Hesiod had four of them, Ovid five, Shakespeare seven. ‘All the world’s a stage, | And all the men and women merely players; | They have their exits and entrances, | And one man in his time plays many parts, | His acts being seven ages.’ The seven ages of man: ‘At first, the infant, | Mewling and puking in the nurse’s arms; | Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel | And shining morning face, creeping like snail | Unwillingly to school.’1 This is all very politically incorrect; it is much safer to stick to the corporation.
There we find six ages. At first the merchant trading company established by royal charter to undertake voyages of discovery and promote commerce around the world. Then the public corporation created by Acts of Parliament to engage in major public works and the building of canals and railways. Then with freedom of incorporation in the nineteenth century came the private corporation—the seedbed of the industrial revolution and the manufacturing corporation. Next were the service firms and the rise of financial institutions. The fifth age is the transnational corporation putting a girdle around the earth and running rings around national governments. The last scene of all that ends this strange eventful history is the mindful corporation—sans machines, sans man, sans money, sans everything—but with principles and purposes that determine our destiny.