The archive.

Written in Geneva in 1938-39 and left unpublished until 1978, this prewar analysis diagnoses the doctrines that made another European war likely. Its subject is not party guilt but collectivism in all its rival costumes, fascism, National Socialism, Bolshevism, socialism, interventionism, militant nationalism, each of which swells the state into an instrument for directing social life in the name of a collective whole. Mises rejects the ordinary map of right and left, traces how a German liberalism built from Western ideas of rights and self-rule was overrun by Prussian militarism, etatism, and protectionism, and argues that National Socialism was the mass-democratic culmination of these currents rather than a primitive relapse into the old Prussian spirit. Nationalism, on his account, is the imperialist by-product of interventionist economics, which turns tariffs, schools, and borders into prizes to be seized.

Staat ist Gewaltanwendung und Bereitschaft, Gewalt anzuwenden.

English translation: “The state is the application of force and the readiness to apply force.”

Responding to accusations of racialism, Hayek insists in this brief 1978 letter to The Times that hostility toward immigrants concerns acculturation rather than ancestry. His concrete test is Vienna: he contrasts its substantial population of Czech descent with riots over newcomers’ Czech schools, then invokes hostility toward differently dressed Jewish refugees from Galicia. These compressed comparisons expose the central tension in his account: does explaining resentment through cultural separation distinguish it adequately from racial prejudice? This annotated 2022 reprint also preserves an editorial note on Nicholas Kaldor’s competing emphasis on unemployment and deflation. The letter offers a sharply bounded encounter with Hayek’s assimilation-centered reasoning—and with the explanatory burden his historical examples leave unresolved.

Acknowledgment is not yet an answer: in this short letter of 21 January 1941, Alfred Schütz confirms receipt of Talcott Parsons’s letter but postpones a substantive response until he has read it carefully and received its promised second part. Presented here in German translation from the 1977 correspondence collection, the note records a modest but concrete moment in their exchange: Schütz’s interest in Parsons’s lengthy communication, his refusal to answer prematurely, and his understanding that completion takes time. Its interest lies not in a theoretical position but in the patient handling of an unfinished conversation.

Two rival traditions, Hayek argues, have long shared a single name. One is British and evolutionary, defining liberty as protection from arbitrary coercion under known general rules; the other Continental and constructivist, rationalist and democratic, bent on remaking society toward collective purposes. Tracing the first from Greek isonomia through Roman private law, the medieval and common-law struggles against personal rule, and the Scottish moral philosophers, he reconstructs liberalism as a discipline of political humility rooted in human ignorance. Its core is equality before the law, not equality of condition; its safeguards are constitutionalism, separation of powers, and a protected private sphere. From this he refuses to divide political from economic freedom, treats social justice as incompatible with general rules, and confines democracy to a method of changing rulers rather than a source of unlimited power.

High and low alike sought liberty by insisting on enlarging the number of rules under which they lived.

A claim that inflation is increasing more slowly need not mean that inflation is falling. In this brief 1978 letter to The Times, presented in an annotated reprint, Friedrich August von Hayek challenges the wording of Prime Minister James Callaghan’s claim of economic improvement. His numerical counterexample separates the inflation rate from the proportional increase in that rate: a smaller percentage increase can accompany much higher inflation. Hayek does not establish what actually happened to prices; he asks whether the language offered as evidence of success proves anything of the kind. The letter offers a compact lesson in reading political statistics, where the decisive question is precisely what is being measured.

Neither a conventional memoir nor a chronicle of events, this intellectual deposition, here in the English translation of the German manuscript Mises drafted in exile in 1940, narrates a life through the doctrines its author believed had wrecked liberal civilization: historicism, etatism, socialism, inflationism, nationalism, positivism. Menger's Principles marks his conversion to economics; the Vienna Privatseminar, with Hayek, Haberler, Machlup, and Morgenstern, becomes his counter-image to institutional decline. He recounts his defensive battles at the Chamber of Commerce against Bolshevism, hyperinflation, and Austrian collapse, claiming only to have delayed catastrophe. Beneath the pessimism runs a methodological insistence that economics judges the fitness of means, not ultimate ends, and that socialism founders on the impossibility of calculation without market prices for the means of production.

I set out to be a reformer, but only became the historian of decline.

Admiration does not erase disagreement in Hayek’s introduction to Ludwig von Mises’s memoirs, presented here in its 2013 English version. Drawing on their association in Vienna, Hayek asks why a thinker he regarded as an exceptional economist and social philosopher remained outside the academic establishment. His recollections make the tension concrete: a private seminar sustained open disagreement, while Mises’s defense of capitalism and undisguised contempt for prevailing economics deepened his professional isolation. Hayek also marks the limits of his allegiance, questioning Mises’s claims for the a priori character of economic theory. The result is a portrait of intellectual influence exercised beyond university chairs—and an account of how ideological hostility, institutional expectations, and personal impatience could obstruct recognition without exhausting the value of the work.

No new supranational money is needed to steady world trade, so Hazlitt answers the industrialist Konosuke Matsushita, whose plea for a single global currency followed the yen-dollar swings and the collapse of the Smithsonian agreement. The world already had such a currency, in all but name, from the 1870s to 1914: the gold standard bound the major currencies not to one another but each to a fixed weight of gold, with no central issuer at all. Instability, Hazlitt insists, springs from divergent national inflation, not shifting balances of payments, and the IMF he brands the problem rather than the cure. His prescription is national responsibility, limit each currency's quantity, allow private gold coinage and certificates, restore 100 percent convertibility, perhaps behind a shared unit, the 'goldgram.'

The truth is that the world once did have a common currency, in everything but name. It had such a currency roughly from the last third of the nineteenth century to 1914. It was known as the gold standard.

Can a policy accommodate prejudice without assigning blame to its victims? In this brief 1978 letter to The Times, republished in 2022, Hayek rejects Bernard Levin’s accusation that he had blamed racialism on those subjected to it, while defending restrictions on the rate of immigration as a means of preventing hostility. His reasoning turns on a claim about the receiving population: people, he argues, adjust slowly to an increase in foreign neighbours, even when differences concern only language and manners. A second reply, to Willi Frischauer, places generational memory against historical criticism of his account of Austria. The letter offers a compact opportunity to examine the tension between Hayek’s denial of victim-blaming and a preventive policy directed at newcomers rather than prejudice itself.

Read as a demand for clarity rather than a refutation of reason, the foundational crises of modern mathematics, Cantorian antinomies, the intuitionist assault on excluded middle, the arithmetization of geometry, become in Kaufmann's hands symptoms of confusions in language and abstraction. Offered here in English translation, the essay grounds logic phenomenologically: language is not a stock of sounds but a system of rules coordinating signs with intended objects, so speaking about language clarifies rather than retreats. Russell's paradox does not topple logic; it shows what follows when predicates, classes, names, and functions are herded into one undifferentiated domain, and type theory is treated as a useful symbolic device short of the real philosophical solution. Number is derived from ordered counting, induction from the completeness of that form, and Brouwer's challenge is met with stricter interpretation rather than a rival logic.

We have emphasized that language is not a system of acoustic complexes and their configurations, but a system of co-ordinating rules between these and thoughts of objects and facts in the world.

What brings an economist back into a debate he has ceased to find worthwhile? In this brief introduction, first published in 1978 and reprinted here in 2022, Hayek identifies the inflation of 1974 as the reason for breaking his withdrawal from monetary-policy discussion. His account connects that personal decision with public interventions that eventually led toward proposals for alternative monetary institutions. Rather than supplying the economic case against Keynesian inflation, the passage explains how the accompanying papers arose and why they belong together. It offers a compact view of Hayek’s sense of intellectual duty, and of the relationship between his immediate response to rising prices and the monetary reforms developed in Denationalisation of Money.

By the summer of 1974, however, the problem of inflation had become so alarming that I felt it to be my duty once again to speak out.

Does liberty depend on how a government is chosen, or on how tightly its powers are limited? In this 1978 letter to The Times, presented in an annotated 2022 reprint, Friedrich August von Hayek answers David Steel’s criticism of Margaret Thatcher by making market choice, rather than electoral choice, indispensable to individual freedom. His pointed comparison between a self-limiting dictatorship and an unlimited democracy exposes the stakes of that distinction. He also separates liberty from distributive justice: desirable social outcomes, he argues, need not be constituents of freedom. The editorial notes supply Steel’s counterexamples of political repression in Chile and poverty that renders choice ineffective. This brief exchange brings into focus a precise disagreement over whether protected choice alone is enough to constitute liberty.