The archive.

Delivered as an address in Brussels in 1974, this brief tribute remembers Ludwig von Mises less through doctrine than through bearing—the teacher who, in his New York seminar, still urged students to read German and who carried, for younger admirers, a last breath of the noble atmosphere of pre-1914 Vienna. Rothbard's estimate of the achievement is exact: Mises built an integrated structure of economics, methodology, philosophy, and history at a time when such architectonic systems had grown unfashionable, and it was precisely that scale the narrowing academy could not recognize. Neglect, on this reading, indicts the age rather than the man. From intellectual scale Rothbard turns to moral character—the courage to keep producing unfashionable truth without trimming principle for status—and closes by observing that Mises's influence was accelerating among younger scholars even after his death.

Every person is in some sense unique and irreplaceable, but I think it is fair to say that Ludwig von Mises was uniquely unique.

The paradox is stark: the liberal market order had just delivered West Germany's soziale Marktwirtschaft and a quarter-century of prosperity, yet Hayek, in this 1975 Zurich lecture, judged its future bleak. Credit expansion, he argues, has trapped governments, since halting inflation would bring politically unbearable unemployment, so they suppress symptoms through price and wage controls that disable the very price mechanism and push society toward central direction. Behind the monetary danger lies an institutional one: legislatures of unlimited power that assemble majorities by dispensing privileges, eroding the older Lockean conception of law as general rules of just conduct. Distributive justice he calls a wholly empty notion outside a command organization; his remedy is a constitution that severs lawmaking from government direction.

Er kann sich Sonderwünschen nicht versagen, solange er die Macht hat, sie zu befriedigen.

English translation: “He cannot refuse special demands so long as he has the power to satisfy them.”

Bossuet still divides sacred from profane history; Voltaire makes Christianity one episode in the advance of the human spirit, and with that shift, traced through this volume, salvation migrates inside history. Assembled from an unpublished history of political ideas, the argument runs from that opening contrast through Helvétius's sensualist anthropology of closure and the positivism of d'Alembert, Turgot, and Condorcet to Comte's Religion of Humanity and its Grand-Être. Progress becomes eschatology without God, a theogony of substitutes, reason, humanity, nation, class. The French Revolution appears as anti-Christian political religion, Bakunin as naked revolutionary nihilism, and Marx as a gnostic socialist whose dialectical materialism, Voegelin argues, refuses to theorize at all. One shared closure against transcendence links positivism, anarchism, communism, and National Socialism into a single genealogy of modern political religion.

The climax of this is the magic dream of creating the Superman, the man-made Being that will succeed the sorry creature of God's making.

A one-year moratorium is all Rothbard asks for in this comic New Year's reprimand to the libertarian movement: no more survivalists urging flight to the hills with stockpiles of dried beans, no more escapist schemes to found liberty on offshore platforms and islands like Minerva, Abaco, or Atlantis, no more therapeutic chatter about open relationships and getting in touch with one's feelings, and, for good measure, a year without science fiction. Behind the satire runs a serious demand: liberty is won by disciplined engagement with actual institutions, not by fantasies of purity, withdrawal, or self-expression. Rothbard writes as an irritated insider who prefers a crippled market and urban comfort to any private Eden, insisting the movement come back and fight for freedom at home.

I know it's a hopeless fantasy, but I can dream, can't I?

Should national currencies float freely against one another like any other market price? Milton Friedman and the Chicago School said yes; Rothbard's answer is that the question rests on a false analogy. A market makes sense between different goods, not between different units of the same good, and the dollar, pound, and franc were once merely names for definite weights of gold. Written after the collapse of Bretton Woods, this essay recasts the classical gold standard not as arbitrary price-fixing but as a monetary order in which exchange rates follow from fixed definitions, the way pounds and ounces do. Fluctuating fiat money, Rothbard argues, fractures the unit of account, works like a hidden tariff, invites inflation and exchange controls, and drifts back toward barter.

It is virtually a law of politics that government will use the power that it is given.

Ludwig von Mises tested a young university student in 1921 by demanding he read English, assigning the major economics books, and admitting him to the seminar only when he returned having read most of them. From that scene Machlup builds a commemorative portrait of Mises as teacher, political seer, and exemplar of liberal conviction. He distinguishes the selective private Privatseminar at the Vienna Chamber of Commerce from the university course, recalls Mises’s foresight about the Kreditanstalt collapse, and frames the emigrations of Hayek, Haberler, and himself as heeding the master’s warning. Defending Mises’s apriorism as theory that still requires judgment in application, he reports socialist economists privately conceding the calculation argument: without genuine markets, prices become administrative fictions rather than guides to allocation.

IT WAS in 1921 that I met my master.

What defines the State, on Rothbard's account, is not the provision of defense, courts, or law, but two things only: revenue extracted through coerced taxation and a compulsory territorial monopoly over protection. Strip those away and anarchism becomes not the absence of order but the absence of legalized aggression against person and property. Delivered in 1974, this compact statement of polycentric legal theory imagines disputes resolved through competing private courts, arbitration bodies, and insurance-linked protection agencies, drawing on William Wooldridge's history of merchant law and on the thousands of arbitrations already conducted outside state compulsion. The Jones family thought experiment turns the standard case for monopoly government into a reductio, while a shared libertarian law code forbidding aggression holds the whole framework together.

Pay us for your 'protection' or else.

Delivered in 1974 as a tribute to Ludwig von Mises, this address casts him not as a surviving nineteenth-century liberal but as a thinker who independently rediscovered classical liberalism after outgrowing the mild Fabian socialism of his Viennese youth. Hayek traces the arc: the early theory of money, the Chamber of Commerce years, the wartime turn to social order in Nation, State and the Economy, and the critique of socialist calculation that crowned his vision of a free society. He dwells on the cost, the ridicule and academic marginalization in Vienna that denied Mises a full professorship, and on the renewal that exile to Geneva and then America brought. Against Knight, Eucken, and Cannan, only Mises, he insists, supplied a comprehensive guiding philosophy.

He knew. He suffered. But he persevered because what he expounded were his profound convictions.

Why do people consent to their own enslavement? Rescued here from Montaigne's shadow, the sixteenth-century Discourse of Voluntary Servitude is read by Rothbard as an abstract inquiry into the mechanics of domination rather than a topical anti-tyrannical pamphlet. La Boétie's insight is that no tyrant holds independent power: subjects lend him their taxes, offices, soldiers, and submission, so every regime rests finally on popular acquiescence. From this follows a strategy of liberation by withdrawal — not tyrannicide but collective refusal to cooperate. Rothbard reconstructs why so simple a remedy is rarely taken: habit deforms the memory of freedom, spectacle and mystification manufacture consent, and a hierarchy of favorites and officials profits from despotism and passes it downward. He closes by turning the analysis on the modern state, whose mystique a perceptive minority must demystify and desanctify.

Resolve to serve no more, and you are at once freed.

Reformers who chase an 'ideal money,' Hazlitt argues, divide into four camps, discretionary and rule-bound versions of both paper and gold, and the disorder of the mid-1970s is no accident but the fruit of the first. Discretionary fiat draws his sharpest fire: by tethering weak currencies to the dollar, Bretton Woods exported inflation across the world. Monetarism fares only marginally better, since a legislated money-growth rule would become a political football the instant recession loomed. Gold earns his defense not as nostalgia but because it cannot be conjured by statute; even so, he faults the classical fractional-reserve standard for breeding the cycle of boom and slump, and points instead toward enforceable private contracts payable in gold and a full, 100 percent reserve standard growing up beside state paper.

The great merit of gold is precisely that it is scarce; that its quantity is limited by nature; that it is costly to discover, to mine, and to process; and that it cannot be created by political fiat or caprice.

Traced back far enough, the monetary breakdown of the early 1970s begins not with Nixon but with the inflation of the First World War and the postwar myth of a gold 'shortage.' Hazlitt follows the wreckage forward through the gold-exchange standard of Genoa and Bretton Woods, where holding dollars and sterling as reserves multiplied paper claims on a shrinking gold base. Citing Jacques Rueff and John Exter, he dismisses Special Drawing Rights as politically minted paper and casts the IMF as a machine for pooling and disguising national inflation. His remedy is blunt: abolish SDRs, dismantle the Fund, halt Federal Reserve credit, balance the budget by cutting spending, and let a free gold market discover a workable conversion rate, assuming any government will abandon the ideology of perpetual inflation.

The IMF has served merely as a world inflation factory.

There is the master of his subject, commanding the whole theory and every important fact, lucid in exposition and quick with answers, and there is the puzzler, who retains almost nothing in orderly form yet is transformed by what he reads. Drawing the contrast from his own experience and from Isaiah Berlin's hedgehog and fox, Hayek redefines learnedness: knowledge need not be retrievable propositions but may consist in altered relations among concepts, hearing and reading changing the colours of one's ideas. Forgetting the accepted answer, he argues, forces reconstruction and exposes the gaps a fluent memory glides over, so that muddleheadedness becomes a precondition of independent thought. The essay turns polemical about universities, warning that examination-based selection filters out latent originality and proposing admission earned through austerity and demonstrated passion rather than test performance.

Accident has early drawn my attention to the contrast between two types of scientific thinking which I have since again and again been watching with growing fascination.