3,015 works, 150 years of economic thought. Each one summarized and searchable, with cited passages inside.
The Far East, and Japan above all, appears here as the site where a world-historical rupture becomes visible: the collision of a closed, tradition-saturated civilization with the expansive forces of European industrial capitalism. Refusing both romantic Asia-enthusiasm and European condescension, Lederer and his co-author Emy Lederer-Seidler reconstruct Japanese life from within, from Shinto and ancestor cult to Tokugawa aesthetics, the forty thousand characters that discipline a childhood, and samurai loyalty transferred to the emperor at Meiji. Modern imported capitalism, they contend, corrodes precisely these bonds, detaching a new industrial proletariat from family, myth, and national-religious community. The later chapters turn economic: cultivable land scarcity, tenant rents of half the harvest, feudal capitalism concentrated in Mitsui and Mitsubishi, and armament spending hidden in opaque budgets. The crisis they diagnose is not mere Europeanization but the emergence of an Asian capitalism.
Niemand existiert außerhalb der Gruppe.
English translation: “No one exists outside the group.”
More intensive cultivation need not make a farm more viable. In this report of a 1929 Heidelberg institute excursion to Pomerania, Emil Lederer, Käthe Bauer-Mengelberg, and Svend Riemer examine estates whose technical efforts collide with poor soils, costly transport, depressed prices, and debt. Estate visits and accounts—given particular prominence by the Pommerscher Landbund’s invitation—support a crucial distinction: preserving existing owners is not the same as securing agricultural production. The authors also test proposed remedies against their human costs. Smallholdings may survive through unpaid family labor; estate economies may depend on low wages and restrictive employment arrangements. Readers encounter agricultural rescue as a conflict among profitability, property, and livelihoods, rather than a simple choice between efficient large estates and independent peasant farms.
The forty-hour week, this 1931 lecture to the German trade-union congress in Frankfurt insists, is no narrow bargaining demand but a response to a capitalism transformed by crisis. Depression at twenty-five percent unemployment differs in kind, not merely degree, from earlier downturns: postwar technical change swept through raw materials, agriculture, transport, and mining at once, cartels and tariff walls held organized prices high while starving smaller export firms of credit, and no automatic compensation reabsorbs the workers machinery displaces. Lederer rejects both autarky, which for a modern nation means poverty and dependence, and isolated currency manipulation in an interdependent world. If technical progress permanently shrinks the necessary volume of labor, work must be shared more evenly — and leisure, rather than mere rest, becomes a terrain of education, solidarity, and emancipation for the working class.
Es ist etwas anderes, ob eine Krise mit 7, 8, 10 Prozent Arbeitslosigkeit oder mit 25 Prozent Arbeitslosigkeit zu kämpfen hat.
English translation: “It is one thing whether a crisis has to contend with 7, 8, or 10 percent unemployment, and quite another with 25 percent unemployment.”
Weimar's debate over Rationalisierung becomes, in this 1931 study, a theory of capitalist dynamics. Against the compensation doctrine that markets quietly reabsorb workers displaced by machinery, Lederer argues that labor-saving innovation can leave durable structural unemployment whenever its tempo outruns capital formation and the growth of jobs. His engine is the organic composition of production: modern progress means more capital and fewer workers per unit of output. A model of dynamic equilibrium disturbed by innovation in coal mining shows the mechanism — the rationalized mines draw capital from static sectors, produce the same coal with roughly half the labor, and shrink the economy's capacity to place workers, so the wage bill falls further than the social product. Neither anti-machine reaction nor laissez-faire optimism will do; what he urges is social control over the pace and direction of technical change.
Bei einem sehr schnellen Tempo des technischen Fortschritts können dann die Freisetzungswirkungen zu einer strukturellen, d. h. die Depressionsperiode überdauernden Arbeitslosigkeit führen.
English translation: “At a very rapid pace of technical progress, the effects of labor displacement can then lead to structural unemployment—that is, unemployment that outlasts the depression period.”
Full shop-windows and idle furnaces at the same moment: the Depression, this 1931 lecture argues, is a crisis of abundance without purchasing power, not a shortage of goods, gold, or effort. Lederer catalogues its causes — cyclical overinvestment financed by credit outrunning real saving, world markets glutted by mechanized grain, rubber, coal, and copper, a swollen German labor supply after conscription's end, and labor-saving rationalization that no longer absorbs workers as the railways once did — then diagnoses why the usual liquidation fails. Cartels and trusts fix prices and quantities, dump losses onto competitive sectors, and block the price falls that would reallocate capital; wage-cutting proves largely a dead end. His verdict is that capitalist automatism has failed, leaving a fixed economy without a plan that only conscious social direction and economic self-government can set right.
Die kapitalistische Wirtschaft ist reich an kostspieligen Paradoxien.
English translation: “The capitalist economy is rich in costly paradoxes.”
That mass unemployment is proof of excessive wages, and that cutting wages will clear the labor market, was the reigning Depression orthodoxy Lederer set out to demolish in this 1931 lecture. He grants that a ruthless wage fall might absorb idle workers for a moment, then shows why the concession dissolves: shrinking consumption, technical unemployment that no compensation doctrine repairs, the combine harvester displacing labor faster than cheaper grain can reabsorb it. Against Cassel and Clark he insists the labor market cannot be read in isolation. In the German winter of 1930/31, with cartels holding prices rigid and plants idled by quota, wage cuts could only deepen deflation while strengthening the National Socialists whose rise frightened capital abroad. Unemployment, he concludes, is structural and institutional, not a mere error in the price of labor.
Eine Lohnsenkung vermehrt aber noch nicht den Absatz, sondern verschiebt nur die Kaufkraft vom Arbeiter auf den Unternehmer.
English translation: “A wage reduction, however, does not yet increase sales; it merely shifts purchasing power from the worker to the entrepreneur.”
By 1932 capitalism had, on Lederer's reading, long ceased to be a purely free economy: tariffs, cartels, subsidies, emergency decrees, and bank rescues had already rewritten circulation and investment. The real question was not whether planning should enter an untouched market, but whether the planning everywhere present would stay defensive and irrational or become conscious coordination. Free economy and planned economy, he argues, are opposites only in principle; in practice they interpenetrate. He proposes a planned emergency sector, idle factories and unemployed hands producing necessities distributed outside ordinary sale, and locates the true lever in credit, whose control becomes control over production itself. Planning, he insists, is not nationalization; a socialized firm still bound to the market must obey it. Against Mises he holds that prices, money, and consumer choice survive the plan, leaving economic calculation intact.
Das Problem der „Wirtschaftsrechnung“ in der Planwirtschaft ist also ein Scheinproblem.
English translation: “The problem of "economic calculation" in the planned economy is thus a pseudo-problem.”
Can workers displaced by machinery count on new investment and cheaper goods to restore their employment? In this 1933 journal reply to Mentor Bouniatian, presented in French, Emil Lederer challenges the assumption that technical progress supplies its own remedy for unemployment. His distinctive concern is timing: even if each innovation eventually generates compensating employment, successive waves of displacement may leave unemployment continuous. He distinguishes labour-saving improvements from inventions that open new fields of production, and argues that credit expansion can conceal displacement during a boom only for depression to expose it. The article offers a precise way to question promises of automatic adjustment: which jobs are created, whose spending sustains them, and how long must displaced workers wait?
Organizing an industry is not the same as organizing production for society’s needs. This distinction drives Emil Lederer’s encyclopedia article, which asks why monopoly and piecemeal regulation can leave workers and machinery idle even as economic coordination increases. Lederer defends the possibility of socialist calculation without reducing production to an engineering problem: prices, consumer choice, and comparisons of efficiency still matter. His concrete proposals for credit allocation and control of basic industries expose a further tension—planning within capitalism may stabilize investment while continuing to serve existing purchasing power rather than unmet needs. Readers can discover here an argument for planning that refuses to equate administrative coordination with social benefit: its purposes and possibilities depend on who holds economic and political power.
Modern dictatorship is not rule by a clique, a bureaucracy, or a defensive capitalist class; it arises, Lederer argues, when a society loses the classes, parties, associations, and publics through which individuals become politically articulate. What remains is an amorphous mass, available for emotional mobilization, crystallized around a leader and held together by propaganda that mimics argument while severing it from truth. Tracing d'Annunzio at Fiume, Italian Fascism, and the SA's conquest of the German street, he presents fascism as the destruction of society itself rather than its capture. His warning against the classless society defends not hierarchy but stratification, the plural conflict on which freedom depends. Written in American exile and read here in Angela Kornberger's German rendering of the 1940 English original, State of the Masses, it stands among the first emigre theories of totalitarianism.
Der totalitäre Staat ist der Staat der Massen.
English translation: “The totalitarian state is the state of the masses.”
Rising real wages do not by themselves establish that poverty has receded. In this review, published in English translation in 1931, Emil Lederer examines the first volume of The New Survey of London Life and Labour through that distinction. He values Charles Booth’s combination of statistical classification and intimate household observation, but asks what happens when its measures are carried across forty years of changing expectations. Deteriorating housing, commuting costs and lost leisure complicate the apparent gains in purchasing power; London’s locally rooted poor also challenge explanations centred on migration. Lederer’s favourable but questioning assessment shows what historical comparison demands of a social survey: evidence not merely of higher incomes, but of how economic change alters the conditions and possibilities of working-class life.
Salaried employees could strike, bargain collectively, and acknowledge a conflict with employers without abandoning their claims to middle-class distinction. This tension anchors Emil Lederer’s study of German private-sector employees after November 1918. Drawing on technical and commercial associations, salary agreements, and disputes over workplace representation, he distinguishes the adoption of union methods from conversion to socialism. Inflation eroded welfare funds, while comparisons with skilled workers’ earnings challenged assumptions of salaried superiority; yet occupational pride and nationalist allegiances persisted. Lederer treats revolution as an opening for collective action, not merely a consequence of economic decline. His account shows why increasingly similar employment interests could sustain sharply different political loyalties—and why organizational change cannot be read directly as a change in social identity.