The archive.

What makes a statement representative of business opinion rather than merely a statement by businessmen? In this brief, sharply critical review of Alfred L. Thimm’s book, Murray N. Rothbard questions both the evidence for ideological influence and the economic interests concealed by a favorable account of Morgan-group corporatism. He faults Thimm for neglecting cartelization and for treating concentrated financial ownership as a precursor to control by non-owning managers without explaining the contradiction. The review offers a compact encounter with Rothbard’s standards for business history: scholars need not accept revisionist conclusions, but they must engage the research and distinguish professed ideas from institutional influence.

Can a protection agency acquire the authority to suppress its competitors without violating the rights it exists to defend? In this 1977 article, Murray N. Rothbard challenges Robert Nozick’s derivation of the minimal state from voluntary exchanges. His anarcho-capitalist perspective makes the decisive issue not an agency’s size or success, but its claimed right to prohibit independent enforcement. Combining rights theory with subjective-value economics, Rothbard argues that fear of unreliable procedures cannot justify coercive monopoly, and that compulsory protection cannot simply be counted as compensation for lost freedom. The dispute sharpens a distinction easily blurred in debates over government: agreement on legal standards need not imply a single institution entitled to enforce them. Readers encounter a libertarian challenge to state authority conducted on the terrain of individual rights that Nozick himself defends.

What exactly counts as money? Rothbard's answer refuses the Chicago school's habit of choosing a monetary aggregate because it correlates with national income—statistical fit, he argues, evades the prior question of what money is. Returning to Mises's definition of money as the generally accepted medium of exchange, he counts demand deposits and other claims the public treats as redeemable at par in standard money, while excluding stocks, bonds, and real estate that are merely liquid and must first be sold. The functional test yields his aggregate Ma: cash plus fixed-rate redeemable claims. A second measure, Mb, isolates newly created bank money entering business credit—the channel that, in Austrian cycle theory, distorts the structure of production toward higher-order capital goods, distinct from deficit finance or consumer lending.

Furthermore, the approach overlooks the fact that statistical correlation cannot establish causal connections; this can only be done by a genuine theory that works with definable and defined concepts.

How did opposition to war cease to be a defining commitment of the American Right? In this historical essay, Murray N. Rothbard sympathetically reconstructs a coalition whose resistance to overseas intervention grew from its hostility to government expansion at home. Figures such as John T. Flynn and Howard Buffett linked military commitments to conscription, debt, economic regimentation, and executive power—not simply to the costs of fighting abroad. Rothbard follows their displacement by Cold War conservatism while showing how former left-wing critics of imperialism came to be classified as reactionaries. His account challenges the equation of conservatism with military activism and offers a concrete history of the tension between defending liberty and maintaining a permanent global security role.

Efficiency, the supposedly neutral yardstick of law and public policy, is a chimera—so runs Rothbard's radicalization of Mario Rizzo's critique. Ends are plural, shifting, and conflicting, he argues, and under genuine uncertainty even an individual cannot be said to choose the 'best' means, since action is itself a process of discovery. Social efficiency fares worse: it presumes ends that can be added and compared across persons, when the real question is whose ends shall rule. On the Austrian theory of cost—subjective, ex ante, vanishing the moment a choice is made—'social cost,' transaction cost, and externality become incoherent, and cost-benefit analysis collapses as an objective guide. The essay carries the point into tort law, defending the misfeasance-nonfeasance line and insisting that justice govern.

Efficiency can never serve as the basis for ethics; on the contrary, ethics must be the guide and touchstone for any consideration of efficiency. Ethics is the primary.

Falling prices need not mean a failing economy, and lower farm returns need not prove irrational investment. These distinctions drive Murray N. Rothbard’s 1980 review of Paul Uselding’s edited Research in Economic History, Volume 4. Challenging studies of Kondratieff long waves, Rothbard asks whether their cycles have been established at all—and whether agricultural prices have become a circular substitute for evidence of economic decline. His emphasis on money, bank credit, and entrepreneurs’ capacity to adjust also shapes his assessment of antebellum agriculture. He contrasts conclusions drawn from a single year with Clarence Danhof’s more cautious, four-decade study of northern farms. The review offers a concrete encounter with Rothbard’s standards of economic explanation: representative evidence, institutional context, and a clear distinction between the pattern being explained and its proposed cause.

Why should sound economic arguments prevail when political privileges reward those best organized to defend them? In this review of Ludwig von Mises’ Economic Policy, Murray N. Rothbard praises his teacher’s accessible defense of capitalism but challenges the adequacy of his political analysis. Rothbard endorses Mises’ account of markets as systems of mass provision rather than fixed privilege, then asks why politicians should be expected to rise above ordinary self-interest. Sugar protection supplies the concrete test: producers have a concentrated stake in lobbying, while consumers bear costs too dispersed to command sustained attention. The review’s interest lies in this turn from intellectual allegiance to criticism. For Rothbard, economic education needs both an account of institutions that favor intervention and a moral argument against special privilege.

Fusionism, the conservative synthesis that promised to reconcile traditionalist moral order with libertarian freedom, is dismantled here as a myth that cannot stand as a philosophy in its own right. Reading Frank S. Meyer's arguments closely, Rothbard finds that on every decisive issue the mediation dissolves into libertarianism. Virtue cannot be coerced, since a compelled act is mere motion, not moral choice; community holds no rights above the persons who compose it; order arises from voluntary interaction, not state command. Meyer's real quarrel, Rothbard argues, is with utilitarian liberalism and the Chicago law-and-economics that swaps justice for efficiency — not with a rights-based libertarianism grounded in natural law. Only his appeal to tradition, which cannot judge itself without some standard beyond it, marks a true inconsistency. Fusionism emerges as a Sorelian coalition myth, not a coherent third way.

Unless he can choose his worst, he cannot choose his best.

Not administrative regulation, not Coasean bargaining, not judicial balancing of 'social' costs—only a strict law of property, Rothbard argues, should govern air pollution. Reconstructing environmental tort law from libertarian first principles, he holds that coercion is justified solely against an overt physical invasion of another's person or justly held property: smoke, odor, dust, or excessive noise crossing a boundary, proven by strict causation beyond a reasonable doubt. His most distinctive move ties pollution to homesteading—a factory or airport that first emitted over unused land may acquire a prescriptive easement, leaving later arrivals to 'come to the nuisance.' From this follow his rejections of a general right to clean air, the ad coelum doctrine, statutory clean-air rules, vicarious 'deep pocket' liability, and binding class actions, and his proposal to collapse criminal law into a tort law prosecuted only by victims, heirs, or assigns.

In sum, no one has a right to clean air, but one does have a right to not have his air invaded by pollutants generated by an aggressor.

Beginning from the premise that money emerged from barter rather than state decree, this treatise builds a full Austrian theory of money and then turns it against the banks. Rothbard separates honest loan banking, which lends real savings, from deposit banking that issues more warehouse receipts than it holds gold, fractional reserves he treats as inherently fraudulent, inflationary, and structurally bankrupt. Free banking, he argues, restrains such expansion through redemption by rival banks; central banking exists precisely to remove that limit, monopolizing note issue and pyramiding credit through open-market operations. Tracing the story from the 1694 Bank of England to the Federal Reserve, and debating Lawrence White over Scottish free banking, he closes with a demand for 100 percent gold reserves.

Inflation is a process of subtle expropriation, where the victims understand that prices have gone up but not why this has happened.

Every generation of economists, Rothbard notes, hunts for the next culminating doctrine after Keynes, and in the late 1970s supply-side economics seemed to furnish it, though without a systematic treatise, a single major theorist, or real doctrinal unity. This polemic grants the movement its one valid point, that lower marginal tax rates can spur work, saving, and investment, then attacks the fiscal myth grafted onto it: the Laffer Curve promise that tax cuts will pay for themselves and erase deficits with no confrontation over government spending. Supply-siders, he argues, are closer to Keynesians than they admit, tolerating deficits and cheap money while dressing managed currency in gold symbolism. Through Jude Wanniski's populism he exposes a doctrine that flatters voters by promising mutually inconsistent goods at once.

For the “gold standard” they want provides only the illusion of a gold standard without the substance.

Watch how a spending increase becomes a "cut." Rothbard dissects the vocabulary by which federal economists redescribe fiscal expansion as restraint: budget "cuts" that merely fall below a projected increase, tax "cuts" offset by Social Security hikes and inflation-driven bracket creep, tax increases rebranded as "revenue enhancement," and exemptions recast as "loopholes." He borrows Mises's observation that the very word "loophole" presumes the government rightfully owns all you earn. The pattern, he insists, is never neutral: by swapping observable dollars for baselines and counterfactuals, the state claims austerity while it grows. His most pointed case is the redefinition of the deficit as an inflation-adjusted "real increase" in debt, a maneuver he likens to apologetics for Germany's 1923 hyperinflation, and the shrinking of "down payment" to a hoped-for slowing of future borrowing.

Now we have "budget cuts" which are not cuts, but rather substantial increases over the previous year's expenditures.