The archive.

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.

How can expectations enter a science of action when the future is uncertain and every observable fact admits rival readings? The answer here refuses two easy paths: against Keynes, Morgenstern, and Myrdal, Lachmann denies that expectations are ultimate data like tastes and resources; against Lundberg and Schumpeter, he denies they can be deduced from objective business situations. A price rise may signal reversion or inflation, so meaning arrives only through the actor's interpretation, and economics needs ideal types and historical understanding rather than deterministic law. From this he builds a theory of plan-guided action and tests it on Hicks's elasticity of expectations and on interest-rate formation, concluding that an Austro-Wicksellian crisis requires a particular expectational climate. The essay makes intelligibility, not determinateness, the proper aim of social science.

The Social World consists not of facts but of our interpretations of the facts.

Openness to new economic ideas need not mean surrender to intellectual fashion. In this brief 1944 review of Oscar R. Hobson’s Can We Afford It?, Hayek praises a financial journalist who states an argument fairly before explaining why it leaves him unconvinced. Hayek’s almost complete agreement with Hobson is explicit, but his judgement also rests on the craft of making difficult questions intelligible in a few paragraphs. The review offers a compact statement of what he values in public economic discussion: attention to immediate policy problems, sensitivity to the ideas behind them, and resistance to treating either yesterday’s paradoxes or today’s commonplaces as final wisdom.

An elegant economic model need not be a convincing explanation. In this 1944 review of Kalecki’s Studies in Economic Dynamics, G. L. S. Shackle examines the distance between the two with admiration and exacting scrutiny. He praises an interest-rate theory whose statistical test could genuinely have counted against it, but presses the business-cycle model on its assumptions about timing and entrepreneurs’ knowledge of cyclical regularities. His objections remain concrete: inventories and working capital cannot contract below zero, a limit that matters for explaining recovery from a slump. This short review offers a focused encounter with Shackle’s standards of explanation—what evidence tests, what algebra conceals, and when simplifying assumptions require further defence.

James Wilson’s relative neglect beside Walter Bagehot gives Hayek’s brief review of two Economist centenary publications its sharpest edge. Why, he asks, does the journal’s founder receive no comparable portrait, and so little attention for his views on the trade cycle? Hayek welcomes the essay volume’s readability under wartime conditions—its archives destroyed and space restricted by paper shortages—without accepting every claim it makes for the journal’s political continuity. His judgments reveal an economist attentive both to neglected theoretical contributions and to the documentary needs of historians. The separate, identically titled pamphlet receives chiefly a bibliographic warning: it contains different material. This is a compact encounter with Hayek as a critical reader of institutional commemoration, balancing appreciation against omissions and evidential limits.

Periodically, in the open air and by collective oath, the Swiss cantons swore their federal pacts anew—an institution Rappard studies under its German name, Beschwörung und Erneuerung der Bünde, from Rudolf Brun's Zurich charter of 1351 to its extinction in 1798. Born of one magistrate's fear of his enemies, the periodic public oath spread through the perpetual alliances and the Covenant of Stans until it formed part of Swiss public law. Then the Reformation turned a rite of unity into a confessional battlefield: Catholics would swear before God and the saints, the Reformed before God alone, and no formula could reconcile the two. The ceremony returned for a single day at Aarau, on the eve of the old Confederation's collapse—the oath, Rappard argues, being the very cement of the Eidgenossenschaft.

Une fois de plus les saints se dressèrent donc entre les Confédérés, non pour les bénir, mais bien pour les empêcher de renouveler leurs promesses de fidélité mutuelle !

English translation: “Once again the saints thus stood between the Confederates—not to bless them, but rather to prevent them from renewing their pledges of mutual fidelity!”

Putting workers back into familiar jobs is not necessarily the same as creating lasting employment. In this 1944 newspaper article, republished here in 2022, Hayek accepts monetary action against a deflationary spiral but questions expansion that preserves an unsustainable distribution of labour. With postwar adjustment in view, he directs attention to expanding industries whose established employers and workers restrict entry, taking increased demand in higher profits and wages rather than opening opportunities to newcomers. His distinctive claim is that persistent unemployment concerns access and mobility, not merely insufficient spending. The article offers a compact way to examine the tension between immediate relief and durable employment—and to assess Hayek’s warning that postponing adjustment can deepen dependence on state intervention.

The struggle against unemployment is in the last resort the same as the struggle against monopoly.

A history of political thought changes fundamentally when it asks not only who should govern, but what makes a community exist at all. In this 1944 symposium contribution, Eric Voegelin challenges the familiar progression from antiquity through the Middle Ages to modernity, arguing that it obscures both parallel civilizations and the transmissions connecting them. His distinctive concern is with religious and mythical ideas that constitute political communities, rather than merely justify authority within them. Roman sacramental allegiance and the Christian conception of Christ’s mystical body become tests of what counts as political thought. Readers can discover why adding neglected civilizations to an established narrative is not enough: their inclusion requires reconsidering the categories by which political ideas are recognized and interpreted.