and Zachary Quaratella for their dedication and exceptional editorial work. All errors are mine.

1. See J. Douglas Porteous, Social Class in Atacama Company Towns, 64 Annals Ass’n Am. Geographers 409, 409−10, 414, 416 (1974). ↑
2. By “company towns,” this Article refers to economic institutions that double as settlements, where a dominant employer owns the infrastructure as well as employs a large portion of the residents. See Hardy Green, Company Towns in the United States, in Oxford Rsch. Encyc. of Am. Hist. 1 (Mar. 28, 2018). A key feature of company towns, as explored infra Section II.A, is the exercise of comprehensive corporate control over workers’ employment and private lives. See infra Section I.B (the corporate control order).Some have argued that employer‑owned planned communities (such as the Walt Disney Company’s Celebration in Florida) and Big Tech’s campuses (such as those owned by Google and Facebook) function similarly to company towns. See, e.g., Molly Loe, Googletown is Coming to Mountain View, USA, TechHQ (June 20, 2023), https://‌‌techhq.com‌‌/2023‌‌/06‌‌/company‑towns-new-google-building [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/2ANL-T4AD]. The wealthy nature of these towns, however, sets them apart from the industrial settlements at the heart of this Article, characterized by stark power imbalance between workers and enterprises. As such, this Article focuses on “industrial towns,” where economic activities center on large-scale manufacturing and the management of blue‑collar workers, whether during the Industrial Revolutions or in supply chain contexts. I use the terms “company town,” “factory town,” and “industrial town” interchangeably to refer to these industrial projects. ↑
3. See infra Parts I–II (tracing the history from “classic” company towns to modern company towns); see also Pol Antràs, Global Production: Firms, Contracts, and Trade Structure 4–5 (2016) (arguing that the “made in” label now belongs not to a single country but rather a global effort). ↑
4. See infra Sections II.D−E (examples from Foxconn, Luen Thai). ↑
5. See infra Section I.B (describing the corporate control order in classic company towns); infra Section II.C (describing how states institutionalize a separate regime of preferential regulations through special economic zones). ↑
6. See infra Section III.A (defining and describing the significance of a legal entrepôt). ↑
7. See infra notes 233–246 and accompanying text (examples of deliberate “regulatory fragmentation” from the athletic footwear and solar industries). ↑
8. See infra notes 251–267 and accompanying text (examples of China’s CSC9000T as a competing standard against prominent frameworks from the United States and Europe). ↑
9. See infra notes 268–279 and accompanying text (analyzing the demands for new industrial sites in the United States and elsewhere, motivated on the one hand by incentives to “reshore” critical supply chains and on the other hand by proliferating trade restrictions). ↑
10. See infra notes 280–292 and accompanying text (describing Tesla and Yue Yuen’s coordinated strikes). ↑
11. Id. ↑
12. Industrialist company towns in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries are the subject of broad interdisciplinary scholarship, especially in the United States. Notable examples include James Allen, The Company Town in the American West (1966) (studying extractive towns); John Garner, The Model Company Town: Urban Design through Private Enterprise in Nineteenth‑Century New England (1984) (studying model mills towns amidst expansion); Margaret Crawford, Building the Workingman’s Paradise: The Design of American Company Towns (Mike Davis & Michael Sprinker eds., 1995) (focusing on the designs of company towns and their socio‑economic consequences); and Hardy Green, The Company Town: The Industrial Edens and Satanic Mills that Shaped the American Economy (2010) (exploring company towns’ dual nature as both opportunities and exploitation). Cf. Company Towns in the Americas: Landscape, Power, and Working‑Class Communities (Oliver J. Dinius & Angela Vergara eds., 2011) (six‑country case studies from the United States and Latin America); Company Towns: Labor, Space, and Power Relations Across Time and Continents (Marcelo J. Borges & Susana B. Torres eds., 2012). ↑
13. Porteous, supra note 1, at 411. ↑
14. James Scott, Seeing Like a State 11–15 (1998). On the influence of Scott’s idea on laws and spatial governance, see Mariana Valverde, Seeing Like a City: The Dialectic of Modern and Premodern Ways of Seeing in Urban Governance, 45 Law & Soc’y Rev. 277, 277–79 (2011). ↑
15. See Marc Van De Mieroop, Building in the High Desert: The Great Pyramid of Giza, 225 Groniek 391, 396–400 (2020). ↑
16. See Lydia Wilson Marshall, Slavery, Space, and Social Control on Plantations, 11 J. Afr. Diaspora Archaeology & Heritage 1, 1–3 (2022) (noting “how plantation spatial organization fostered the social control of enslaved people”). I thank Jaya Ramji‑Nogales for this point. ↑
17. Green, supra note 2. Notably, this definition is broader than those that require corporate property ownership. See, e.g., Crawford, supra note 12, at 1 (adopting a definition of company towns where “companies . . . also own[] a substantial part of the real estate and houses”) (quoting Horace P. Davis, Company Towns, in 4 Encyc. Soc. Sci. 119, 119 (1930)). ↑
18. Founded by George Pullman in 1860, the Pullman Company specialized in manufacturing luxury railroad sleeper cars. The History of Pullman, Hist. Pullman Found., https://‌‌www.pullmanil.org‌‌/the-history-of-pullman [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/LV6K-74VV]. ↑
19. See generally Chaim M. Rosenberg, The Life and Times of Francis Cabot Lowell, 1775−1817 (2010) (an in‑depth account of Francis Lowell Cabot). ↑
20. About Us, Hershey Co., https://‌‌www.thehersheycompany.com‌‌/en‌‌_us‌‌/home‌‌/about-us‌‌/milton-hershey.html [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/PWX6-J2GU]. ↑
21. See Linda Carlson, Company Towns of the Pacific Northwest 115−16 (2003) (describing the isolated nature of resource extraction towns). ↑
22. See id. at 12–13 (noting the varied nature of company towns depending on their industry). ↑
23. Margaret M. Mulrooney, A Legacy of Coal: The Coal Company Towns of Southwestern Pennsylvania 9–10 (1989) (explaining the economic rationale for the establishment of workers’ housing in company town); Allen, supra note 12, at 7 (“Mining companies establishing themselves in isolated areas often found it necessary to provide housing for workers in order to get them to come.”). ↑
24. See Crawford, supra note 12, at 22–28. ↑
25. Building America’s Industrial Revolution: The Boott Cotton Mills of Lowell, Massachusetts, Nat’l Park Serv., https://‌‌www.nps.gov‌‌/articles‌‌/building-america-s-industrial-revolution-the-boott-cotton-mills-of-lowell-massachusetts-teaching-with-historic-places.htm [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/8WKR-47EN] (Mar. 30, 2023). ↑
26. See Mary C. Beaudry & Stephen A. Mrozowski, The Archeology of Work and Home Life in Lowell, Massachusetts: An Interdisciplinary Study of the Boott Cotton Mills Corporation, 14 J. Soc’y for Indus. Archeology 1, 1–6 (1988). ↑
27. See Crawford, supra note 12, at 24–26. ↑
28. Building America’s Industrial Revolution, supra note 25. ↑
29. Mulrooney, supra note 23, at 12–19 (explaining the needs for housing as well as the impact of geographical variation within extractive industries). ↑
30. Id. at 16. ↑
31. Id. at 14. ↑
32. See John S. Garner, Introduction, in The Company Town: Architecture and Society in the Early Industrial Age 3–4 (John S. Garner ed., 1992) (labeling towns with numerous public amenities and community programs “model company towns” and contrasting them with towns where living conditions were lacking). ↑
33. Id. ↑
34. Id. at 7. ↑
35. Almont Lindsey, Paternalism and the Pullman Strike, 44 Am. Hist. Rev. 272, 275 (1939) (detailing the amenities available at Pullman). ↑
36. Id. at 277. ↑
37. See Crawford, supra note 12, at 36. ↑
38. Green, supra note 2, at 17 (quoting Charles Dickens’s account of his visit). American company towns might even have influenced Dickens’s image of the working women in his writings, so argues Chris Louttit, Lowell Revisited: Dickens and The Working Girl, 24 Dickens Q. 27, 27–36 (2007). ↑
39. Green, supra note 2, at 4, 17. ↑
40. Lindsey, supra note 35, at 280–81 (quoting George Pullman’s justification for the practice). ↑
41. See M. Todd Henderson, The Nanny Corporation, 76 U. Chi. L. Rev. 1517, 1536 (2009) (noting the self‑interest incentives of company towns). ↑
42. See Allen, supra note 12, at 98–101 (explaining the roles of religious and community events in developing cohesive communities despite the remote location of the towns). ↑
43. Id. ↑
44. On company towns’ paternalism and control of workers’ private activities, see infra notes 78−90 and accompanying text. ↑
45. See Stanley Buder, The Model Town of Pullman: Town Planning and Social Control in the Gilded Age, 33 J. Am. Inst. Planners 2, 2–5 (1967). ↑
46. See Crawford, supra note 12, at 34. ↑
47. Mary Lethert Wingerd, Rethinking Paternalism: Power and Parochialism in a Southern Mill Village, 83 J. Am. Hist. 872, 885 (1996). ↑
48. See Benedict Kingsbury, Infrastructure and InfraReg: On Rousing the International Law “Wizards of Is,” 8 Cambridge Int’l L.J. 171, 172, 177–84 (2019) (contemplating the regulatory effects of infrastructure ranging from the Panama Canal to internet platforms and advocating for the need to “think infrastructurally”); see also Sarah Schindler, Architectural Exclusion: Discrimination and Segregation through Physical Design of the Built Environment, 124 Yale L.J. 1934, 1934–37 (2015) (noting law’s inadequate attention to the phenomenon of architecture as a form of regulation). ↑
49. Benedict Kingsbury, Introduction to the Symposium on Infrastructuring International Law, 117 Am. J. Int’l L. Unbound 1, 2 (2023). ↑
50. See supra notes 24–28 and accompanying text (describing some of the unique features of company towns and their impact). ↑
51. See supra notes 26–27 and accompanying text (describing, for example, how housing was distributed based on company positions and skill levels). ↑
52. Rick J. Clyne, Coal People: Life in Southern Colorado’s Company Towns, 1890−1930, at 46 (Steven G. Grinstead & David Fridtjof Halaas eds., 1999) (describing the housing arrangements and the complex relationships that different ethnic groups shared with one another and with the coal company). ↑
53. See Robert S. Maxwell & Robert D. Baker, Sawdust Empire: The Texas Lumber Industry 145 (1983) (noting the lack of running water in segregated housing for Black workers). ↑
54. The Company Town: Architecture and Society, supra note 32, at 3. ↑
55. See Carlson, supra note 21, at 47. ↑
56. This idea echoes Deborah Archer’s prominent exploration of how purportedly neutral infrastructure such as the interstate highways perpetuated racial and socio‑economic inequality. See Deborah Archer, “White Men’s Roads through Black Men’s Homes”: Advancing Racial Equity through Highway Reconstruction, 73 Vand. L. Rev. 1259, 1263–65 (2020). ↑
57. See David Corbin, Life, Work, and Rebellion in the Coal Fields 63 (1981) (noting that though the wages paid to Black miners were less than wages paid to White miners, they dwarfed what Black workers made on plantations). ↑
58. See Allen, supra note 12, at 102 (noting the attraction of housing and company store credit to immigrants who arrived penniless). ↑
59. Infrastructure can play exclusionary roles while circumventing anti‑discrimination laws. See Lior Jacob Strahilevitz, Exclusionary Amenities in Residential Communities, 92 Va. L. Rev. 437, 437–41 (2006) (focusing on private properties and expensive amenities such as golf courses and concierges); Schindler, supra note 48, at 1953–73 (focusing on public infrastructure including transit stops, highway routes, and street signages). ↑
60. See Green, supra note 12, at 59. ↑
61. Id. (documenting how local sheriffs were paid directly by the companies to root out union activities, including through violence). ↑
62. Marsh v. Alabama, 326 U.S. 501, 503–04 (1946). ↑
63. Id. at 502, 508. ↑
64. See Jack M. Balkin, Free Speech Versus the First Amendment, 70 UCLA L. Rev. 1206, 1225–26 (2023) (noting that later cases have rejected the expansion of Marsh and, as a result, the case “was essentially confined to its facts”). ↑
65. See, e.g., Hackett v. Marmet, 52 F. 268, 268–69 (4th Cir. 1892) (noting certain lease provisions relating to company‑owned housing). ↑
66. Id.; Crawford, supra note 12, at 42 (noting that Pullman residents spent as much as 30 percent of their wages on rent). ↑
67. See generally Joseph C. Sweeney, Abolition of Wage Garnishment, 38 Fordham L. Rev. 197, 197–202 (1969) (noting the roots of wage garnishment practice during industrialization); Steven Willborn, Wage Garnishment: Efficiency, Fairness, and the Uniform Act, 49 Seton Hall L. Rev. 847, 851–55 (2019) (documenting efforts to create a uniform model law on wage garnishment). ↑
68. See Lindsey, supra note 35, at 281. ↑
69. See, e.g., Herbert Gutman, Two Lockouts in Pennsylvania, 1983−1874, 83 Pa. Mag. of Hist. and Biography 307, 317−19 (1959). ↑
70. Id. ↑
71. Id. at 312. ↑
72. See Andrew Roy, A History of the Coal Miners of the United States 101–02 (1907). ↑
73. See Roxanne T. Johnson, Scrip: The Alternative Unit‑of‑Measure in Company Towns, 16 Acct. Historians Notebook 6, 6–7 (1993). ↑
74. Id. ↑
75. See infra notes 91–92 (noting states’ legislative efforts to ban scrips). ↑
76. See Green, supra note 12, at 57. See generally Porteous, supra note 1 (noting the control companies exercised over their workers). ↑
77. Tennessee Ernie Ford, Sixteen Tons (Capitol Records 1955). ↑
78. Corporate paternalism—or “paternalistic leadership” in business management parlance—refers to a corporate management style where enterprise owners take an interest in employees’ private lives, akin to a patriarch or matriarch. See John T. Landry, The Coming Age of Corporate Paternalism, Harv. Bus. Rev. (Apr. 11, 2011), https://‌‌hbr.org‌‌/2011‌‌/04‌‌/in-hbr-and-elsewhere-a-1 [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/4HLL-TCFF ]; David Blanke, Book Reviews, 99 J. Am. Hist. 561, 561–63 (2012) (reviewing Joshua Y. Yates & James D. Hunter, Thrift and Thriving in America: Capitalism and Moral Order from the Puritans to the Present (2011)). But see Henderson, supra note 41, at 1534 (arguing that corporate practices that control employees’ behaviors, termed “corporate nannyism,” are “about economics, not domination”). ↑
79. See Margaret Crawford, Earle S. Draper and the Company Town in the American South, in The Company Town: Architecture and Society, supra note 32, at 139, 144 (noting that control was possible thanks to company‑provided housing and public amenities). ↑
80. See Industrial and Labor Conditions: Company Stores and the Scrip System, 41 Monthly Lab. Rev. 45, 45 (1935); John Rumbarger, Profits, Power, and Prohibition: Alcohol Reform and the Industrializing of America, 1800−1930, at 130–40 (Harry G. Levine et al. eds., 1989) (exploring the roles of company towns and businesses’ moral ethos in the United States’ anti‑liquor and anti‑drug movements). ↑
81. See M. Todd Henderson, The Story of Dodge v. Ford Motor Company: Everything Old Is New Again, in Corporate Law Stories 37, 50–52 (J. Mark Ramseyer ed., 2009); see also Steven Watts, The People’s Tycoon: Henry Ford and the American Century 202–14, 219–24 (2005). ↑
82. See Watts, supra note 81, at 203–05, 220. ↑
83. See, e.g., Carlson, supra note 21, at 210. ↑
84. See Crawford, supra note 12, at 146. ↑
85. See Allen, supra note 12, at 122–23 (discussing the companies’ hostile view towards unions); see also Corbin, supra note 57, at 117, 188; Allen, supra note 12, at 57, 60 (discussing Marsh v. Alabama and the public function doctrine). ↑
86. Yates, supra note 78, at 315–16 (quoting Benjamin Franklin, Poor Richard’s Almanack (1758) (noting the “new cultural disciplines” of “economic virtues” of the nineteenth century). ↑
87. Carlson, supra note 21, at 10. ↑
88. See Mulrooney, supra note 23, at 10–11. ↑
89. See id. ↑
90. Marsh v. Alabama, 326 U.S. 501, 502, 508 (1946); see also supra notes 62−64 and accompanying text (discussing the reach and limits of Marsh). ↑
91. In the court’s words, regulators cannot:prevent persons who are sui juris from making their own contracts. The act is an infringement alike of the rights of the employer and the employe[e]. More than this, it is an insulting attempt to put the laborer under a legislative tutelage, which is not only degrading to his manhood, but subversive of his rights as a citizen of the United States. He may sell his labor for what he thinks best, whether money or goods, just as his employer may sell his iron or coal; and any and every law that proposes to prevent him from so doing is an infringement of his constitutional privileges, and consequently vicious and void.Godcharles v. Wigeman, 6 A. 354, 356 (Pa. 1886). ↑
92. Leo E. Strine, Jr., A Job Is Not a Hobby: The Judicial Revival of Corporate Paternalism and Its Problematic Implications, 41 J. Corp. L. 71, 81 (2015). ↑
93. 29 C.F.R. § 531.34 (1938). See generally 29 U.S.C. §§ 201−19 (1938). ↑
94. Brennan v. Heard, 491 F.2d 1, 4 (5th Cir. 1974), overruled on other grounds by McLaughlin v. Richland Shoe Co., 486 U.S. 128 (1988). ↑
95. 42 U.S.C. ch. 7 (1935). ↑
96. 29 U.S.C. §§ 151–69 (1935). ↑
97. Franklin D. Roosevelt, State of the Union Message to Congress (Jan. 11, 1944). ↑
98. See Brian Highsmith, Governing the Company Town, Stan. L. Rev., (forthcoming 2025) (manuscript at 20–21) (on file with author). ↑
99. See People ex rel. Moloney v. Pullman’s Palace‑Car Co., 51 N.E. 664 (Ind. App. 1898). ↑
100. See Stanley Buder, Pullman: An Experiment in Industrial Order and Community Planning 1880–1930, at 212–16 (1967). ↑
101. Deindustrialization in the United States is the subject of a large interdisciplinary literature. See, e.g., Tracy Neumann, Remaking the Rust Belt: The Postindustrial Transformation of North America (2016) (comparing two former steel towns in the United States and Canada in the aftermaths of globalization); After the Factory: Reinventing America’s Industrial Small Cities (James J. Connolly et al. eds., 2010) (presenting case studies on how various cities coped with job loss and factory close‑down). For a comparative perspective from Europe, see Lutz Raphael, Beyond Coal and Steel: A Social History of Western Europe After the Boom (2024), documenting the slow demise of old industries in Britain, France, and West Germany. But see Highsmith, supra note 98, at 10–11 (arguing that company towns, best seen as a democratic phenomenon of jurisdictional fragmentation, have endured). ↑
102. See Crawford, supra note 12, at 201. ↑
103. Id. (“By connecting residents with the world outside, the automobile mitigated the repressive aspects of the company town.”). ↑
104. See Garner, supra note 12, at 222. ↑
105. See Clyne, supra note 52, at 99. ↑
106. See Green, supra note 2, at 16–18 (providing examples of the “suburban corporate campus” including the Hormel Corporation (meatpacking) and Corning Inc. (glassmaking)). ↑
107. For a brief history of the legal and economic organization of global supply chains, see Trang (Mae) Nguyen, Hidden Power in Global Supply Chains, 64 Harv. Int’l L.J. 35, 45–60 (2023). See also Jennifer A. Delton, The Industrialists: How the National Association of Manufacturers Shaped American Capitalism 237–64 (Eric Crahan & Thalia Leaf eds., 2022) (documenting the controversial roles of the National Association of Manufacturers, a business association, in its advocacy for outsourcing and trade liberalization during the period of U.S. deindustrialization). ↑
108. See supra note 101 (deindustrialization in the United States and elsewhere). ↑
109. See Nguyen, supra note 107, at 45–60 (tracing the evolution of “dispersed production”). ↑
110. See infra notes 112–113, 124–137 and accompanying text. ↑
111. For example, compare The History of Pullman, supra note 18, with Pun Ngai & Jenny Chan, Global Capital, the State, and Chinese Workers: The Foxconn Experience, 38 Modern China 383 (2012). ↑
112. See Richard Baldwin, The Great Convergence: Information Technology and the New Globalization 47–110 (2016) (summarizing the two eras of globalization). The first unbundling, lasting from the Industrial Revolution of 1820 to around 1990, was about the decoupling of the production of goods from the consumption of goods, whereas the second unbundling, from 1990 onwards, was about fragmenting the process of production itself. See Nguyen, supra note 107 (providing a brief summary on the evolution of global value chains). ↑
113. See Martin Kenney, Introduction, in Locating Global Advantage: Industry Dynamics in the International Economy 4–12 (Martin Kenney & Richard Florida eds., 2004) (theorizing the dynamics that facilitated early globalization); Neil M. Coe & Henry Wai‑Chung Yeung, Global Production Networks: Theorizing Economic Development in an Interconnected World 2–3 (2015) (noting historical shifts in the geography of global production). ↑
114. See generally Greg Grandin, Fordlândia: The Rise and Fall of Henry Ford’s Forgotten Jungle City 5–25 (2009) (arguing that Fordlândia was symptomatic of a larger movement of American economic imperialism). ↑
115. Id.; See also Mark R. Finlay, Growing American Rubber: Strategic Plants and the Politics of National Security 25–35 (2009) (noting the importance of rubber for the United States military and defense industries). ↑
116. See Grandin, supra note 114, at 108–23 (documenting the negotiations among Ford, the Brasilia government, local officials, and impacted communities). ↑
117. Id. at 123–47 (Fordlândia’s construction). ↑
118. See id. at 165–80 (describing managerial practices at Fordlândia). ↑
119. See Drew Reed, Lost Cities #10: Fordlândia—The Failure of Henry Ford’s Utopian City in the Amazon, Guardian (Aug. 19, 2016), https://‌‌www.theguardian.com‌‌/cities‌‌/2016‌‌/aug‌‌/19‌‌/lost-cities-10-Fordlândia-failure-henry-ford-amazon [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/XES9-5DLM]; see also Grandin, supra note 114, at 5 (quoting the Washington Post that Ford was bringing “white man’s magic” to the wilderness). ↑
120. See Grandin, supra note 114. ↑
121. Id. ↑
122. Id. ↑
123. See Heather Barrow, The Reach of an Automotive Giant: Urban Implications of an Industrial Policy, 37 J. Urb. Hist. 297, 297–301 (2011). ↑
124. See supra note 112 and accompanying text. ↑
125. For notable works on the impact of shipping logistics on trade and globalization, see Edna Bonacich & Jake Wilson, Getting the Goods: Ports, Labor, and the Logistics Revolution (2008), which documents the significance of logistics industries, and Marc Levinson, The Box: How the Shipping Container Made the World Smaller and the World Economy Bigger (2006), which traces the history and global impact of standardized container boxes. ↑
126. See Baldwin, supra note 112, at 47–78; see also Michael E. Porter, The Competitive Advantage of Nations, Harv. Bus. Rev., (Mar.–Apr. 1990), https://‌‌hbr.org‌‌/1990‌‌/03‌‌/the-competitive-advantage-of-nations [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/JYG9-TLJL] (studying how various countries supported their prime industries). ↑
127. See generally Kenneth Pomeranz, The Great Divergence: China, Europe, and the Making of the Modern World Economy (2001) (arguing that Global North countries were able to take advantage of resource‑extensive, labor‑saving growth, while developing countries in Asia were forced down an opposite path). ↑
128. See Peter Buckley, Globalization and the Multinational Enterprise, in Oxford Handbook Strategy 698, 699–703 (Andrew Campbell & David Faulkner eds., 2006) (noting the correlation between dispersed production and the creation of the multinational corporate form, which was designed to exploit the different levels of integration in international markets). ↑
129. Id. ↑
130. See Baldwin, supra note 112, at 79–110; Pol Antràs & Alonso Gortari, On the Geography of Global Value Chains, 84 Econometrica 1553 (2020). ↑
131. See U.N. Conf. on Trade & Dev., Key Statistics and Trends in International Trade 13 (2022), https://‌‌unctad.org‌‌/system‌‌/files‌‌/official-document‌‌/ditctab2022d3‌‌_en.pdf [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/924N-L3A7] (noting that in 2019 intermediate products represent almost half of world trade in goods). ↑
132. See Antràs & Gortari, supra note 130, at 1553–57 (developing a model on how firms pick the optimal locations for their supply chains). ↑
133. See Nguyen, supra note 107, at 50–58 (describing the reconsolidation of global value chains and the rise of first‑tier suppliers); Richard P. Appelbaum, Transnational Contractors in East Asia, in The Market Makers: How Retailers Are Reshaping the Global Economy 255, 255–57 (Gary Hamilton et al. eds., 2011) (noting the proliferation of lead suppliers cross a number of industries). ↑
134. See Nguyen, supra note 107, at 50–58 (using the terms Big Suppliers, first‑tier suppliers, top‑tier suppliers, and lead suppliers interchangeably to refer to these large companies). ↑
135. See id. (noting the economic and regulatory drivers of supply chain reconsolidation). ↑
136. Id. ↑
137. For one definition of supply chain management, see, for example, What is Supply Chain Management?, IBM, https://‌‌www.ibm.com‌‌/topics‌‌/supply-chain-management [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/ ZD2Y-GY34] (“Supply chain management (SCM) is the coordination of a business’ entire production flow, from sourcing raw materials to delivering a finished item.”). ↑
138. For examples of the comprehensive services provided by transnational suppliers, see Nguyen, supra note 107, at 52–53, which notes examples from the textiles and electronic equipment industries. ↑
139. See id. at 68–80 (arguing that the rise of transnational suppliers implicates a suite of public and private law issues ranging from cross‑border contracts to national security). ↑
140. See Timothy Sturgeon et al., Making the Global Supply Base, in The Market Makers: How Retailers Are Reshaping the Global Economy, supra note 133, at 231, 235–41 (summarizing the historical development of Global South’s supplying economies). ↑
141. See Nguyen, supra note 107, at 56–58 (explaining how international trade law and domestic industrial policies resulted in the consolidation of supply chains in the textile and semiconductor industries). ↑
142. See Hon Hai Precision Indus. Co., 2020 Annual Report 15, 105 (2021), https://‌‌image.honhai.com‌‌/financy‌‌_by‌‌_year‌‌/%E9%B4%BB%E6%B5%B7109%E5%B9%B4%E5%A0%B1‌‌_EN-v2‌‌_(2).pdf [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/7TNA-QXS3]; Hon Hai Precision Indus. Co., 2019 Corporate Social Responsibility Report 38 (2020), https://‌‌image.honhai.com‌‌/reports‌‌/CSR‌‌/EN‌‌/2019‌‌/2019%E9%B4%BB%E6%B5%B7%20CSR%20report-%E8%8B%B1%E6%96%87%E7%89%88.pdf [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/CR87-SJJS]. ↑
143. The Taiwan Semiconductor Manufacturing Company (TSMC) is the biggest semiconductor manufacturing foundry in the world. See About TSMC, Taiwan Semiconductor Mfg. Co., https://‌‌www.tsmc.com‌‌/english‌‌/aboutTSMC [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/V3WS-DW6A]. ↑
144. See Deloitte, The Power of Synchronization: The Case of TAL Apparel Group 1 (2005), https://‌‌www.talapparel.com‌‌/uploads‌‌/news‌‌/97‌‌/TALnewsPDF1%20(1)-20160104123524.pdf [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/FZ72-W7RR] (noting that TAL has production facilities around the world, including in the United States). ↑
145. See infra notes 179–187 and accompanying text (describing the Luen Thai‑Liz Clairborne facility in Dongguan). ↑
146. See Corporate Information, Yue Yuen Indus. (Holdings) Ltd., https://‌‌www.yueyuen.com‌‌/en‌‌/corporate‌‌_information.html [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/R88U-XG8B]; Manufacturing Business, Yue Yuen Indus. (Holdings) Ltd., https://‌‌www.yueyuen.com‌‌/en‌‌/iframe-manufacturing-business.html [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/6WYN-NFRX]. ↑
147. Although Li & Fung does not own factories, it is known as “the Walmart of purchasing.” Li & Fung rose to fame thanks to its attractive offerings of customized value chains that include specialized services, logistics management, rapid order fulfillment, and materials sourcing. Ian Ubrina & Keith Bradsher, Linking Factories to the Malls, Middleman Pushes Low Costs, N.Y. Times (Oct. 3, 2014), https://‌‌www.nytimes.com‌‌/2013‌‌/08‌‌/08‌‌/world‌‌/linking-factories-to-the-malls-middleman-pushes-low-costs.html [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/8DRZ-DBCR]; see also Our Business, Li & Fung Ltd., https://‌‌www.lifung.com‌‌/supply-chain-innovation‌‌/our-business [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/N7DX-4TBC]. ↑
148. See Nguyen, supra note 107, at 60–68 (presenting case studies on how Big Suppliers leverage their power through contract, business organization, and manufacturing models). ↑
149. Id. at 69–81 (explicating the legal and policy implications of Big Suppliers). ↑
150. Thomas Farole & Gokhan Akinci, World Bank, Special Economic Zones: Progress, Emerging Challenges, and Future Directions 1, 3 (Farole & Akinci eds., 2011). ↑
151. See Claude Baissac, Brief History of SEZs and Overview of Policy Debates, in World Bank, Special Economic Zones in Africa: Comparing Performance and Learning from Global Experience 23, 31–35 (2011) (exploring various types of SEZs). ↑
152. “Treaty ports” were so‑called due to their origination from a series of “unequal treaties” between the declining Qing dynasty and victorious Western powers, including Great Britain, France, and the United States, between 1839 and 1860. After suffering several critical military losses during the Opium Wars, as conditions for peace, the Qing dynasty agreed to cede the territory of Hong Kong to Great Britain, pay a hefty indemnity for war losses, and open up her many ports for foreign trade. For a comprehensive history, see Dong Wang, China’s Unequal Treaties: Narrating National History (2005). For an international law perspective that grapples with these treaties’ oppressive terms, see Cornelius Murphy, Economic Duress and Unequal Treaties, 11 Va. J. Int’l L. 51, 51–54 (1970). ↑
153. See James Dietz, Economic History of Puerto Rico: Institutional Change and Capitalist Development 240–81 (1987) (documenting how Operation Bootstrap had transformed Puerto Rico into a manufacturing territory and generated new patterns of migration and employment among Puerto Rican workforces). ↑
154. See Baissac, supra note 151, at 32–33. ↑
155. See, e.g., Douglas Zhihua Zeng, How Do Special Economic Zones and Industrial Clusters Drive China’s Rapid Development?, in Building Engines for Growth and Competitiveness in China 1, 9 (Douglas Zhihua Zeng ed., 2010). ↑
156. See, e.g., Keyi Tang, The Political Economy of Special Economic Zones: The Cases of Ethiopia and Vietnam, 30 Rev. Int’l Pol. Econ. 1957, 1968–73 (detailing how SEZ “rising stars” such as Ethiopia and Vietnam learned from mainland Chinese and Taiwanese experience). ↑
157. Farole & Akinci, supra note 150, at 5 (noting the rising trend); New Global Alliance of Special Economic Zones to Boost Development, U.N. Trade & Dev. (May 17, 2022), https://‌‌unctad.org‌‌/news‌‌/new-global-alliance-special-economic-zones-boost-development [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/VHS7-WH8G] (noting the creation of the Global Alliance of Special Economic Zones). ↑
158. Gokhan Akinci & James Crittle, Special Economic Zones: Performance, Lessons Learned, and Implications for Zone Development 9–12 (World Bank Foreign Inv. Advisory Serv., Working Paper No. 45869, 2008). ↑
159. See U.N. Conf. on Trade & Dev., World Investment Report 2019: Special Economic Zones, 3, 138 (2019), https://‌‌unctad.org‌‌/system‌‌/files‌‌/official-document‌‌/wir2019‌‌_en.pdf [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/36U8-DLC4]. ↑
160. Rajneesh Narula & James X. Zhan, Using Special Economic Zones to Facilitate Development: Policy Implications, 26 Transnat’l Corp. 1, 2 (2019). ↑
161. Id. ↑
162. Id. ↑
163. See Sebastian Heilmann, Policy Experimentation in China’s Economic Rise, 43 Compar. Int’l Dev. 7–9 (2008) (noting the use of SEZs as “experimental zones” in China for unorthodox policies). ↑
164. Julien Chaisse & Georgios Dimitropoulos, Special Economic Zones in International Economic Law: Towards Unilateral Economic Law?, 24 J. Int’l Econ. L. 229, 229–31 (2021). ↑
165. Manjiao Chi, Regulation of Special Economic Zones Through Regional Trade Agreements: Confronting the Synergy Issue, 24 J. Int’l Econ. L. 423, 426–27 (2021). ↑
166. See, e.g., Herbert Jauch, Export Processing Zones and the Quest for Sustainable Development: A Southern African Perspective, 14 Env’t. & Urbanization 101, 101–13 (2002) (arguing that SEZs led to a regional race to the bottom in the South African region); Ngai & Chan, supra note 111, at 383−410 (arguing that industrial clusters in China led to a deterioration in Chinese workers’ rights). ↑
167. See, e.g., Susanne Frick & Andrés Rodríguez‑Pose, Are Special Economic Zones in Emerging Countries a Catalyst for the Growth of Surrounding Areas?, 26 Transn’l Corp. J. 75, 75–76 (2019) (finding quantitative evidence of SEZ growth spillovers, albeit limited and subject to a strong distance decay effect). ↑
168. See supra notes 158–160 and accompanying text. ↑
169. See supra Sections I.A−B (explaining the features of the old company towns). ↑
170. See Ngai & Chan, supra note 111, at 383–410. ↑
171. Id. ↑
172. Id. at 392. ↑
173. Jason Dean, The Forbidden City of Terry Gou, Wall St. J. (Aug. 11, 2007), https://‌‌www.wsj.com‌‌/articles‌‌/SB118677584137994489 [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/BB9T-96Y7]; Brian Merchant, Life and Death in Apple’s Forbidden City, Guardian (June 18, 2017), https://‌‌www.theguardian.com‌‌/technology‌‌/2017‌‌/jun‌‌/18‌‌/foxconn-life-death-forbidden-city-longhua-suicide-apple-iphone-brian-merchant-one-device-extract [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/F83H-QCBK]. ↑
174. See Dean, supra note 173. ↑
175. Id. ↑
176. Id. ↑
177. See generally Jenny Chan et al., Dying for an iPhone: Apple, Foxconn, and China’s Workers (2020) (documenting the harsh realities within Foxconn’s “iPhone cities”). ↑
178. See David Barboza, After Suicides, Scrutiny of China’s Grim Factories, N.Y. Times (June 6, 2010), https://‌‌www.nytimes.com‌‌/2010‌‌/06‌‌/07‌‌/business‌‌/global‌‌/07suicide.html [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/X8WG-52EM]. ↑
179. The MFA created a special quota regime as an exception to the trade framework set up by the General Agreement on Tariffs and Trade (GATT), the precursor to the World Trade Organization (WTO). See Textiles: Back in the Mainstream, WTO, https://‌‌www.wto.org‌‌/english‌‌/thewto‌‌_e‌‌/whatis‌‌_e‌‌/tif‌‌_e‌‌/agrm5‌‌_e.htm [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/UZ28-R38R] (noting that the MFA regimes were exceptions to the GATT’s non‑discrimination principle); see also Behind the “Factory of the World,” Dongguan Foreign Inv. Promotion Ctr., https://‌‌fipc.dg.gov.cn‌‌/ywb‌‌/newsevents‌‌/photonews‌‌/content‌‌/post‌‌_3838133.html [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/F5MJ-MP6Z]. ↑
180. See Nguyen, supra note 107; supra Section I.B (describing the impact of the MFA). ↑
181. See Staci Kusterbeck, China Appeals to U.S. Buyers with ‘Supply Chain Cities,’ Retail Info Sys. (Aug. 1, 2005), https://‌‌risnews.com‌‌/special-feature-china-appeals-us-buyers-supply-chain-cities [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/6BMF-4WLN]; From Fashion to Fish: How Hong Kong’s Luen Thai Holdings Learned to Shift with the Wind, Knowledge at Wharton (Mar. 31, 2010), https://‌‌knowledge.wharton.upenn.edu‌‌/article‌‌/from-fashion-to-fish-how-hong-kongs-luen-thai-holdings-learned-to-shift-with-the-wind [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/GYE5-4FF3]. ↑
182. See Gabriel Kahn, Making Labels for Less: Supply‑Chain City Transforms Far‑Flung Apparel Industry; Help for ‘the Button Guy,’ Wall St. J. (Aug. 13, 2004), https://‌‌www.wsj.com‌‌/articles‌‌/SB109234318406290158 [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/8SVS-XU6B]. ↑
183. Nguyen, supra note 107, at 65. ↑
184. From Fashion to Fish: How Hong Kong’s Luen Thai Holdings Learned to Shift with the Wind, supra note 181. ↑
185. See Appelbaum, supra note 133, at 261 (noting Luen Thai’s model of “design to store”). ↑
186. Id. ↑
187. See William R. Kerr & Frederic Robert‑Nicoud, Tech Clusters 3 (Harv. Bus. Sch., Working Paper No. 20‑063, 2020) (noting that the concept of “[c]lusters” “traditionally indicate an important overall scale of local activity, complemented by spatial density and linkages among local firms”). ↑
188. Will Buckingham & Kam Wing Chan, One City, Two Systems: Chengzhongcun in China’s Urban System, 27 J. Contemp. China 584, 584–95 (2018); Shitong Qiao, Small Property, Big Market: A Focal Point Explanation, 63 Am. J. Compar. L. 197, 197–202 (2015). Urban villages in global supply chain context are to be distinguished from Western “urban villages,” which are village‑style urban neighborhoods. ↑
189. See Buckingham & Chan, supra note 188. ↑
190. See Li Zhang & Xianxiang Xu, Land Policy and Urbanization in the People’s Republic of China 2–7 (Asian Dev. Bank Inst., Working Paper No. 614, 2016). For an analysis of how laws can legitimize and facilitate land takings in development context, see Connie Carter, Consent Not Coercion: Rethinking the Taking of Land for “Development,” in Land Grabs in Asia: What Role for the Law? 1, 1–10 (Connie Carter & Andrew Harding eds., 2015). ↑
191. See Zhang & Xu, supra note 190. ↑
192. See Bin Jiang, The Foxconn Factory: Site, Methods, and Procedure for Design Interventions, in Landscape Empowerment 2, 4 (Bin Jiang ed., 2017). ↑
193. See Pu Hao et al., Spatial Analyses of the Urban Village Development Process in Shenzhen, China, 37 Int’l J. Urb. & Reg’l Rsch. 2177, 2177–80 (2013). ↑
194. See id. at 2180. ↑
195. See Qiao, supra note 188, at 212–20 (analyzing the peri‑urban property market). ↑
196. See Chia Woon Eunice Chua & Nguyen Dieu Tu Uyen, Factory Sleepovers Help Guard Vietnam’s Workers from Virus Outbreaks, Bloomberg (July 6, 2021), https://‌‌www.bloomberg.com‌‌/news‌‌/newsletters‌‌/2021-07-06‌‌/supply-china-latest-vietnamese-workers-avoid-virus-by-sleeping-at-work [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/NB73-4Z5V] (contrasting white‑collar workers who could work from home during the pandemic and blue‑collar workers whose physical labor is needed to sustain export‑oriented economies). ↑
197. See Pou Chen Group’s Efforts in Response to COVID‑19 Pandemic, Pouchen ESG News (May 31, 2021), https://‌‌www.pouchen.com‌‌/index.php‌‌/en‌‌/csr‌‌/esg-news‌‌/56-csr‌‌_2020‌‌/803-pcc-csr-news-200531-en [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/734Q-EGPM]. ↑
198. See Samsung Viet Nam Day Manh Cac Bien Phap Phong Dich COVID‑19 [Samsung Vietnam Increases Measures to Prevent Covid‑19], Samsung Newsroom (May 14, 2021), https://‌‌news.samsung.com‌‌/vn‌‌/samsung-viet-nam-day-manh-cac-bien-phap-phong-dich-covid-19 [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/KQ5R-7VV5]. ↑
199. See Lien Hoang, Samsung Suspends Vietnam Factories Hit by COVID: Health Ministry, Nikkei Asia (July 14, 2021), https://‌‌asia.nikkei.com‌‌/Spotlight‌‌/Coronavirus‌‌/Samsung-suspends-Vietnam-factories-hit-by-COVID-health-ministry [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/6ANJ-QFA6]; see Phuong Nguyen & James Pearson, Vietnam Coronavirus Outbreak Threatens to Disrupt Tech Supply Chains, Reuters (May 28, 2021), https://‌‌www.reuters.com‌‌/technology‌‌/vietnam-coronavirus-outbreak-threatens-disrupt-tech-supply-chain-2021-05-28 [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/8KLB-FP2R]. ↑
200. See Trang (Mae) Nguyen & Edmund Malesky, Reopening Vietnam: How the Country’s Improving Governance Helped it Weather the COVID‑19 Pandemic, Brookings Inst. (May 20, 2020), https://‌‌www.brookings.edu‌‌/blog‌‌/order-from-chaos‌‌/2020‌‌/05‌‌/20‌‌/reopening-vietnam-how-the-countrys-improving-governance-helped-it-weather-the-covid-19-pandemic [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/M7NR-U328]. ↑
201. See Taiwan Tech Giants Foxconn and TSMC to Buy 10m COVID Jabs, BBC (July 12, 2021), https://‌‌www.bbc.com‌‌/news‌‌/business-57801031 [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/M58P-RPT9]. ↑
202. See Joyu Wang & Chao Deng, Tech Firms to Buy Covid‑19 Vaccines on Behalf of Taiwan’s Government, Wall St. J. (July 12, 2021), https://‌‌www.wsj.com‌‌/articles‌‌/tech-firms-to-buy-covid-19-vaccines-on-behalf-of-taiwans-government-11626020496 [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/4YKV-B8MU] (“[T]he roundabout arrangement with TSMC and Foxconn effectively ends a monthslong geopolitical impasse over whether Taiwan could buy vaccines directly from BioNTech.”). ↑
203. See, e.g., Lien Hoang, Intel Staff Vaccinated as Vietnam Prioritizes Tech Exports, Nikkei Asia (July 13, 2021), https://‌‌asia.nikkei.com‌‌/Business‌‌/Companies‌‌/Intel-staff-vaccinated-as-Vietnam-prioritizes-tech-exports [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/TT6N-BKB6?type=image]. ↑
204. Id. ↑
205. See Huong Le Thu, Delta Variant Outbreak Challenges Vietnam’s COVID‑19 Response Strategy, Brookings Inst. (Aug. 11, 2021), https://‌‌www.brookings.edu‌‌/blog‌‌/order-from-chaos‌‌/2021‌‌/08‌‌/11‌‌/delta-variant-outbreak-challenges-vietnams-covid-19-response-strategy [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/76X9-889W]. ↑
206. See supra notes 169–195 and accompanying text (on supply chain cities). ↑
207. See Ho‑Don Yan, Managing Electronic Manufacturing Service (EMS)—Terry Gou and the Making of Foxconn, 4 Kindai Mgmt. Rev. 40, 43, 52 (2016) (summarizing Foxconn’s M&A activities). ↑
208. See supra note 146. ↑
209. See Tang, supra note 156, at 1968. ↑
210. See Yang Jinxi et al., In Depth: How Chinese Factories are Finding their Way to Mexico, Nikkei Asia (July 2, 2022), https://‌‌asia.nikkei.com‌‌/Spotlight‌‌/Caixin‌‌/In-Depth-How-Chinese-factories-are-finding-their-way-to-Mexico [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/P6TL-YA45]. Japan has long had a presence in Mexico’s maquiladoras to support its automobile and electronic industries. See Martin Kenney & Richard Florida, Japanese Maquiladoras: Production Organization and Global Commodity Chains, 22 World Dev. 27, 29−31 (1994). ↑
211. See Entrepôt, Oxford‑Hachette French Dictionary 320–21, 655 (Marie‑Hélène Corréard et al. eds., Oxford Univ. Press 4th ed. 2007). ↑
212. See Entrepôt, Merriam‑Webster, https://‌‌www.merriam-webster.com‌‌/dictionary‌‌/entrepot [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/H5J4-AE22]. ↑
213. See J. Russell Smith, The World Entrepôt, 18 J. Pol. Econ. 697, 697–700 (1910). ↑
214. See supra notes 151–155 and accompanying text (noting early examples of SEZs that function as commercial entrepôts). ↑
215. See supra notes 160–162 and accompanying text (noting the policy goals of special zones). ↑
216. See Quinn Slobodian, Crack‑Up Capitalism: Market Radicals and the Dream of a World Without Democracy 4 (2023). ↑
217. Norm, Merriam‑Webster, https://‌‌www.merriam-webster.com‌‌/dictionary‌‌/norm [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/99HP-Q9AX] (defining “norm” as “an authoritative standard” or “a principle of right action binding upon the members of a group and serving to guide, control, or regulate proper and acceptable behavior”). ↑
218. Norm, Black’s Law Dictionary (11th ed. 2019) (defining “norm” as “[a] model or standard accepted (voluntarily or involuntarily) by society or other large group, against which society judges someone or something”). ↑
219. See Nguyen, supra note 107, at 39 and accompanying text (defining the governance gap in global value chains). ↑
220. See Gregory C. Shaffer, How Business Shapes Law: A Socio‑Legal Framework, 42 Conn. L. Rev. 147, 172–73 (2009) (describing the pathways through which private actors can affect norms in international business settings); see also Kenneth W. Abbott et al., Theorizing Regulatory Intermediaries: The RIT Model, 670 Annals Am. Acad. Pol. & Soc. Sci. 14, 15 (2017). ↑
221. See Martha Finnemore & Kathryn Sikkink, International Norm Dynamics and Political Change, 52 Int’l Org. 887, 890–95 (1998) (conceptualizing “norm cascades” as a process through which nonstate actors such as non‑governmental organizations and firms act as “norm entrepreneurs” in treaty making); see also Melissa Durkee, International Lobbying Law, 127 Yale L.J. 1742, 1767–70 (2018) (revealing how corporate access to international organizations create a phenomenon of private international lobbying). ↑
222. See Finnemore & Sikkink, supra note 221, at 895. ↑
223. See Julian Arato, Corporations as Lawmakers, 56 Harv. Int’l L.J. 229, 229–37 (2015) (describing how investor‑state arbitrations enable private investors to define the terms of bilateral investment treaties). ↑
224. See Melissa J. Durkee, Interpretive Entrepreneurs, 107 Va. L. Rev. 431, 433–40, 458 (2021) (describing how businesses actively push their own interpretions of international norms through trade associations and third‑party experts). ↑
225. See supra Section I.B (outlining the corporate control order in past company towns). ↑
226. See Jay Butler, The Corporate Keepers of International Law, 114 Am. J. Int’l L. 189, 209–10 (2020) (noting financial institutions’ codification of the Equator Principles in their lending agreements as an example of corporate enforcement of international law). ↑
227. See Tim Büthe & Walter Mattli, The New Global Rulers: The Privatization of Regulation in the World Economy 1–17 (2011) (studying rulemaking by privately‑backed technical experts). ↑
228. See generally Galit A. Sarfaty, Shining Light on Global Supply Chains, 56 Harv. Int’l L.J. 419, 427–31 (2015) (summarizing national and international laws aimed at regulating transnational harms in global value chains). See also Kishanthi Parella, Outsourcing Corporate Accountability, 89 Wash. L. Rev. 747, 769–84 (2014) (describing monitoring laws in response to value chain abuses); IGLP L. & Glob. Prod. Working Grp., The Role of Law in Global Value Chains: A Research Manifesto, 4 London Rev. Int’l L. 57, 63–64 (2016) (noting that the difficulty in regulating global value chains results from a fundamental mismatch between “a territorial logic of law and the transnational logic of capital”). ↑
229. See supra Section II.B (analyzing the rise of transnational suppliers). ↑
230. On infrastructures and economic arrangements as regulations, see Kingsbury, supra note 48. ↑
231. See supra Part II. ↑
232. See supra notes 150–155 and accompanying text (describing special economic zones). ↑
233. This business‑driven definition is different from another use of the term “regulatory fragmentation” that refers to “the division of regulatory authority . . . among many laws and jurisdictions.” Robin Kundis Craig, Climate Change, Regulatory Fragmentation, and Water Triage, 79 U. Colo. L. Rev. 825, 828 (2008). ↑
234. See supra note 146 (Yue Yuen’s corporate materials). ↑
235. See, e.g., Steven Greenhouse, Nike Shoe Plant in Vietnam is Called Unsafe for Workers, N.Y. Times (Nov. 8, 1997), https://‌‌www.nytimes.com‌‌/1997‌‌/11‌‌/08‌‌/business‌‌/nike-shoe-plant-in-vietnam-is-called-unsafe-for-workers.html [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/MY7K-292R]; Burhan Wazir, Nike Accused of Tolerating Sweatshops, Guardian (May 19, 2001), https://‌‌www.theguardian.com‌‌/world‌‌/2001‌‌/may‌‌/20‌‌/burhanwazir.theobserver [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/HHV2-SQVF]. ↑
236. See Lynn S. Paine, Sustainability in the Boardroom: Lessons from Nike’s Playbook, Harv. Bus. Rev., July–Aug. 2014, at 87, 90 (2014) (crediting Nike’s creation of a board‑level corporate responsibility committee for its success in turning around Nike’s image). ↑
237. See Jeroen Merk, Restructuring and Conflict in the Global Athletic Footwear Industry: Nike, Yue Yuen and Labour Codes of Conduct, in Global Economy Contested: Power and Conflict Across the International Division of Labour 79, 90 (Marcus Taylor ed., 2008). ↑
238. See id. ↑
239. U.S. Off. of Energy Efficiency & Renewable Energy, Solar Photovoltaic Manufacturing Basics, https://‌‌www.energy.gov‌‌/eere‌‌/solar‌‌/solar-photovoltaic-manufacturing-basics [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/EGS9-SFP2]. ↑
240. See Aitor Hernandez‑Morales et al., Fears Over China’s Muslim Forced Labor Loom over EU Solar Power, Politico (Feb. 10, 2021), https://‌‌www.politico.eu‌‌/article‌‌/xinjiang-china-polysilicon-solar-energy-europe [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/HY3P-UCD5] (noting that a large percentage of the world’s polysilicon comes from the Xinjiang Autonomous Region). ↑
241. Id. (quoting Jenny Chase, BloombergNEF Head of Solar Analysis). ↑
242. See H.R. 1155, 117th Cong. (2021). ↑
243. Press Release, U.S. Customs & Border Prot., CBP Issues Region‑Wide Withhold Release Order on Products Made by Slave Labor in Xinjiang (Jan. 13, 2021), https://‌‌www.cbp.gov‌‌/newsroom‌‌/national-media-release‌‌/cbp-issues-region-wide-withhold-release-order-products-made-slave [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/T3SL-J5M7] (citing to Section 307 of the Tariff Act of 1930, which prohibits the import of any product that was “mined, produced, or manufactured wholly or in part” by forced labor and which delegates enforcement authority to United States Customs and Border Protection). 19 U.S.C. § 1307. ↑
244. See Alan Crawford et al., Over‑Exposed, Uyghur Region Exposure Assessment for Solar Industry Sourcing, Sheffield Hallam U. 1–5 (Nov. 2023), https://‌‌www.shu.ac.uk‌‌/helena-kennedy-centre-international-justice‌‌/research-and-projects‌‌/all-projects‌‌/over-exposed [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/38NL-YQYX] (noting that solar manufacturers have implemented “bifurcated” production to address U.S. regulations). ↑
245. Id. at 17–19. ↑
246. Id. ↑
247. See, e.g., William Laufer, Social Accountability and Corporate Greenwashing, 43 J. Bus. Ethics 253, 255–58 (2003); Beate Sjåfjell, Internalizing Externalities in E.U. Law: Why Neither Corporate Governance nor Corporate Social Responsibility Provides the Answers, 40 Geo. Wash. Int’l L. Rev. 977, 981–85 (2009). ↑
248. See David Vogel, Trading Up: Consumer and Environmental Regulation in a Global Economy 5–8 (1995) (explaining the “California effect” based on the United States automobile industry, which has gravitated towards the more stringent emission standards set by California); Anu Bradford, The Brussels Effect: How the European Union Rules the World 1–5 (2020) (extending this concept to the global economy, using case studies from the European Union). ↑
249. See supra notes 227–228 (noting the roles of standard settings and experts as private regulators in supply chains). ↑
250. See Li‑Wen Lin, Legal Transplants Through Private Contracting: Codes of Vendor Conduct in Global Supply Chains as an Example, 57 Am. J. Compar. L. 711, 714–18 (2009) (arguing that vendor codes of conduct represent a form of legal transplant). ↑
251. See About SAI, Soc. Accountability Int’l, https://‌‌sa-intl.org‌‌/about [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/JYN5-FGSC]. ↑
252. Soc. Accountability Int’l, Social Accountability 8000 International Standard 5 (2014), https://‌‌sa-intl.org‌‌/wp-content‌‌/uploads‌‌/2020‌‌/02‌‌/SA8000Standard2014.pdf [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/QQ6P-2D6F]; see also Lin, supra note 250, at 730. ↑
253. See Li‑Wen Lin, Corporate Social Accountability Standards in the Global Supply Chain: Resistance, Reconsideration and Resolution in China, 15 Cardozo J. Int’l & Compar. L. 321, 327–29 (2007) (describing the SA8000 certification process). ↑
254. Id. ↑
255. Id. at 335–36. For an account on how supplier contracts can perpetuate accountability problems in supply chains, see Kishanthi Parella, Contractual Stakeholderism, 102 B.U. L. Rev. 865 (2022). ↑
256. See Lin, supra note 250, at 731–34 (detailing the development of CSC9000T). ↑
257. Id. ↑
258. Id.; see also Tingting Chen, et al., Implementing a Collective Code of Conduct–CSC9000T in Chinese Textile Industry, 74 J. Cleaner Prod. 35, 35–37 (2014) (further expanding that CSC900T is not a standard but a collective code of conduct). ↑
259. See Lin, note 250, at 733. ↑
260. Id. ↑
261. Id. at 740 (“The construction of Chinese CSR standards can be a defense against the imposition of western norms.”); see also Natalie Langford et al., The Shaping of “Southern” Sustainability Standards in a Value Chain World: Comparative Evidence from China and India, 30 Rev. Int’l Pol. Econ. 1151, 1151−76 (2023). ↑
262. See Guidance for Chinese Textile and Apparel Industry on Responsible Overseas Investment, China Nat’l Textile & Apparel Council (2018), http://‌‌www.csc9000.org.cn‌‌/d‌‌/file‌‌/p‌‌/2023‌‌/04-03‌‌/ce3c233e78f8556b784fbe278cd6f011.pdf [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/R447-ZYEZ]. ↑
263. For an overview of the Belt and Road Initiative, see Min Ye, The Belt, Road, and Beyond: State‑Mobilized Globalization in China: 1998–2018 (2020), describing the Belt and Road Initiative as “state‑mobilized development.” See also Gregory Shaffer & Henry Gao, A New Chinese Economic Order?, 23 J. Int’l Econ. L. 607, 607–09 (2020) (arguing that China’s Belt and Road Initiative is part of a state‑led strategy to create a potentially distinct economic order with impacts well beyond China). ↑
264. China National Textile and Apparel Council, Social Responsibility Report of China’s Textile and Apparel Industry 2018−2019, at 21 (2019) http://‌‌www.csc9000.org.cn‌‌/Download‌‌/wj‌‌/2018-2019EN.pdf [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/FJ6P-TNXE] (noting that corporate social responsibility guidelines in the electronics and communications industries were promulgated based on the CSC9000T). ↑
265. See Matthew S. Erie, The New Legal Hubs: The Emergent Landscape of International Commercial Dispute Resolution, 60 Va. J. Int’l L. 225, 230–31 (2019) (describing the rise of “new legal hubs” in offshore jurisdictions). ↑
266. Other examples include India’s Trustea (tea), Indonesia’s Sustainable Palm Oil standard, and Brazil’s SojaPlus (soybean). See Tim Bartley, Rules Without Rights: Land, Labor, and Private Authority in the Global Economy 1–5 (2018) (providing an overview of these standards as a potential challenge to Western actors’ dominance in private governance). ↑
267. See U.S. White House, Building Resilient Supply Chains, Revitalizing American Manufacturing, and Fostering Broad‑Based Growth 8–9 (June 2021), https://‌‌www.whitehouse.gov‌‌/wp-content‌‌/uploads‌‌/2021‌‌/06‌‌/100-day-supply-chain-review-report.pdf [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/35ZV-NM2R] (noting the critical use of semiconductors in grid infrastructure, military equipment, and beyond). ↑
268. See id. at 8, 209, 243. ↑
269. See Creating Helpful Incentives to Produce Semiconductors and Science Act, Pub. L. No. 117‑167, 136 Stat. 1366 (2022); see also Press Release, U.S. White House, FACT SHEET: CHIPS and Science Act Will Lower Costs, Create Jobs, Strengthen Supply Chains, and Counter China (Aug. 9, 2022), https://‌‌www.whitehouse.gov‌‌/briefing-room‌‌/statements-releases‌‌/2022‌‌/08‌‌/09‌‌/fact-sheet-chips-and-science-act-will-lower-costs-create-jobs-strengthen-supply-chains-and-counter-china [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/LK4H-4URD]. ↑
270. See Martha Ross & Mark Muro, How federal, state, and local leaders can leverage the CHIPS and Science Act as a landmark workforce opportunity, Brookings Inst. (Jan. 4, 2024), https://‌‌www.brookings.edu‌‌/articles‌‌/how-federal-state-and-local-leaders-can-leverage-the-chips-and-science-act-as-a-landmark-workforce-opportunity [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/L489-FQ5N]. ↑
271. Eric McLellan, The European Chips Act: A Vital Step in the Right Direction, Wilson Ctr. (Aug. 4, 2023), https://‌‌www.wilsoncenter.org‌‌/article‌‌/european-chips-act-vital-step-right-direction [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/677D-X75W]. ↑
272. See Stephen Nellis, TSMC Says has Begun Construction at its Arizona Chip Factory Site, Reuters (June 1, 2021), https://‌‌www.reuters.com‌‌/technology‌‌/tsmc-says-construction-has-started-arizona-chip-factory-2021-06-01 [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/XH3Y-JTDQ]. ↑
273. Intel Announces Next US Site with Landmark Investment in Ohio, Intel (Jan. 21, 2022), https://‌‌www.intel.com‌‌/content‌‌/www‌‌/us‌‌/en‌‌/newsroom‌‌/news‌‌/intel-announces-next-us-site-landmark-investment-ohio.html [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/EPM6-EDDY]; Micron Announces Historic Investment of up to $100 Billion to Build Megafab in Central New York, Micron (Oct. 4, 2022), https://‌‌www.micron.com‌‌/manufacturing-expansion‌‌/ny [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/3A66-DZ4V]. ↑
274. Implementation of Additional Export Controls: Certain Advanced Computing and Semiconductor Manufacturing Items; Supercomputer and Semiconductor End Use; Entity List Modification, 87 Fed. Reg. 62186 (Oct. 13, 2022) (to be codified at 15 C.F.R. pts. 734, 736, 740, 742, 744, 762, 772, 774). ↑
275. For ongoing analysis on the details and impact of the Department of Commerce’s new export control rules, see, for example, Brian Egan, New US Semiconductor Export Controls Signify Dramatic Shift in Tech Relations With China, Just Sec. (Oct. 24, 2022), https://‌‌www.justsecurity.org‌‌/83744‌‌/new-us-semiconductor-export-controls-signify-dramatic-shift-in-tech-relations-with-china [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/RFZ2-WBW7]; BIS Imposes New Controls to Limit the Development and Production of Advanced Computing and Semiconductor Capabilities in China, Akin Gump (Oct. 27, 2022), https://‌‌www.akingump.com‌‌/en‌‌/news-insights‌‌/bis-imposes-new-controls-to-limit-the-development-and-production-of-advanced-computing-and-semiconductor-capabilities-in-china.html [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/BX2H-HP6V]. ↑
276. See Amy Lv & Brenda Goh, Beijing Jabs in US‑China Tech Fight with Chip Material Export Curbs, Reuters (July 4, 2023), https://‌‌www.reuters.com‌‌/technology‌‌/us-firm-axt-applying-permits-after-china-restricts-chipmaking-exports-2023-07-04 [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/CTC3-725D]. ↑
277. See Foxconn, Maker of Apple’s iPhones, Invests US$1.6 billion in India Expansion Plan amid Diversification from China, S. China Morning Post (Nov. 28, 2023), https://‌‌www.scmp.com‌‌/tech‌‌/big-tech‌‌/article‌‌/3243027‌‌/foxconn-maker-apples-iphones-invests-us16-billion-india-expansion-plan-amid-diversification-china [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/U36Q-5T66]; Chi Trung, Apple’s Deepening Roots and Flourishing Partnerships, Vietnam Inv. Rev. (May 9, 2024), https://‌‌vir.com.vn‌‌/apples-deepening-roots-and-flourishing-partnerships-110987.html [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/6Y2M-VCBM]; Supply Chain Exodus from China to India, Vietnam Far Faster Than Anticipated, Econ. Times (Mar. 8, 2023), https://‌‌telecom.economictimes.indiatimes.com‌‌/news‌‌/supply-chain-exodus-from-china-to-india-vietnam-far-faster-than-anticipated‌‌/98496252 [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/2G2N-SPQL]. ↑
278. Ji Siqi et. al, Beyond China: US’ Xinjiang Cotton Ban has Far‑reaching Implications, Even for Asian Alternatives, S. China Morning Post (July 27, 2022), https://‌‌www.scmp.com‌‌/economy‌‌/china-economy‌‌/article‌‌/3186664‌‌/beyond-china-us-xinjiang-cotton-ban-has-far-reaching [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/7CTZ-ERPG]. ↑
279. See Nguyen, supra note 107, at 39–40 (summarizing a range of national and international initiatives targeting supply chain issues). ↑
280. See generally Dara Chase, Models of Transnational Labor Organization 11−20 (May 13, 2024) (unpublished manuscript) (on file with author) (mapping different models of transnational advocacy). ↑
281. See Gerrit De Vynck, Tesla Strike in Sweden is Biggest Test Yet of Elon Musk’s Anti‑Union Stance, Wash. Post (Dec. 29, 2023), https://‌‌www.washingtonpost.com‌‌/world‌‌/2023‌‌/12‌‌/29‌‌/tesla-strike-sweden-elon-musk [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/7DH9-ARN6]. ↑
282. Id. ↑
283. Id. ↑
284. See Melissa Eddy, Tesla Strike s a Culture Clash: Swedish Labor vs. American Management, N.Y. Times (Dec. 28, 2023), https://‌‌www.nytimes.com‌‌/2023‌‌/12‌‌/27‌‌/business‌‌/tesla-sweden-strike-labor.html [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/NHX9-KVQY]. ↑
285. See id. Jeanne Whalen, UAW Announces Drive to Organize Against Toyota, Tesla and a Dozen Other Carmakers, Wash. Post (Nov. 29, 2023), https://‌‌www.washingtonpost.com‌‌/business‌‌/2023‌‌/11‌‌/29‌‌/uaw-toyota-tesla-organize [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/GC6C-6C32]. ↑
286. See Cynthia Estlund, A New Deal for China’s Workers? 10–15 (2017) (recounting the origin and legacy of the Yue Yuen strikes). ↑
287. Id. at 13. ↑
288. Id. For a first‑hand account by a Yue Yuen worker, translating from an interview transcript published in a Chinese blog Worker View Point (工评社), see Defeat will only make us stronger: Workers look back at the Yue Yuen shoe factory strike, China Lab. Bull. (May 22, 2014), https://‌‌clb.org.hk‌‌/en‌‌/content‌‌/defeat-will-only-make-us-stronger-workers-look-back-yue-yuen-shoe-factory-strike [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/QA6B-ARN6]. ↑
289. Id. See Estlund, supra note 286, at 13. ↑
290. See Estlund, supra note 286, at 14. ↑
291. Id. at 10–15 (analyzing the aftermath of the Yue Yuen strikes and the ambivalent roles of China’s labor unions). ↑
292. Id.; Cheng Ting‑Fang, Shoemaker Shifts Production to Vietnam Following TPP Deal, Nikkei Asia (Nov. 20, 2015), https://‌‌asia.nikkei.com‌‌/Business‌‌/Shoemaker-shifts-production-to-Vietnam-following-TPP-deal [https://‌‌perma.cc‌‌/WTQ3-UUJY]. ↑
293. See Do Quynh Chi, The Regional Coordination of Strikes and the Challenge for Union Reform in Vietnam, 48 Dev. & Change 1052, 1063–64 (2017). ↑
294. See id. ↑
295. See id. ↑