2,793 works, 150 years of economic thought. Each one summarized and searchable, with cited passages inside.
Five lectures, delivered to Innsbruck workers in 1946, confront a ruined economy and ask whether Austria can be saved at all. Bayer's answer refuses fatalism: smallness did not doom the First Republic and need not doom the Second—Switzerland shows a small economy can prosper—but recovery must be planned, coordinating production, exports, credit, investment, and income rather than trusting automatic markets or monetary tricks. The lectures range across money and credit, the wage-price-currency tangle, social policy through unions and cooperatives, and socialization, defended here against Hayek's fear that planning must lead to serfdom. Real wages, Bayer insists, depend on the social product and not on nominal claims; money stays a servant, never wealth. Above all, the policy errors of 1918 to 1938 must not be repeated.
Sozialisierung ist mehr als die Summe einzelner Maßnahmen zur Verstaatlichung der Produktionsmittel, sie ist aber auch nicht, wie es manchmal dargestellt wird, gleichbedeutend mit der Durchsetzung einer sozialistischen Planwirtschaft mit völliger Aufhebung der Funktion von Geld und Markt.
English translation: “Socialization is more than the sum of individual measures for the nationalization of the means of production; nor is it, however, as it is sometimes portrayed, equivalent to the imposition of a socialist planned economy with the complete abolition of the functions of money and the market.”
The 'execution' of the 1856 Paris treaty, Engel-Janosi argues, was precisely the process by which the post-Crimean order came apart. Following the Eastern Question from that settlement to the Franco-Sardinian war of 1859, the essay makes Cavour's schemes over Moldavia and Wallachia inseparable from his Italian designs, with Napoleon III—hostile to a merely preserved Ottoman Empire, drawn to Balkan nationality, never wholly clear in plan—as its hinge. The Constantinople chapters read as a prosopography of policy: Stratford de Redcliffe's anti-Russian reformism, Prokesch-Osten's defence of Ottoman individuality, Thouvenel executing a French line he privately distrusted. The manipulated Romanian elections of 1857 and Cuza's double election bind Ottoman decline, Romanian unification, and Italian nationalism into a single crisis of legitimacy—inherited legality hammered by a ruthless new politics.
Wenn dies, wie wir allen Grund haben zu hoffen, das Ende der Welt sein soll, wird alles irgendwie geregelt werden. Wenn dies jedoch nicht das Ende der Welt ist, wird alles noch viel schlechter werden.
English translation: “If this, as we have every reason to hope, is to be the end of the world, then somehow everything will be settled. But if this is not the end of the world, then everything will become much worse.”
Higher wage rates need not mean higher earnings for workers as a whole: employment, prices, and bargaining power can pull in different directions. In this 1947 lecture, Alfred Amonn asks what wage policy can accomplish once those differences are taken seriously. He challenges the assumption that competition automatically secures productivity gains for labour, emphasizing workers’ limited ability to wait, move, or obtain information. Yet he also argues that wage increases can cost jobs—a constraint collective bargaining cannot abolish. His distinctive emphasis falls on changing the conditions of wage determination through labour protection, organization, and informed state mediation rather than simply fixing rates. The lecture offers a concrete way to examine whose income a wage measure protects, and whether a nominal gain represents greater purchasing power.
Do scientists really inhabit an ivory tower, indifferent to a world their theories now visibly reshape? Kaufmann takes the postwar reproach seriously, made newly awkward by the political engagement of atomic physicists, and sorts it into four charges: impractical topics, excessive abstraction, inaccessible prose, and refusal to judge values. Practical value, he answers, is often indirect: Maxwell's electromagnetism and Einstein's mass-energy formula were merely theoretical before they proved decisive. Abstraction he splits into generalization, idealization, and mediate construction, defending each while insisting on the return to concrete phenomena. On Weber's ethical neutrality he grants that science cannot fix ultimate values, yet argues that value judgments are elliptical only until their standards are named. The essay's closing defense is of veracity itself, the philosopher's task of keeping disagreement clear and discussable, even at the cost of the tower.
To foster the spirit of veracity is the foremost educational task of the philosopher. Should the fulfilment of this task relegate him to the ivory tower, then he need not be ashamed of his abode.
In April 1947, with liberalism discredited by war, nationalism, and totalitarianism and its scholars scattered and out of contact, Hayek opened the founding conference at Mont Pèlerin with a plea for reconstruction over nostalgia. Reviving the liberal ideal, he insists, demands a great intellectual task, not fidelity to an inherited creed—least of all from the old liberal who clings to formulas because they are old. Political philosophy cannot rest on economics alone; the crisis of freedom is equally legal, moral, historical, and religious, and the proposed agenda ranges across the rule of law, competitive order, liberalism's relation to Christianity, Germany's future, and European federation. He conceives the gathering not as a propaganda machine but as a closed learned society, its members admitted by election and bound to candid mutual criticism.
The old liberal who adheres to a traditional creed merely out of tradition, however admirable his views, is not of much use for our purpose.
When Richard Lester marshalled questionnaire evidence to argue that businessmen do not think at the margin, Machlup answered with this compact 1947 reply, reprinted here, that concedes almost nothing. Lester’s executives said employment depends chiefly on sales and orders; Machlup responds that sales expectations were always part of marginal productivity reasoning, not an antimarginalist discovery. He works through Lester’s six conclusions on wage rates, variable costs, factor substitution, and multiprocess plants, insisting that marginal analysis never required rising unit costs and that firms can reckon in incremental rather than average terms. His deeper charge is that Lester mistakes the proximate vocabulary of managers — orders, morale, sales effort — for a refutation of the causal structure economists actually analyze.
Incremental costs and revenues can be known without any knowledge of average costs and revenues; the reverse is not true.
When defeated Austria's socialists revived their demand for socialization in 1947, Bayer insisted the slogan meant nothing unless productive means were lifted from private hands and bound into one national economic plan. Isolated, firm-by-firm nationalization he dismissed as primitive and doomed, recalling the failed German and Austrian experiments after 1918. The argument then plunges into the socialist calculation debate: he rehearses Mises's claim that without a capital-goods market prices cannot rank higher-order goods, weighs Barone, Lange, and Taylor on trial-and-error pricing, and answers Hayek's Road to Serfdom charge that planning breeds arbitrary coercion. Crucially, he enlists Austrian marginal-utility theory as valid for any economy, socialist ones included, to conclude that a price-guided planned order is both theoretically and practically possible.
Der Ordnung der Wirtschaft kann nur zugrunde liegen, entweder das Prinzip der Selbstregulierung oder der bewußten volkswirtschaftlichen Entscheidung.
English translation: “The ordering of the economy can rest only on one of two principles: that of self-regulation, or that of conscious economic decision.”
Historical outcomes, Schumpeter insists, are never explained by naming conditions such as population, capital, or tariffs, since the same factor acts differently through the mechanisms by which an economy answers it. His governing distinction separates the adaptive response, adjustment within existing practice, from the creative response, action outside that range that reshapes the path irreversibly. The agent is the entrepreneur, defined by function rather than social station: not necessarily capitalist, owner, or inventor, but whoever gets a new thing done. Through the example of producing caviar from sawdust he isolates entrepreneurial profit as a temporary surplus erased by imitation, and argues that innovation destroys old capital rather than reallocating it smoothly. A closing inquiry, whether routine, research teams, and bureaucracy will dissolve the entrepreneurial function as capitalism matures, turns the analysis toward the durability of bourgeois civilization itself.
The competition of the man with a significantly lower cost curve is, in fact, the really effective competition that in the end revolutionizes the industry.
Once the Exchequer acquires a duty to stabilize aggregate demand, the old arithmetic of matching revenue to authorized expenditure no longer suffices. Written in 1947 in the wake of Keynes, this essay treats every fiscal stream as a force acting on monetary demand relative to the supply of goods, and builds a pair of indices—deflative P and inflative Q—to measure the initial thrust of a specified receipt or disbursement before secondary reactions unfold. Shackle's taxonomy of pensioners, policemen, postmen, palace-builders, and paper-makers shows why a payment that adds no saleable output pushes prices up while a purchase for resale may prove deflative. A tax label alone, he insists, never fixes the direction of pressure; only the composition of spending does.
The Exchequer, in deciding the size, method and timing of its levies and disbursements, must nowadays be guided by two quite distinct sets of considerations.
Ten years after The General Theory appeared — and in the year of Keynes's death — Haberler set out to weigh the book as a scientific system rather than an object of discipleship, a verdict he revisits sixteen years on without softening it. He grants Keynes the systematic use of income effects, the multiplier, and a transformed vocabulary of macroeconomic model-building, but denies any overturning of monetary and cycle theory's logical foundations. The demonstration of a static competitive underemployment equilibrium, he argues, rests entirely on money-wage rigidity; admit flexible wages and the Keynes and Pigou effects erode it. Say's Law, properly stated, had already been abandoned by serious neoclassical theorists. Praise without idolatry is the essay's discipline.
Hero worship is nowhere less appropriate than in science.
Provisional notes rather than a finished theory, this essay asks how economists and historians should define, measure, and explain long-run change without turning theory into metaphysics. For Schumpeter theory is only an empirical toolbox: growth itself has no all-purpose measure, and he adopts the rise of trend per capita output merely as a working definition. His three theses cut against reductionism, that growth cannot be isolated from politics, institutions, and habit, that no single factor explains it, and that it interacts reciprocally with its supposed causes, while he rejects Marxist determinism outright. Naming a factor like war or the sixteenth-century Spanish precious-metal inflation is worthless, he argues, until its mechanism is specified. Against the automatism of the Smith-Mill-Marshall tradition he sets the creative response and entrepreneurship, the recombination of resources that no prior condition can predict.
Economic growth is not an autonomous phenomenon, that is to say, it is not a phenomenon that can be satisfactorily analyzed in purely economic terms alone.
Scare quotes do deliberate work in this programmatic restatement of liberalism: the pretended defenders of 'free enterprise' are often, Hayek charges, defenders of tariffs, cartels, and privilege who fear real rivalry as much as any socialist. A genuine competitive order, he insists, is no natural growth that appears wherever the state withdraws; it depends on law—property rules, contract, monetary stability, limits on coercive private power—deliberately built to keep rivalry effective. From this juridical liberalism he attacks the mechanical extension of property to patents and trademarks as a manufacture of monopoly, criticizes steep progressive taxation for eroding the social mobility and independent means that sustain free opinion, and refuses to demand discipline of trade unions before employers have surrendered their own protections. The long-run battle, he argues, is over beliefs, not present political feasibility.
The purpose of a competitive order is to make competition work; that of so-called “ordered competition,” almost always to restrict the effectiveness of competition.