3,015 works, 150 years of economic thought. Each one summarized and searchable, with cited passages inside.
Labor scarcity might seem to promise stronger bargaining power. In this 1916 chronicle of German trade unionism, Emil Lederer asks why wartime industrial prosperity and official recognition of unions could coexist with declining purchasing power and constrained collective action. His answer turns on concrete distinctions: wage increases versus longer working hours, regulated food prices versus goods actually available, and leadership declarations versus members’ convictions. Drawing on statistics, wage agreements, administrative measures, and the union press, he shows how the strike truce and restrictions on workers’ mobility limited the advantages of strong labor demand. The political stakes emerge in his examination of socialist accommodation to national war aims: readers can trace how unions’ institutional acceptance could weaken their independence without extinguishing conflict over wages or dissent within their ranks.
Free trade can consolidate political power; equal treatment of trading partners can reflect distrust of alliances rather than independence from diplomacy. In this 1916 article, Karl Pribram uses British commercial policy and competing Prussian and Austrian customs projects to unsettle any fixed opposition between economic openness and state ambition. His immediate concern is the proposed economic union of Germany and Austria-Hungary: how much of its apparent necessity rests on preparations for another war? Pribram’s distinctive move is to ask whose welfare economic reasoning takes as its ultimate end—the individual, the national economy, or an enduring defensive alliance. Readers can discover how rival policy recommendations embed assumptions about friendship, blockade, and political belonging even when presented as strictly economic conclusions.
How far can Ricardo’s labour theory of value explain exchange before it needs assumptions it cannot itself supply? Reporting the collaborative findings of a Heidelberg seminar, Emil Lederer tests the first seven chapters of the Principles from within, accepting their premises provisionally rather than dismissing them from a rival standpoint. The report interprets value as a relation between exchanged goods, not an underlying substance, and distinguishes deviations the theory can explain from those it cannot determine. Differences in capital composition remain intelligible within Ricardo’s framework; scarcity and international trading prices expose its limits. Readers can discover how close attention to assumptions yields unexpected consequences—including the possibility that accumulating rents might sustain investment despite falling industrial profits and shift industrial ownership toward landowners.
Free trade may increase prosperity without preserving a nation’s population or political power. In this 1916 article, Ludwig von Mises locates the difficulty in the movement of people and capital: economic freedom can draw workers abroad, where their descendants may assimilate into another national community. Tariffs promise to retain them, yet, he argues, higher living costs and less productive employment undermine that very purpose. His defense of free trade thus confronts national aims that economic welfare alone cannot answer. The tension becomes especially sharp in his advocacy of settlement colonies for Germany, with its racialized assumptions about settlement and assimilation. Readers encounter both a concrete account of why protection may defeat its demographic objectives and a revealing conjunction of economic liberalism with nationalist and colonial ambitions.
Labor scarcity can improve employees’ bargaining position without giving their organizations lasting power. In this 1917 chronicle of German salaried employees, Emil Lederer examines that discrepancy through association finances, salary movements and wartime social legislation. His distinctions are concrete: assets reserved for welfare cannot necessarily finance collective action, nominal pay increases may conceal losses to inflation, and legal representation can coexist with restrictions on changing jobs. He connects these institutional limits to employees’ claims to middle-class status, which complicate solidarity with manual workers even under worsening material conditions. The result offers a way to understand why hardship does not produce a predictable political allegiance—and why membership totals, welfare provision and formal recognition are unreliable measures of an organization’s capacity to confront employers.
Slight in substance, this single sheet of official stationery carries a whole wartime transaction: the president of the Reichsrat's Abgeordnetenhaus thanking an unnamed general for the prompt, courteous handling of a petition to release one Julius Abele from military duty. What survives is less a story about Abele than a study in form. In the last full year of the war, Cisleithanian parliamentary authority approaches the military not with command but with studied deference—gratitude, institutional decorum, the ceremonial 'Mit vorzüglicher Hochachtung.' The whole machinery of late Habsburg civil-military relations is caught here in miniature, an administrative favour converted into a bond of obligation, the courtesy of one office toward another standing in for the fragile interdependence of parliament and army in imperial Vienna.
Für die rasche und freundliche Erledigung des Ansuchens betreffend die Enthebung des Julius Abele erlaube ich mir Euer Hochwohlgeboren meinen verbindlichsten Dank auszusprechen.
English translation: “For the prompt and gracious handling of the petition concerning the release from duty of Julius Abele, I take the liberty of expressing to Your Honor my most obliging thanks.”
Reluctantly bound for Vienna to address the Political Society, Schumpeter turns a courtesy letter of 16 July 1917 into a compressed diagnosis of the Habsburg wartime crisis. His thesis is blunt: because the Monarchy can never find internal peace without an understanding with the Slavs, that understanding must be made as easy as possible—not harder through more aggressive German-national pressure. Loyalty to the state he affirms, and indignation at disloyal words he shares, but once allegiance is secured he would have the matter forgiven and forgotten. Closer attachment to the German Reich might bring advantages, yet it risks driving the Slavs to extremes and damaging Austria-Hungary abroad. He recoils from a proposed twenty-four-member ministry and doubts the hour for parliamentary rule has come, proposing instead a government of independent men of standing united by shared conservative principle.
Es ist ja wahr: Die Deutschen haben die Ambitionen, aber weder das politische Talent noch die Macht der Ungarn.
English translation: “It is indeed true: the Germans have the ambitions, but neither the political talent nor the power of the Hungarians.”
Recent political failures, Schumpeter argues in this letter of 25 June 1917, should not be read as a verdict against reconvening parliament; however little the Austrian constitution deserves admiration, the causes of the debacle lay elsewhere. He separates the failure of political management from any supposed failure of constitutionalism, then presses a threefold remedy: a coronation in Prague, sufficient concessions to the South Slavs, and a firm stance toward the German Reich. His sharpest scorn falls on the "Beamtenkabinett"—a bureaucratic cabinet with neither authority nor will, certain to yield to German-national dictation just as the trade-treaty and Ausgleich negotiations and the food crisis demand strength. Centralist rule without parliament, or mere delay in forming a definitive cabinet, he warns, brings the possibility of catastrophe within tangible reach.
Gebe Gott, daß ich mich täusche, allein so stellt sich mir die Sache dar.
English translation: “God grant that I am mistaken; but this is how the matter presents itself to me.”
An over-tightly buckled martingale: that is what the Dualist constitution has become for the Slavic peoples, Schumpeter writes to Count Otto Harrach on 6 July 1917, and against it the horses harnessed to the Monarchy chafe themselves to exhaustion. The evils blamed on nationality conflict trace back to Dualism itself, making "Reconstruction" unavoidable. He then reverses the familiar liberal complaint: Austria suffers not from too little democracy but from democratic institutions grafted onto a society that, unlike England's, cannot handle them, so that parliament and press slip out of control for want of governing skill. Parliamentary disorder is a symptom of absent leadership, not its cause. He favors one more attempt at a Bohemian settlement in Thun's spirit, without exposing the Crown to responsibility, and warns that any pact touching the Monarchy's independence could push its still-loyal Slavic majorities into open hostility.
Und kommt es zu Abmachungen, die die Selbstständigkeit der Monarchie tangieren, so werden die Slawen wirklich das werden, was sie ihrer Majorität nach sicher noch nicht sind – Feinde des Staates.
English translation: “And should agreements be reached that affect the independence of the Monarchy, then the Slavs will truly become what, in their majority, they certainly are not yet – enemies of the state.”
A theory can predict the order of purchases correctly yet misidentify why consumers choose them. This is the tension driving Karel Engliš’s 1917 critique of Robert Liefmann’s law of equalized marginal returns. Engliš argues that the subjective value of money cannot independently explain an allocation when that value itself depends on the consumption opportunities available. Through numerical counterexamples, he separates utility per monetary unit from surplus over subjective sacrifice, then asks why allocating labor requires a different treatment from spending money already held. His criticism preserves parts of Liefmann’s insight while exposing circular valuation and the risk of counting sacrifice twice. The article offers a precise encounter with economic explanation: what must be compared, in which units, and relative to whose purposes?
Two 1917 lectures at Vienna's Technische Hochschule trace economic history as a movement from small, self-sufficient units toward ever wider and more fragile webs of dependence. Adopting Bücher's clean sequence of house, city, and national economy, Schwiedland argues that each stage requires an organizer — household head, municipal authority, modern state — and on that ground denies that a true Weltwirtschaft yet exists: world trade flourishes, but no universal authority orders it. The second lecture turns to specialization, which enriches humanity even as it binds every farmer, exporter, and official into a vulnerable net of contracts and credit. Against the liberal faith in a harmonizing international division of labour, he reads imperialism as a struggle for secure food, raw materials, and markets, and wartime controls as a possible route beyond economic anarchy.
Trägerin und Ernährerin des Lebens ist die Erde.
English translation: “The earth is the bearer and sustainer of life.”
How does collective life form, discipline, and yet depend on the individuals who compose it? These two 1917 lectures pose that question across sociology, ethics, law, and economics. The first, on social discipline, treats custom, morality, and law as graded forms of regulation distinguished by their sanction — conscience, public opinion, coercion — with law crystallizing from older custom once authority enforces it; the state, tellingly, demands morality of its citizens while suspending it in politics and war. The second turns to the forces that bind persons into associations — religion, homeland, common interest, the state — and argues that social processes, though interindividual, are supra-individual in their effects. Schwiedland resists both crude collectivism and unbound individualism, seeking instead a practical harmony between the happiness of the person and that of the whole.
Sitte ist äußere Übung, Sittlichkeit innerliche Gesinnung.
English translation: “Custom is outward practice; morality is inward disposition.”