The archive.

Victory, not defeat, is the premise of this 1943 prognosis, which asks not whether capitalism deserves approval but what order can survive the war — defining capitalism by private ownership, private profit and loss, and privately created means of payment, then denying that any social system is ever pure. Total war, Schumpeter argues, builds bureaucracies and vested interests that outlast the emergency, while capitalism's own success corrodes its foundations: large-scale enterprise displaces the owner-manager, routinizes the entrepreneur, and breeds the taxation, labor power, and intellectual hostility that turn against it. He rejects the vanishing-investment-opportunity thesis in favor of this self-undermining account, and forecasts not doctrinaire socialism but an amphibial order — a formally private economy sustained by public expenditure, then Guided Capitalism and State Capitalism — cumbersome, mixed, and less vigorous than capitalism at its height.

But it is capitalism in the oxygen tent—kept alive by artificial devices and paralyzed in all those functions that produced the successes of the past.

Can monetary expansion cause inflation without doing so every time? In this 1943 article, Alfred Amonn defends quantity theory by separating a conditional causal claim from the evidence needed to explain an actual rise in prices. His distinctive emphasis falls on how money enters expenditure: commercial credit, government spending, and saving do not have identical effects, nor must additional purchasing power raise consumer prices rather than asset prices. Amonn treats the exchange equation as a constraint, not a self-sufficient causal explanation. His closing thought experiment—whether a fully employed economy could replace taxation with newly printed money without raising prices—makes the dispute concrete. The article offers a way to distinguish monetary mechanisms from automatic predictions, while showing why institutions and the destination of spending matter.

'Forced saving' had wandered through monetary theory, cycle theory, war finance, socialism, rationing, and corporate boardrooms, collecting incompatible meanings along the way — and this 1943 survey sets out to disentangle them. At its core lies a monetary idea: when bank credit or newly active money finances investment, capital formation can exceed what people meant to save, forced on the community, in Machlup's phrase, through monetary witchcraft. But the real consequences vary wildly, from no added investment under immobility to genuine consumption sacrifice at full employment. Drawing on Robertson's careful separation of money 'lacking' from real deprivation, and on Mises, Schumpeter, and Keynes, he ends with a thirty-four-item taxonomy of synonyms and homonyms, deliberately retiring the ambiguous phrase itself. A term that connotes so many meanings, he concludes, has lost its usefulness.

Saving refers merely to money amounts; lacking, on the other hand, refers to “real” quantities.

First published in 1943 and reissued here, this technical study rebuilds foreign-trade theory around the money-income multiplier, discarding the instantaneous multiplier of textbook exposition for a period-by-period sequence in which time itself becomes a variable. Machlup traces how an autonomous export sets off successive rounds of income and induced imports, then layers in induced saving, foreign repercussions across two and three countries, and the capital account, all through numerical model tables and elementary algebra. Foreign trade, he shows, plays a double role—both multiplicand and determinant of the multiplier—so that imports lagging behind exports are what let income rise at all. He closes by refusing the neo-mercantilist temptation, since the multiplier offers no honest warrant for tariffs and quotas once price effects, retaliation, and the gains from international division of labor are admitted.

Only the lag of imports behind exports makes it possible that money income rises as a consequence of the exports.

Economists dismiss pre-eighteenth-century thought as pre-scientific; historians lack the tools to spot economic theory buried in older texts. Against that double neglect, Schumpeter praises Father Dempsey's study of interest and usury for reading late-scholastic theology from within while judging it by modern standards. The Jesuits Molina, Lessius, and de Lugo, he argues, worked in a world already full of money markets, speculation, and negotiable paper, and their empirical method did not differ in logical character from ours. The essay's conceptual center is a sharp separation: economic analysis is valid or invalid autonomously, whatever moral use its results are later put to. From this Schumpeter defends both the scientific seriousness of scholastic inquiry and his warning that modern clergy pronouncing on money and banking must first master the technical economics involved.

Interest holds so central a position in the capitalist organism that it intrudes in practically every economic consideration or valuation.

A quota is not a tariff by another name, even when both cut imports to the same level: where a duty preserves market allocation, price contact between countries, and revenue for the treasury, a quantitative control rigidly fixes quantities, breeds monopoly and quota rents, and shifts power from legislatures to administrators. Written in 1943 with an eye to the postwar settlement, this study traces how licensing born of wartime scarcity hardened, through the sterling crisis and the gold bloc's defensive measures, into a standing tool of protection, retaliation, and bilateral bargaining that fragmented 1930s trade. Haberler roots the persistence of controls in monetary instability and political insecurity, and sets the Atlantic Charter's promise of equal access against the drift toward autarky, warning that a tightly controlled trade system cannot long coexist with a free domestic economy.

From being isolated measures to limit the importation of a few specific commodities, they came to be consciously used in many countries as a general instrument of protection.

A textbook can make a discipline intelligible while concealing how much remains to be questioned. This tension animates Hayek’s 1943 review of Kenneth E. Boulding’s Economic Analysis. Hayek welcomes its coherent presentation of modern theory, especially its advanced marginal analysis and effective diagrams, but objects sharply to its near absence of references to original research and the history of doctrines. His praise and criticism rest on the same educational conviction: students need systematic exposition, yet must not mistake it for the limits of economics. His concrete proposal—to replace chapter questions in an English edition with historical and bibliographical guidance—makes this brief review a pointed account of what university teaching should enable: informed inquiry beyond the textbook.

Shared vulnerability to aggression does not necessarily make nations willing partners in peace. In this 1943 review of Egon Ranshofen-Wertheimer’s Victory Is Not Enough!, Ludwig von Mises tests proposals for European confederation against the persistence of tariffs, migration barriers and exchange controls. His imagined Ruritanian worker gives the objection a concrete edge: why support a federation that preserves other countries’ wage advantages while blocking access to their markets? Mises argues that political institutions cannot secure lasting peace while their members practise economic exclusion. Yet he warmly values the reviewed author’s realism, informed by experience in the League of Nations secretariat. This short review offers a pointed distinction between recognising a common security interest and accepting the economic changes that cooperation demands.

No sophisticated union-project and no diplomatic makeshifts can make peace durable in an environment of economic warfare.

Why might an investor postpone an attractive project—and resume it after an election without judging its prospects any better? In this 1943 article, Shackle locates investment decisions in the individual’s changing imagination of possible futures. His concept of “potential surprise” distinguishes what a person can envisage without disbelief from what they regard as improbable, without assigning probabilities to every outcome. Attention centres on a compelling gain and loss, rather than an average return. Crucially, investors also anticipate changes in their own expectations: waiting preserves opportunities and postpones possible disappointment. This perspective gives liquidity a psychological as well as a financial rationale. Readers can trace how the timing of news, the pleasure of anticipation, and the effort of absorbing surprises may influence investment even when current project valuations offer no obvious reason for change.

A charm may shape conduct even when the observer denies it has any power, for what matters is not the physical object but the purpose someone imputes to it. On this footing Hayek defends the interpretive social sciences against the scientism he knew from within, having trained in Mach and logical positivism. The facts of economics, law, and linguistics are teleological concepts: we grasp an action by analogy with our own mind, fitting movement into patterns of purpose rather than reducing it to behavior. Social theory, he argues, is 'compositive,' assembling models of wholes like markets and states from intelligible individual conduct—and it stands logically prior to history, since no historian can bound a fact like a battle or a legal order by space and time alone.

In short, in the social sciences the things are what people think they are. Money is money, a word is a word, a cosmetic is a cosmetic, if and because somebody thinks they are.

Written in 1943 with postwar reconstruction already in view, this chapter poses a constitutional rather than merely tariff question: whether international cooperation should be built through universal institutions or through larger regional and continental federations. Haberler answers cautiously. Larger markets do permit mass production and a wider division of labour, but that gain belongs to nondiscriminatory liberalization, not to protected spheres, so he separates the complete customs union, which genuinely enlarges a market, from the incomplete preference, which merely diverts imports from cheaper outsiders to favoured insiders and hands them a windfall. Dismantling Pan-Europe, Pan-America, and Danubian schemes as geographically incoherent or coercive, he anticipates the later vocabulary of trade creation and diversion, and warns that partial blocs turn cooperation into exclusion.

To put the question the other way around: suppose that some machinery for international co-operation on a worldwide scale, like the League of Nations, is set up; should it be based on regional blocs or on independent states?

Knowing how to get across a city is not the same as knowing how to map it. In this essay, first published in 1943 and republished here in 1964, Alfred Schütz uses the native, stranger, and cartographer to distinguish practical understanding from scientific explanation. His central question is what happens when social scientists judge everyday action by standards of knowledge and consistency developed for theory. Ordinary actors rely on workable recipes; theoretical actors possess motives and information stipulated by their creators. Schütz defends such models without confusing them with living people. Readers can discover both why routine conduct need not be irrational and why a logically coherent explanation must still answer to the meanings an action has for those involved.