At the end of 2023, the Swedish startup H2 Green Steel was mid-way through construction on an integrated steel plant in Northern Sweden that would use abundant local hydro power to create Europe's first commercial-scale green steel. Their goal was to help European manufacturers to decarbonize their upstream (Scope 3) inputs, and they had successfully negotiated offtake contracts with the big European car companies. Their aspiration did not stop there, however. Maria Persson Gulda, chief technology officer at H2 Green Steel, was already thinking about how to take their green steel technology to other regions, and for use by other kinds of customers. They could play a critical role in addressing a core cause of climate change, but achieving this would require that they scale up their technology as rapidly as possible. How should that be done?

Over the course of the 20th century, most of the world's major multinational corporations framed their mission around Milton Friedman's famous mantra: that the sole purpose of the firm is to maximize its shareholders' profits. Recently, however, growing numbers of for-profit firms have embedded and embraced missions that go far beyond profit maximization or commercial gain; missions that include some of the world's greatest and most complex challenges: mitigating climate change, for example, advancing economic mobility, ameliorating racial or gender injustice, and attacking global health challenges such as the COVID-19 pandemic. Yet these are still for-profit firms, operating as commercial entities rather than government bureaucracies or non-profit organizations. So how, then, are they meant to operate? What can these firms measure and reward if profits are no longer their only goal? And what must these firms do differently if they truly seek to change the world? The principles described in The ICARUS Principles: What It Takes to Tackle the World attempt to answer these questions, and to sketch out the characteristics that distinguish more typical firms from those that are actively aiming to tackle massive societal challenges. Based on the first letters of these characteristics, we have assembled a list of six principles and refer to them as "the ICARUS Principles."

Since 1834, eight generations of the Ayala family have used their conglomerate to fund nation-building projects in the Philippines, including investments in tramcars, telecommunications, hospitals, and schools. In 1997, Ayala's subsidiary, Manila Water, took control of the failing water distribution system in Metro Manila's east zone, vowing to rebuild the infrastructure and bring cleaner, safer, and more widespread water to the area. Manila Water largely succeeded in this mission in its early years, but, as time went on and the climate grew more unpredictable, it became increasingly difficult to source water for the growing population. By 2019, Manila Water became unable to bring its customers a consistent supply of water, prompting both public and political outrage directed at the firm and the Ayala family. With their legacy at risk and the problem of water scarcity enduring, how should Manila Water and Ayala move forward?

Since 1834, eight generations of the Ayala family have used their conglomerate to fund nation-building projects in the Philippines, including investments in tramcars, telecommunications, hospitals, and schools. In 1997, Ayala's subsidiary, Manila Water, took control of the failing water distribution system in Metro Manila's east zone, vowing to rebuild the infrastructure and bring cleaner, safer, and more widespread water to the area. Manila Water largely succeeded in this mission in its early years, but, as time went on and the climate grew more unpredictable, it became increasingly difficult to source water for the growing population. By 2019, Manila Water became unable to bring its customers a consistent supply of water, prompting both public and political outrage directed at the firm and the Ayala family. With their legacy at risk and the problem of water scarcity enduring, how should Manila Water and Ayala move forward?

In the last 70 years, the small island of Taiwan has achieved what many believe to be a "miracle": its economy has grown at a record-setting pace, driven and guided by one of the world's most successful set of industrial policies, and it has become one of the richest and most open nations in the global trading system, with particular sway in the vital semiconductor sector. In more recent decades, however, the authoritarian government that originally led Taiwan's miracle has given way to a more open and pluralistic democracy and the growth of the island's semiconductor industry has slowed. Meanwhile, Taiwan finds itself in 2023 caught in the middle of a trade war between the United States and China, heightened by the threat of invasion from the PRC. Can Taiwan's newly pluralistic political system and plateauing technology sector maintain its miracle in such a vastly different environment?

Chile, often considered among Latin America´s greatest economic success stories, suffered a shocking wave of protests in October 2019, as its citizens demanded reforms across healthcare and education systems, and protested inequality and rising costs of living. As Chileans and outside observers reviewed the situation, many reflected on the country's long history of inequality as the underlying source for public frustration. Chile´s inequality had declined since the late 1990s, largely due to previous governments' commitment to free market policies and economic growth. The country benefitted from a robust business sector that was open to international trade, and from a large and thriving middle class. Yet, Chileans were clearly angry, and their outrage now threatened to ruin the country's robust economy and political stability. Meanwhile, a growing number of observers became concerned and inspected the role that Chile's business sector had played in the country's successes and failures. Although business drove growth, it was also the sector that had escaped the troubles that beset so many other parts of the country. Moreover, Chile´s economic performance in 2022 was lackluster. What had gone amiss with one of Latin America's most successful economies? And who had the power, and responsibility, to make changes?

The Social Purpose of the Firm (SPF) is a short module designed to explore how, and under what circumstances, business leaders can harness the power of capitalism and markets to "make a difference in the world" - that is, to address a significant societal problem as a commercial endeavor. This Module Note summarizes the cases and themes discussed in SPF. Together, the cases are designed to study entrepreneurs and business leaders who are tackling some of the world's most complex problems and understand 1) how to identify the problems or challenges that have both commercial potential and a positive impact on society; 2) the opportunities and limitations of the private sector's role in systems change; and 3) how to collaborate with other societal entities to operate most successfully in a cross-sectoral fashion.

In 2016, Swedish entrepreneurs Carl-Erik Lagercrantz and Peter Carlsson founded an electric battery company called Northvolt with the dual goals of creating a company to address climate change and bringing battery manufacture to Europe. Northvolt, which succeeded in building a "gigafactory" near the arctic circle in Sweden, was soon on track to become one of the largest and most sustainable battery manufacturers in the world. But, building "the world's greenest battery" to fight climate change was a difficult-and perhaps unrealistic-goal. How much could Northvolt really contribute to the European effort against society's greatest challenge?

In 1990, satellite expert and Sirius XM founder Martine Rothblatt was determined to save the life of her seven-year-old daughter, Jenesis, who was diagnosed with a terminal illness called Pulmonary Arterial Hypertension (PAH). At the time, there was little medication available for the rare condition, so Rothblatt decided make a drug herself and formed United Therapeutics in 1996. When that company proved successful, both financially and scientifically, Rothblatt decided to take what she saw as the logical next step: manufacturing organs for transplantation.

The majority of vaccines used on the continent of Africa (99%) are produced offshore. This makes African nations reliant on the West for major health care needs, a problem which was exacerbated by the COVID-19 pandemic. Afrigen Biologics (in partnership with the WHO) is seeking to lessen this disparity by putting vaccine production in the hands of South Africans and other low- and middle-income countries. Afrigen Biologics is the first in a planned hub-and-spoke model which will extend throughout Africa and South America, allowing local labs to use shared knowledge to produce their own vaccines, particularly the COVID-19 vaccine. However, Afrigen and the WHO face a number of challenges to their proposed model. First, though Afrigen reports it has produced an original vaccine, the company did use publicly-available information about the Moderna vaccine as a starting point for their production. Long-term use of Moderna's "recipe" is not guaranteed, as it is unclear whether the company will enforce its intellectual property rights to prevent others from producing a similar vaccine. Second, Afrigen could begin facing local competition from Moderna and other large vaccine producers such as Pfizer and BioNTech. Pfizer and BioNTech have already begun sending modular lab "pods" to Africa to be able to produce its vaccine on the continent. Moderna also has proposed setting up vaccine centers in Africa. The presence of these larger companies within LMICs could threaten the development of the proposed hub-and-spoke model, thus continuing to limit the power of local labs to produce vaccines for their communities. Not to mention that demand for vaccines has recently been low in Africa, making it difficult for any new players to enter the market.

Jeff Harmening, CEO of General Mills, one of the world's largest manufacturers of breakfast cereals and packaged foods, was deeply disturbed and instantly aware that he and General Mills would need to respond. George Floyd, an African-American man who had been accused by a sales clerk of using a counterfeit $20 bill to buy cigarettes, had been arrested and then killed by Minneapolis police. The video of his heart-wrenching death had gone viral worldwide. In the past, the company had not typically commented on racial incidents. But this time felt different. As the leader of one of Minneapolis' largest companies, and one profoundly committed to its community, Harmening needed to determine how and to whom to respond.

Jeff Harmening, CEO of General Mills, one of the world's largest manufacturers of breakfast cereals and packaged foods, was deeply disturbed and instantly aware that he and General Mills would need to respond. George Floyd, an African-American man who had been accused by a sales clerk of using a counterfeit $20 bill to buy cigarettes, had been arrested and then killed by Minneapolis police. The video of his heart-wrenching death had gone viral worldwide. In the past, the company had not typically commented on racial incidents. But this time felt different. As the leader of one of Minneapolis' largest companies, and one profoundly committed to its community, Harmening needed to determine how and to whom to respond.

Sweden's model of capitalism rests on a unique social contract, in which social welfare priorities can co-exist within a vibrant capitalist system. In 2022, however, contemporary pressures were growing on the traditional Swedish model, including mounting calls for privatization of the welfare system and political backlash surrounding the country's immigration policy. This case examines the long-term sustainability of the Swedish model, and the extent to which it is (or is not) transferrable to other political contexts and nation states.

In 2020, Amazon, the $386 billion online retail behemoth, built an eight-story shelter for women and families experiencing homelessness on its expanding headquarters in Seattle, Washington. The shelter, operated in partnership with a non-profit organization known as Mary's Place, was designed to address what had become a searing problem for Seattle and many other wealthy American cities: although urban areas like New York, Los Angeles and San Francisco were thriving economically from a recent influx of major tech companies and their well-heeled, well-educated work forces, poorer populations in these cities were being simultaneously hit by the declining availability and surging cost of what was once affordable housing. Amazon's partnership with Mary's Place was a novel experiment in addressing this problem at its core, using some of the firm's own resources to fund and create attractive living space for families struggling with homelessness. Yet, critics of the firm argued that its apparent charity was misplaced. Rather than trying to fix homelessness, many held, Amazon and other tech giants should stop acting in ways that were only making the problem worse. Hitting Home: Amazon and Mary's Place is an opportunity for students to understand the problem of homelessness in American cities and to investigate business's role in both causing and addressing it.

The case follows President Linda Oubré (HBS MBA Class of 1984) as she seeks to move Whittier College towards a more diverse, equitable, and inclusive campus. In 2020, the student body of Whittier, a private liberal arts college in Los Angeles County, California, is slowly evolving to represent the growing diversity of the surrounding area. Roughly 70 percent of Whittier students are non-white, and 59 percent are female. The college's leadership, however, remains largely white and male. Oubré, who had spent most of her previous career in business, was selected as the college's president in 2018-the first black woman to serve in that role. Almost immediately upon stepping into the role, Oubré set her sights on diversifying the college's staff, administration, and board of trustees; in 2020, the racial reckoning that swept across the United States only heightened the urgency of her task. Oubré knows that sweeping change is needed at Whittier. But change, of course, is hard. How can she continue to push for diversity among faculty, staff, board members, and students? And how can she galvanize support among all of the college's many constituents?

The case follows President Linda Oubré (HBS MBA Class of 1984) as she seeks to move Whittier College towards a more diverse, equitable, and inclusive campus. In 2020, the student body of Whittier, a private liberal arts college in Los Angeles County, California, is slowly evolving to represent the growing diversity of the surrounding area. Roughly 70 percent of Whittier students are non-white, and 59 percent are female. The college's leadership, however, remains largely white and male. Oubré, who had spent most of previous career in business, was selected as the college's president in 2018 - the first black woman to serve in that role. Almost immediately upon stepping into the role, Oubre set her sights on diversifying the college's staff, administration, and board of trustees; in 2020, the racial reckoning that swept across the United States only heightened the urgency of her task. Oubré knows that sweeping change is needed at Whittier. But change, of course, is hard. How can she continue to push for diversity among faculty, staff, board members, and students? And how can she galvanize support among all of the college's many constituents?

The case follows President Linda Oubré (HBS MBA Class of 1984) as she seeks to move Whittier College towards a more diverse, equitable, and inclusive campus. In 2020, the student body of Whittier, a private liberal arts college in Los Angeles County, California, is slowly evolving to represent the growing diversity of the surrounding area. Roughly 70 percent of Whittier students are non-white, and 59 percent are female. The college's leadership, however, remains largely white and male. Oubré, who had spent most of previous career in business, was selected as the college's president in 2018 - the first black woman to serve in that role. Almost immediately upon stepping into the role, Oubre set her sights on diversifying the college's staff, administration, and board of trustees; in 2020, the racial reckoning that swept across the United States only heightened the urgency of her task. Oubré knows that sweeping change is needed at Whittier. But change, of course, is hard. How can she continue to push for diversity among faculty, staff, board members, and students? And how can she galvanize support among all of the college's many constituents?

In 2020, Ndidi Nwuneli, founder and CEO of Sahel Consulting in Nigeria, faced a thorny set of problems. Her firm partnered with the Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation in a large project to develop the local dairy industry as a way to facilitate equitable growth and conserve foreign exchange. The Nigerian dairy market was dominated by imported, powdered milk, but the country had a large population of cows owned by pastoralists. Nwuneli had to devise a plan to get local dairy processors, multinational firms, local pastoralists, and the Nigerian government to work together to make local cows more efficient, connect smallholder farmers with processors, and compete with imported milk powder. The stakes were high: the project, if successful, could play a large part in reducing Nigeria's deadly farmer-herder conflict and reducing the country's macroeconomic imbalances. The case explores the variety of interests involved and asks students to debate whether Nwuneli and others should push for protectionist policies as a way to catalyze local production.

The case follows President Rob Huntington as he seeks to find a viable way forward for Heidelberg University. Located in Tiffin, Ohio, Heidelberg is a small, private, four-year university. As with many similar institutions of higher education, it currently faces a daunting and mounting set of challenges, most of which stem from financial and demographic changes that are far beyond its control. During Huntington's eleven-year tenure, the university has experimented with a number of efforts aimed at attracting and retaining students. But in 2019, with enrollment, retention, and graduation rates stagnating and the university once again running a deficit, Huntington must consider more drastic measures. What can he do to underscore the "Heidelberg difference" and ensure that the university survives?