The archive.

National Socialism cannot be grasped as mere immorality, propaganda, or institutional power; it is a religious phenomenon, and a satanic force cannot be beaten by ethics and humanity alone. From that 1938 provocation Voegelin builds a morphology of sacred-political symbols reaching back to Echnaton's Aton cult, where a world-god and god-son king bind cosmos and empire. His decisive concept is the Realissimum: whatever is experienced as holy becomes the most real center around which collective life crystallizes. When secularization lets worldly contents — people, race, class, nation — swell until God vanishes behind them, these become innerworldly apocalypses, and the Führer becomes the point at which the sacred substance of the people speaks. Judged from a Christian standpoint, such divinization of collectives is apostasy.

Wo immer ein Wirkliches im religiösen Erlebnis sich als ein Heiliges zu erkennen gibt, wird es zum Allerwirklichsten, zum Realissimum.

English translation: “Wherever a reality reveals itself in religious experience as a sacred one, it becomes the most real of all, the realissimum.”

Does the equality of saving and investment express an economic fact, or follow from how the terms are defined? In this brief 1938 reply, Gottfried Haberler challenges Copeland’s claim that consistent definitions necessarily produce equality, while defending Robertson’s terminology against an alleged contradiction. His approach is neither to reject accounting identities nor to impose one vocabulary, but to distinguish what definitions establish from what requires economic explanation. The concrete test is timing: today’s earned income is not the same as today’s disposable income when the latter means yesterday’s earnings. Following this distinction, readers can see how spending from hoards or newly created money enters the account—and how shifting the meaning of “income” can manufacture a contradiction.

The vocabulary of freedom, Hayek warns, has been turned inside out — "liberalism" now names the restrictions that collectivists promise will free men from want. Written on the eve of war and anticipating The Road to Serfdom, this Chicago pamphlet argues that comprehensive planning threatens the liberties it claims to enlarge. Its logic is institutional, not conspiratorial: directing all economic life requires agreement on a ranked scale of social ends that plural societies simply lack, so planners must impose values and then manufacture belief in them. Prices, by contrast, combine dispersed knowledge no single mind commands. Because whoever controls the means controls the ends they serve, economic dictatorship cannot stay merely economic — propaganda and the suppression of dissent become essential parts of the system. Only competitive capitalism, he contends, keeps democracy from having to decide everything, and so from destroying itself.

Freedom and liberalism have become terms that are used to describe the exact opposite of their historic meaning.

Agreement that society should be more just does not settle whose needs should take precedence when resources are scarce. In this 1938 article, republished in 1997, Friedrich August von Hayek makes that gap central to his critique of comprehensive economic planning. He acknowledges the socialist ambition to enlarge freedom, but argues that centrally directing individual activities requires a ranking of purposes on which democratic citizens cannot agree. Delegating decisions to experts cannot resolve this conflict of values; in his account, it instead encourages unchecked authority and the suppression of dissent. The article offers a pointed connection between economic allocation and intellectual liberty: readers can examine why Hayek regards disagreement not as an obstacle to social reason, but as one of its necessary conditions.

If saving and investment are equal by definition, what can their equality explain? In this 1938 essay, Gottfried Haberler separates an accounting identity from the monetary processes and changing plans that business-cycle theory must explain. His engagement with Keynes is discriminating: he accepts the saving–investment identity while challenging its use as an explanation of adjustment. The same concern for conceptual precision shapes his treatment of national income as a welfare measure. More medical spending need not mean better health, and government services cannot all be counted alike without risking duplication or misleading valuation. Readers can discover why welfare appraisal, causal explanation, and statistical estimation require different definitions—and why a discrepancy between measured saving and investment need not establish economic disequilibrium.

Every government that gathered at Geneva professed the Cobdenite creed that commerce breeds peace; every government, called to concrete concessions, reached instead for the tariff, the quota, and the bargaining duty. Delivered as the Cobden Lectures at the London School of Economics in February 1938, these three lectures reconstruct two decades of League conferences—Brussels, Genoa, the bold 1927 resolution to halt and reverse the rise of tariffs, the wrecked London gathering of 1933—and ask why they failed. Rappard sorts the protectionist arguments by purpose rather than chronology, weighing infant-industry claims and agrarian defenses, and locates the deepest cause not in ignorance or private greed but in the fear of war, which drove nations toward autarky. From Geneva, he warns, no honest message of optimism can come.

Thus those who could, will not, and those who would, cannot.

What makes an annotated statute useful as a record of legal change? In this brief review, Helene Lieser singles out the earlier Austrian laws appended to Edmund Prochaska’s edition of the new Czechoslovak instalment-transactions law. Her approval rests on that juxtaposition: current legislation becomes clearer when its predecessors are available alongside it. The notice records a concise judgment about legal documentation rather than an assessment of particular statutory provisions.

Confusion about the calculus, the authors contend, usually springs not from calculus itself but from shaky command of the algebra, geometry, and limits beneath it. Written for beginners rather than as a treatise on mathematical economics, this primer builds from graphing total cost against output toward the ideas an economist must handle to read the published literature: the limit, the derivative, marginal cost and marginal utility as special cases of it, maxima and minima, Lagrange multipliers for constrained cost minimization, Euler's theorem and the exhaustion of product under competition, least-squares regression, and Cramer's rule for market equilibrium. W. L. Crum credits Joseph Schumpeter with the volume's major additions, and the economic example — never abstract rigor for its own sake — governs every step.

The derivative of $y$ with respect to $x$ is the instantaneous rate of change of $y$ with $x$.

Can an economy hoard money even when its total cash holdings remain unchanged? In this reply to R. F. Kahn’s review of Prosperity and Depression, Gottfried Haberler argues that it can: expenditure and income may fall without any reduction in the money stock. This distinction anchors his defence of a monetary account of economic fluctuations against Kahn’s criticisms. Haberler’s distinctive concern is to separate differences of vocabulary from differences of explanation—especially where saving–investment identities threaten to substitute for accounts of how adjustment occurs. His qualified acceptance of public works sharpens the stakes: additional government spending must increase total demand, not merely displace expenditure elsewhere. The reply offers a focused encounter with the contested boundary between monetary circulation, effective demand, and the financing of recovery.

Confident opinion at the turn of the century assumed democracy's advance was as irreversible as the tide; by 1938 Bolshevism, Fascism, and National Socialism had made that assumption look naive. Across six lectures given on the Harris Foundation at Chicago, Rappard defines democracy not by its etymology but by the paired ideals of liberty and equality, then traces its uneven rise from Athens through Britain, France, and his native Switzerland. He reads the three great dictatorships as offspring of the World War—Lenin's from defeat, Mussolini's from disappointed victory, Hitler's from Versailles and slump—and diagnoses the strain within surviving democracies as a crisis of parliamentarism rather than of democracy itself. The remedy he presses is unfashionable: a retreat of the state from economic life, without which self-government becomes an illusion.

Democracy thrives on peace, and dictatorships on war.

The double meaning of the word Volk, Amonn contends, has quietly corrupted the foundations of economics by fusing the pure theoretical categories of the exchange economy with the practical concepts of Volkswirtschaftslehre. This introduction to economic thinking—second edition of 1944, essentially unchanged from the 1938 original—treats concepts frankly as instruments made by thought and defines each by the problem it is meant to solve. Moving from economic goods, scarcity, and Wohlstand through the production factors, prices, money, credit, and comparative costs, he denies that Volkswirtschaft is any real unit like a household, insisting it is only an ideational association of separate economies. Four appendices turn the method against Max Weber, Sombart, Gottl, and Englis, whose definitions he finds either candidly stipulative or objective merely in appearance.

Begriffe sind Denkwerkzeuge.

English translation: “Concepts are tools of thought.”

Theoretical disagreement need not erase intellectual gratitude. In this brief 1939 review of John Bates Clark: A Memorial, reprinted with editorial annotations, Hayek recalls Clark’s generosity toward younger scholars while rejecting his reduction to a believer in natural economic harmony. Rather than defend marginal productivity analysis at length, he offers a personal recollection and a revealing document: Clark’s 1890 letter to Robert Zuckerkandl, describing his initial belief that he had independently discovered principles of value and acknowledging Austrian predecessors. The letter gives substance to Hayek’s account of cordial relations across the capital-theory controversy. This small review preserves a precise glimpse of how recognition, mentorship and disagreement could coexist among economists.