The archive.

Wartime scarcity brings Hayek and Keynes into agreement—but leaves a pointed disagreement about what should follow peace. In this 1940 review of Keynes’s How to Pay for the War, Hayek endorses compulsory deferred pay: workers would surrender purchasing power now while retaining claims on future income, rather than losing it through inflation. His defence turns on who bears an unavoidable sacrifice and whether that sacrifice earns compensation. Yet he resists Keynes’s proposed cash repayment after the war, preferring to give holders of deferred balances ownership of productive capital. This short review offers a precise encounter between fiscal necessity, protection of poorer households, and conflicting expectations about postwar spending, showing where Hayek’s substantial support for Keynes’s scheme ends.

The only choice we have is whether or not the inevitable sacrifice of the poor shall at least give them a share in our future income.

Can wartime sacrifice be explained openly, rather than imposed through financial mechanisms the public scarcely notices? In this short 1940 review of Geoffrey Crowther’s Ways and Means of War, republished in 1997, Hayek praises an account of Britain’s economic choices that makes scarcity a matter of competing priorities: nearly anything may be attainable, but not everything at once. His approval sharpens into disagreement when Crowther suggests that reductions in private consumption cannot be openly faced. Hayek argues that citizens who understood the choice between taxation and inflation would prefer honest, explicit burdens. The review offers a compact encounter with his confidence in public understanding—and his insistence that economic leadership must explain the material cost of victory, not merely promise it.

How should a history of economic theory compare doctrines that changed in response to their critics? In this 1940 review of Gaëtan Pirou’s lectures on marginal utility, Oskar Morgenstern praises exact exposition while questioning comparisons that set early formulations against later objections. His scrutiny is concrete: Austrian attention to monopoly helps explain the challenge to classical value theory, while Pirou’s grouping of Fetter with Seligman risks confusing distinct accounts of welfare and social value. Morgenstern also asks why Carver receives more attention than Fisher. The review offers a compact encounter with his standards for intellectual history: distinguish neighboring concepts, question inherited reputations, and keep the chronology of controversy visible.

Can Dewey’s account of scientific inquiry stand without the naturalism and pragmatism that accompany it? In this review of John Dewey’s Logic—The Theory of Inquiry, Felix Kaufmann makes that question the basis of a discriminating endorsement. He accepts the interdependence of meanings within inquiry, but argues that naturalistic explanations rest on presuppositions requiring further analysis, and that theoretical goals remain distinguishable from practical ends. His distinctive contribution is to locate common ground between Dewey and philosophical traditions often treated as opponents, including Marburg neo-Kantianism and Husserl’s phenomenology. The review offers readers a precise way to distinguish the methodological force of Dewey’s logic from its broader philosophical commitments, without dismissing either in advance.

Social scientists study a world that its inhabitants already interpret: tools, gestures and institutions carry meanings before they become objects of research. In this essay, represented by the German manuscript version with an attached January 1939 draft, Alfred Schütz asks how scientific explanation can transform those meanings without losing its footing in everyday experience. He draws on Husserl’s phenomenology while distinguishing the social sciences’ concern with relations among people from the transcendental problem of how another self is constituted. His engagement with Max Weber makes the methodological stakes concrete: the economic actor and legal subject are useful constructions, not people encountered in life. Readers can trace why ideal types are necessary—and why, for Schütz, mistaking them for reality undermines the understanding they enable.

Market socialism arrived as a concession: Lange, Taylor, and Dickinson would keep state ownership yet let a central board set producer-good prices, instruct managers to equate marginal cost with price, and revise figures by trial and error as shortages and surpluses appeared. Hayek treats the maneuver as a mistaking of a static equilibrium model for a living process. Real economic life is ceaseless change—local scarcities, new methods, altered demand, particular machines and contracts—and by the time reports reach the authority and fresh prices issue, the relevant conditions have moved. His socialist manager, forbidden to undercut, speculate, or bid resources away, becomes a rule-following functionary who innovates only by persuading his superiors in advance, while central control of investment quietly restores the planning it claimed to escape.

If this will not lead to the worst forms of bureaucracy, I do not know what will.

Grant the planners their most ingenious model, and the calculation problem still bites—such is Hayek's verdict on competitive socialism in this German essay. Two earlier chapters of the debate may be closed, he allows: calculation in kind, and the fantasy of solving equilibrium's equations. The third, advanced by Oskar Lange, Fred Taylor, and H. D. Dickinson, keeps consumer choice and marginal-cost rules for managers while handing the pricing of producer goods to a central board that adjusts by trial and error. Hayek's objection turns on speed and knowledge: administered prices lag the daily flux of local conditions, made-to-order capital goods resist listing, and without free entry no cheaper method can underbid an incumbent. What survives is only quasi-competition—and, once investment is centrally directed, a standing threat to freedom.

Mit anderen Worten, wenn man wirklich alle diese Gleichungen wissen könnte, so wäre das einzige Mittel, das den menschlichen Kräften zu ihrer Lösung zur Verfügung stünde, die praktische Lösung zu beobachten, die der Markt vornimmt.

English translation: “In other words, even if one really could know all these equations, the only means available to human powers for their solution would be to observe the practical solution that the market carries out.”

Economic change looks different when analysis follows people’s plans through disappointment and revision rather than taking a shortcut to equilibrium. In this review of Erik Lindahl’s Studies in the Theory of Money and Capital, Shackle welcomes Swedish “period analysis” for making that process tractable, while questioning the foundation on which it rests. If expectations govern action, is “probability” an adequate account of what individuals do not know about the future? His praise for Lindahl’s framework is qualified by a demand for precise meanings of risk and uncertainty. This short review lets readers see both the appeal of an economics built around changing plans and Shackle’s insistence that its treatment of ignorance cannot remain unspecified.

Delayed access can change the value of an economic argument: what might once have clarified a debate may arrive after its readers have struggled through the same problems themselves. In this brief review of Erik Lindahl’s Studies in the Theory of Money and Capital, Hayek regrets the late availability in English of ideas first outlined in Swedish. Yet his strongest preference is not for Lindahl’s newer monetary analysis, but for the earlier attempt to integrate capital into price theory in Wicksell’s tradition. He praises the distinction between ex ante and ex post perspectives while questioning economics’ increasingly exclusive monetary focus. The review offers a compact view of Hayek’s priorities: theoretical novelty matters, but so does sustained attention to the “real” problems that monetary debate can leave behind.

A close numerical fit need not justify a statistical inference. In this 1940 article, Gerhard Tintner examines what economists can legitimately conclude from observations whose successive values depend on one another. His central tension is that the random fluctuations most amenable to existing probability methods may be less economically revealing than persistent trends and cycles. Distinguishing correlation from the “covariation” of systematic movements, he challenges the assumption that removing a trend makes conventional significance tests valid. His demand for flexible methods grounded in economic theory gives the article a concrete methodological focus: readers can discover why separating components, fitting equations, and establishing evidence are different tasks—and why success at one does not guarantee success at the others.

A fine collection does not necessarily make a useful reference book. In this short review of Elsie A. G. Marsh’s catalogue of Jacob H. Hollander’s economic library, Hayek brings a bibliophile’s pleasure together with a scholar’s exacting demands. He admires the holdings in pre-Smithian and classical English economics, but shows how abbreviated titles, awkward chronological grouping and missing journal names impede their use. The distinction gives this compact piece its interest: readers encounter Hayek assessing not economic doctrine but the practical means by which its sources can be found and studied. His hope that the library will remain intact and accessible sits alongside an amused prediction that collectors will eventually prize the catalogue itself.

American tariff policy cannot be read off a welfare diagram, this 1940 address insists: protection in the United States preceded the republic itself and grew inseparable from the young nation's drive to make its independence economically real, in a world still organized by empire and war. Schumpeter treats the tariff as a historical institution rather than a technical deviation from free trade, and presents America as an unusually strong case for the Hamilton–List infant-industry argument — a continental market and natural wealth muting protection's usual distortions while it hastened industries likely to arise anyway. He concedes the standing objections, and the high-cost dependents such as wool and sugar, yet concludes that in a mercantilist, conflict-prone world protection's value as a shield for an established industrial order remains as strong as ever.

Protection—or non-intercourse acts and so on—then was simply the economic complement of political independence or of the will to buttress that independence.