The archive.

A law enacted by proper constitutional procedures is not necessarily a general rule applying to unknown people and unforeseen circumstances. This distinction gives Hayek’s brief 1944 review of John H. Hallowell’s study its interest beyond the verdict on the book. Hallowell addresses liberalism’s decline in German politico-legal thought; Hayek questions whether his historical evidence and legal vocabulary can explain it. He accepts the importance of studying the transformation of the Rechtsstaat but criticizes reliance on secondary sources and ambiguities in “positivism” and “formal” law. The review offers a concentrated encounter with Hayek’s standards for intellectual history—and with the difference between lawful enactment and the character of the rules enacted.

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.

A history of economic theory is not the same undertaking as a history of the ideals governing economic policy. This distinction sharpens Hayek’s brief 1944 review of J. F. Normano’s The Spirit of American Economics and A. R. M. Lower’s Canadian supplement. Against Normano’s search for a distinctively American spirit, Hayek points to the neglect of theoretical achievement, exemplified by the cursory treatment of F. W. Taussig. Yet he also asks more of policy history: political and economic circumstances, rather than labels assigning doctrines to nations or classes. His criticism of Lower’s exclusion of living economists reinforces the question of what such a history should explain. The review offers a compact encounter with Hayek’s standards for judging histories of economic thought.

Can phenomenology’s method be separated from the metaphysical ambitions that helped produce it? In this 1944 review of Marvin Farber’s The Foundation of Phenomenology, Eric Voegelin praises a lucid exposition of Husserl while questioning the terms on which his philosophy is made acceptable to American readers. He agrees that phenomenological reflection offers a lasting methodological achievement, but resists treating metaphysics itself as the defect in Husserl’s later thought. Recalling the Christian meditative roots of Cartesian reduction, Voegelin distinguishes criticism of faulty metaphysics from rejection of metaphysical inquiry. This short review lets readers examine a precise disagreement: whether extracting a usable philosophical technique also risks discarding the unrest that sustained its discoveries.

Economic self-sufficiency promised security to the Danubian successor states; in Richard Schüller’s reading of Antonín Basch, it instead weakened their markets and exposed them to German pressure. This 1944 review is especially revealing where approval becomes correction: Schüller calls Basch’s criticism of Czechoslovak protectionism too mild, pointing out that a country dependent on regional export markets was restricting imports from its own customers. He values Basch’s practical knowledge while testing his proposals for postwar reconstruction against the costs of agricultural protection, the limits of administrative control, and the prospects for modest cooperation rather than federation. The closing comment on Western and Russian influence adds a pointed wartime qualification: economic plans cannot be separated from the political power under which they must operate.

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!”

Admiration for Husserl’s logical analyses need not entail acceptance of transcendental phenomenology’s strongest claims. This tension animates Alfred Schütz’s 1944 review of Marvin Farber’s The Foundation of Phenomenology, reprinted here in 1996. Having checked Farber’s exposition of the Logical Investigations paragraph by paragraph against the German, Schütz praises its precision and accessibility while distinguishing Husserl’s achievements in logic from Farber’s objections to his later philosophy. The review offers a compact account of why logical validity cannot be reduced to psychological events, but its particular interest lies in Schütz’s critical balance: fidelity to Husserl demands close textual attention, not immunity from criticism. Farber’s challenges to claims of absolute knowledge, especially as articulated by Eugen Fink, become questions that phenomenologists must answer rather than dismiss.

Does the power of bankers mark a new stage of capitalism, or does it arise when industry faces problems its own managers cannot solve? In this 1944 article, Ludwig Lachmann tests the finance-capitalism thesis against contrasting British, German, and American experience. His decisive distinction is between financial influence—lending, underwriting, or holding legal rights—and entrepreneurship: actively planning and carrying out economic change. He argues that financiers sometimes assume this role by reorganising industries or reconstructing failed enterprises, rather than inevitably taking command as capitalism matures. The article offers a concrete way to distinguish control over securities from initiative in production, while showing how investment opportunities can be created through the recombination of existing productive assets.

Investment opportunities are never simply "there"; they are the result of human action, the outcome of a process in which will-power and intensity of effort play a most prominent part.

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.

Britain’s anticipated postwar payments gap posed a practical choice: restrict imports or enlarge the trade that could pay for them. In this 1944 article, Richard Schüller challenges proposals from the Federation of British Industries and the Economist for exchange controls, quotas, and a preferential sterling bloc. His objection turns on how these instruments work: allocating scarce dollars, licensing imports, and preserving historical trading shares could obstruct the export expansion they were meant to support. Yet his alternative is not simply unrestricted world trade. Alongside commercial treaties and imperial preference, he proposes reciprocal free trade with Denmark, Norway, Holland, and Belgium, without common external tariffs or political institutions. The article offers a concrete distinction between regional cooperation built around restrictions and cooperation that makes freer exchange the rule.

Exchange control and quotas tend to restore the balance of payments by shortening the long leg, not by lengthening the short.

Punishing Hungary after an Axis defeat would not, Richard Schüller argues, resolve the grievances that had helped bind it to Germany. Written in 1944, this article distinguishes Magyar communities separated by the Treaty of Trianon from the Hungarian elite’s ambition to recover territories inhabited by other nationalities. Schüller brings trade into the frontier question: Hungary’s agricultural dependence on neighboring markets made political antagonism economically damaging, while German purchasing arrangements exchanged recovery for dependence. His proposed ethnic borders encounter their own difficulties, especially where Magyar settlements are geographically detached. The article offers a concrete wartime attempt to reconcile minority claims, economic cooperation, and democratic reform—and shows how much that settlement depended on Schüller’s expectation that defeat would weaken Hungary’s landed oligarchy.

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.