Chapter 3 describes the emergence of merit as a store of value. For professionals, merit was first earned and demonstrated in educational contexts, then ‘cashed in’ for access to professional pathways. There, further merit was accumulated doing virtuous work, and rapidly reinvested in advancement upwards. Each step on the career ladder was ‘earned’ by demonstrating one’s increasing merit, and directly translated into material and social benefits. Merit was built from conceptions of virtue that were already deeply gendered and which were becoming entangled with emerging ideas about race. As merit became the currency with which the professional class purchased and managed their influence, this systematized multiple, intersecting forms of inequality. As they structured career ladders, the professional class also built a ladder through society, so that each person’s class and financial status, from the rich and powerful to the poorest and most marginalized, seemed to be earned. This opened the opportunity for the professional class to extract moral and financial value from women, people of colour, and the working class, bolstering their own status and class identity.

From the 1980s, globalization produced conditions that demanded tough decisions in a complex set of fluctuating economic circumstances. This required more decision-makers, who discarded almost all virtue but success. Chapter 8 shows that to this new managerial elite, the moral character of the professionals was at best an old-fashioned affectation, at worst the sanctimonious preaching of the old establishment, bleating over their loss of prestige. Managers began to treat those merely applying their expertise as plug-and-play professionals, able to be manoeuvred in and out of place according to flexible strategies. These were applied under a new cliché: ‘work smarter, not harder’, where the ‘smarter’ referred mainly to managerial innovation. Under this managerial regime, success was the only virtue that mattered, while traditional aspects of professional virtue, still needed for professional work to succeed, were embedded into systems for quality and risk management, launching a process of moral deskilling. In this context, professionals turned to a more generic ‘effectiveness’ into which they could pour their personal professional values. This kept them investing relentlessly in their own human capital, reducing the kind of virtue that sought a better world into a category of virtuous consumption.

Labour movements deployed well-known strategies for collective action, but how did the professional class collectivise their interests? The mechanisms by which the professionals achieved and maintained their status in the mid-twentieth century are laid bare by records of an institution unique to Australasia: formal conciliation and arbitration courts. This chapter focuses on a particular event, the Professional Engineers Case, which was brought before the Australian Conciliation and Arbitration Commission between 1957 and 1961. This case shows professionals articulating their class status to argue, in arbitration, for the value of their work to the nation’s collective economic and moral good. This good was linked, for the judges who elevated their salaries, to the individual professional’s investment in education but also to the prospective worth of their virtuous work to the nation. The risk to the nation if unvirtuous people performed professional work was too high to let them fall behind in material terms. To belong to the professional class, it was not enough to be qualified – they also had to perform class in their standard of living. Assuring consumption standards, then, was also a way to assure quality work – and the rationale that enabled the professional class to monetize their virtue.

By the end of the Second World War, the professional class presided over a massive alignment of national and global institutions with virtue capitalism. This global ‘welfare state’ moment makes it seem that virtue capitalism went hand in hand with state control. However, professionals were often ambivalent about their connection to the state. When Canada first ventured into nationalised healthcare, for example, doctors in Saskatchewan went on strike to avoid it. Despite often rejecting state interference, which many professionals feared might impede the integrity of their work, professionals held a moral relationship between knowing and doing, where they sought to use expertise to effect material change in the world and in individual lives. Such technocratic planning was fundamentally moral, embedding into mid-twentieth century capitalism the internalized, disciplining practices known as governmentality. Professionals were, to use Giorgio Agamben’s framing of the governmental economy, angels of the state. Human capital investment entangled industry, military, and education but, perhaps most importantly, led to an internalized, universal industriousness. The material effects of this ‘angelic’ work were sometimes deeply damaging, building social and economic ‘dependencies’ through the economy that mirrored, in individual lives, the hierarchies constructed by the colonial world.

In the Epilogue, I consider the ways that the rise and fall of the professional class has left the world in thrall to a conflict between managerial capitalism and professional technocracy. Unlike labour versus capital, this intra-bourgeois conflict is not productive of change. Rather, self-perpetuating cycles seeking material and moral authority have infected workplaces and global politics, impeding reform. Much is at stake, including climate change. Professionals, whose work remains necessary to a good society, need to separate virtue from capitalism, disaggregating their moral goals from their own class interests – even to the point of turning the hierarchy that they made on its head. The Epilogue draws inspiration from the reversals of hierarchies made possible by acts of decolonization.

Scholars have often considered salary-earning professionals as workers, since they did not own the means of production and, from the 1920s onwards, were subject to increasingly ‘scientific’ management. Professionals were not always salary earners, however. In the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, professionals tended to own small businesses. Over the twentieth century, professionals moved into ever-larger enterprises, typically becoming salaried employees. Early professional businesses included individual medical and accountancy practices, small legal partnerships, independent local newspapers, and engineering consultancies. Women, too, owned small schools and nursing homes or home-based private hospitals where they cared for the sick, or they worked on their own account. The transformation of the professional class from small, bourgeois business owners to a large salaried workforce has been poorly documented and theorized. This chapter shows the trajectory of professional work towards ever-larger, even industrializing, institutions. I argue that, even when salaried, the professional class retained the model of moral capitalization they had built into their original bourgeois businesses. They supported the expansion of the enterprises in which they worked, even their industrialization, because it expanded their influence, extending virtue across the Anglo world.

Chapter 7 focuses on the 1970s, when anti-colonial movements sought to turn global hierarchies upside down. Their efforts moved from the US civil rights movement to expose the racism and sexism embedded in professional work, as in education, social work, and medicine. Teachers observed their ‘hidden curriculum’, which excluded those they long claimed to help. Lawyers noted their close alliance to capital and sought, for the less-powerful, alternative routes to legal service. Engineers, who up to this point claimed that they had literally built civilization, began to ask whether they had in fact condemned society to live in concrete boxes and breathe polluted air. Even accountants were not immune. The high and fluctuating inflation that characterized the end of the moral-economic order established after the Second World War produced a legitimation crisis that required, in Britain, a Royal Commission on something as fundamental to capitalism as the calculation of profit.

Chapter 2 explores the patterns of late nineteenth-century global capitalism through which a progressive, moral middle class built a system of professions. It uses the 1880s Melbourne land boom to show the sustained effect of the ‘great heaves’ of investment from the City of London into Australia, Canada, and the United States. This financializing economy – unlike earlier, short-term bubbles like Chicago’s in the 1830s – stimulated the global expansion of professional occupations. Older moral values infused the professions across the Anglo world as they grew and institutionalised. Retaining capitalism’s model of return on investment, the professional class made investment in humans the central professional ideal. Their class status was often concealed beneath layers of rationality and claims to expertise, but in the settler colonies they transformed capitalism into a form of moral investment for social return in ways that served their own interests first. As part of a global bourgeoisie, these transformations at the periphery of the Anglo world were soon also felt in the British metropole.

In the last quarter of the nineteenth century, members of an established, English-speaking middle class built a new category of work for themselves. This book uses US, British, Canadian, Australian, and New Zealand occupation statistics, archives, professional journals, and newspapers to understand what the history of nursing, accountancy, teaching, medicine, law, engineering, journalism, and social work can tell us about class in the ‘long twentieth century’. This chapter gives a historical and theoretical introduction to the rise of the professional class as a distinctly transnational event. The Anglo world is not a matter of comparative ‘case studies’, but a network of English-speaking communities that were regionally distinctive but operated as part of a shared cultural and economic world. It was a world built on Indigenous dispossession. Settlers brought their moral frameworks to bear on the ‘civilizing’ that they believed they needed. The virtues that they built into each profession, such as duty, probity, and charity, were performed as real, embodied work in every settlement. Their morality was made material and invested for social and economic profit. They became virtue capitalists.