The archive.

Can public supervision restrain international cartels, or does it protect them from the competition that might otherwise undermine them? In this published lecture, reprinted in 1946, Fritz Machlup examines how territorial divisions, patent licenses, and output quotas restrict trade without necessarily taking the form of explicit price-fixing agreements. His criticism separates economic harm from personal wrongdoing: a former participant in an Austrian paperboard cartel’s council, he acknowledges that cartelists may sincerely believe they serve the public. The sharper question is what their arrangements do. Readers can discover why stable prices may mean unstable employment, why capacity quotas can encourage further expansion, and why registration or official oversight may legitimize restrictions rather than remove them.

Government control sanctifies the cartel.

Can Kelsen’s account of legal science survive without a fundamental divide between Is and Ought? In this brief review of William Ebenstein’s The Pure Theory of Law, Felix Kaufmann praises an exposition that connects Kelsen’s questions with those of British and American jurists, while challenging a premise Ebenstein accepts. The point of disagreement is concrete: what makes statutes, judicial decisions and executive orders parts of one legal order? Where Kelsen treats the “basic norm” as a fundamental hypothesis, Kaufmann proposes understanding it as a definition of that order’s unity. His review offers a compact encounter with a sympathetic critic who seeks to preserve Kelsen’s methodological achievements while revising their philosophical basis.

The economic problem of society, on Hayek's recasting, is not how a single mind might allocate resources it already knows, but how to make use of knowledge that no one possesses in full—dispersed, local, changing, and often tacit. Planning is not the issue, since every actor plans; the question is whether planning is centralized in one authority or divided among the many who hold knowledge of the particular circumstances of time and place. The price system is his answer: prices condense relative scarcities into signals that let people economize and substitute without grasping the underlying cause, as when a distant shortage of tin quietly prompts users everywhere to conserve it. Markets thus figure as epistemic institutions, a species of spontaneous order alongside language and law, and the socialist calculation debate turns on the impossibility of gathering that knowledge in one directing mind.

Or, to put it briefly, it is a problem of the utilization of knowledge which is not given to anyone in its totality.

An unfinished investment changes the value of the funds needed to complete it. In this 1945 article, Hayek uses that dependence to reconsider his earlier emphasis on productivity rather than time preference in explaining investment returns. The crucial distinction is between steady capital accumulation and a capital structure built on expectations of further financing that fail. When saving falls short, existing projects create an urgent demand for completion funds; the economy cannot simply retrace the path it took during expansion. Readers can discover why Hayek preserves his productivity-centred account for uninterrupted growth while allowing time preference a decisive role when expected investment is withheld—and how this distinction offers a possible explanation of sharp interest-rate increases without attributing them exclusively to monetary disturbances.

Does a restraint on competition become less harmful when governments rather than private firms administer it? In this 1946 conference discussion, Fritz Machlup tests proposed international trade rules against the interests of consumers, whose dispersed losses attract less political attention than producers’ concentrated gains. His example of Bolivian tin makes the stakes concrete: maintaining high prices to preserve inefficient operations can conceal a consumer tax more costly than explicit assistance to displaced workers. He applies a related test to patent licensing, arguing that access to industrial knowledge need not require accepting restrictions on output, sales, or exports. The contribution offers a sharp distinction between helping industries adjust and protecting them from adjustment—and explains why Machlup favors compulsory licensing over either restrictive technology transfers or ineffective prohibitions.

In my judgment, people should know when they are taxed and for what purposes.

Dispersed ownership may explain why salaried managers gain power, but it does not identify who actually exercises entrepreneurial judgement. This distinction anchors Ludwig Lachmann’s 1946 review of Robert Aaron Gordon’s Business Leadership in the Large Corporation. Welcoming Gordon’s evidence from American corporations, Lachmann presses him on the boundaries between initiating decisions, approving them, and coordinating an organisation. The return of commanding individuals during corporate crises complicates any simple account of entrepreneurship dissolving into managerial routines. His praise also stops short of endorsing Gordon’s proposed governmental approval of directors: a pointed reference to Nazi German company legislation challenges that remedy. This compact review distinguishes the economic explanation of managerial authority from the unresolved problem of controlling it.

"Separation of ownership and management" tells us nothing about the location of the entrepreneurial function within the managerial hierarchy.

What happens to historical evidence when the political lesson is fixed in advance? In this short review of Gerhart Eisler, Albert Norden, and Albert Schreiner’s The Lesson of Germany, Eric Voegelin challenges an account that, in his judgement, casts progressives and reactionaries as agents of good and evil and makes Communist rule the prescribed answer to Germany’s catastrophes. His criticism turns on concrete scholarly practices: excluding rival historians, selecting facts to fit doctrine, and withholding exact references. He nevertheless concedes that partisan hostility can uncover revealing details of Pan-German imperial ambitions. That concession sharpens the review’s distinction between finding useful material and producing responsible history: even an illuminating example loses value when readers cannot verify it.

A mathematics textbook can be stronger in coverage yet less suitable for its students. This distinction shapes Gerhard Tintner’s review of W. L. Crum and Joseph A. Schumpeter’s Rudimentary Mathematics for Economists and Statisticians. He welcomes calculus taught through costs, demand and utility rather than classical mechanics, but questions whether compression helps beginners when differentiation rules appear without proof. His objection is concrete: introducing the binomial theorem could clarify differentiation while also serving students of probability, whose needs he finds neglected. The review offers a compact example of judging a textbook by more than mathematical breadth: Tintner weighs explanatory clarity, disciplinary relevance and prior preparation, ultimately favouring its teaching suitability over the fuller coverage of competing introductions.

Expert agreement on postwar economic cooperation did not guarantee that governments would make it possible. This gap shapes Gottfried Haberler’s 1946 review of the conference addresses collected by Arnold J. Zurcher and Richmond Page. Appreciative of the volume’s quality, Haberler tests its proposals against political constraints and uneven economic adjustment. Should aid be withheld if outright gifts cannot win approval? Can aggregate spending resolve unemployment in depressed regions? His sharpest qualifications concern cartel restrictions sustained by tariffs and optimistic accounts of Britain’s economic prospects. This compact review offers a concrete example of Haberler’s critical method: distinguish desirable principles from feasible policies, and welcome challenges to prevailing opinion without accepting assertions in place of supporting argument.

Refuting Nazi doctrine is not the same as explaining its appeal. In this short review of Albert R. Chandler’s Rosenberg’s Nazi Myth, Eric Voegelin argues that exposing racial fallacies and distortions of Christianity leaves the central interpretive problem untouched: how a text intended to evoke a myth acquires religious and social force. He asks instead about the rise of “intramundane religiousness” and the Christian churches’ apparent helplessness before it. While crediting Chandler with useful introductory information and references, Voegelin challenges the adequacy of moral reassurance as an explanation. The review offers a sharply bounded distinction between demonstrating an ideology’s errors and understanding the power it seeks to exercise.

Military withdrawal might leave Austria independent in name yet dependent in practice. Writing after an extended visit to Vienna in 1946, Hayek examines how occupation charges, distorted prices, industrial confiscations and blocked trade frustrate reconstruction—and turn material scarcity into political vulnerability. His diagnosis rejects the claim that Austrians simply lack initiative: productive effort cannot restore prosperity when the conditions of production work against it. The article also shows Hayek advocating transitional foreign credit and economic advice, rather than expecting private investment to overcome political insecurity unaided. Its central tension is concrete: occupation must end, but outside assistance must continue if sovereignty is to acquire an economic foundation. Readers encounter an argument that connects Austrian recovery with the struggle over who will control its industries and supplies.

Capitalism’s productive success need not secure its survival. In this 1946 Encyclopaedia Britannica contribution, Joseph A. Schumpeter locates that tension in the changing role of the entrepreneur: innovation drives growth, yet corporate organization can replace individual initiative with bureaucratic routine. His account makes bank credit and new production methods central, challenging assessments of competition that assume firms use identical technologies. It also distinguishes the economic case for capitalism from moral approval of it—and both from predictions about its future. Readers can discover why Schumpeter defends the productive possibilities of large enterprises while anticipating an erosion of private business leadership: the institutions that sustain capitalism may be weakened not by economic exhaustion, but by the social consequences of its achievements.