The archive.

Borrowing the prestige of physics to study human beings is, for Rothbard, not science but scientism—the uncritical transfer of methods fit for stones to creatures who choose. Reprinted from Scientism and Values, this essay grounds a science of man in the axiom of volition: because people possess consciousness and free will, praxeology, psychology, technology, and ethics are intelligible where mechanistic determinism would render them absurd. Rothbard dismantles two families of false analogy—the mechanical, which reduces persons to servomechanisms, equations, and equilibria, and the organismic, which inflates "society" and "the public" into living wholes with purposes of their own. Against Weberian Wertfreiheit he charges that claimed neutrality often smuggles in majority values, and defends an axiomatic-deductive method over positivist experiment.

Scientism is the profoundly unscientific attempt to transfer uncritically the methodology of the physical sciences to the study of human action.

Can social science be objective without discarding what actions mean to the people performing them? In this essay, Schütz argues that subjective meaning belongs to the evidence social scientists must explain. A question and its anticipated answer show why observable sequences alone cannot account for interaction: participants act through expectations about one another’s purposes. Yet understanding them does not require access to their entire inner lives. Schütz connects everyday reliance on typical motives with the investigator’s construction of ideal types—selective model actors whose conduct must remain intelligible to ordinary people. His distinction between intended outcomes and the past experiences behind a project gives readers a precise way to separate purpose from retrospective explanation, while testing where scientific abstraction clarifies social action and where it loses its subject.

Does spending more on research simply buy more inventions? Machlup's answer is a patient no, or rather, much less than proportionately more. Inventive talent is scarce and its supply inelastic; drawing in extra researchers means paying rents to every incumbent and recruiting steadily less able hands, so marginal costs climb fast. Treating invention as an industry with a production function, he traces diminishing returns as more workers crowd a fixed stock of problems and knowledge, and catalogs ten reasons a swelling flow of raw ideas yields a rising share of rejects. The result is his four shrinkages, each thinning the passage from money spent to inventions actually put to work, a sober correction to any faith that funding alone accelerates technical progress.

These shrinkages are independent of one another; but they may add up with a vengeance.

Can Marx remain a valuable critic of industrial society if his economic theory is rejected? In this polemical 1960 article, Richard Kerschagl grants Marx a limited achievement as an economic historian while challenging the explanatory foundations of Capital. His most revealing distinction separates capital’s contribution to production from the capitalist’s entitlement to income: acknowledging the former, he argues, need not justify the latter. From this standpoint, Kerschagl charges Marx with allowing demands about distribution to govern explanations of value and production. Readers encounter a critique informed by marginal-utility reasoning whose insistence on separating scientific explanation from political commitment sits uneasily beside its openly adversarial rhetoric. The article makes that boundary—and the difficulty of maintaining it—the central stake of reassessing Marx.

A single correlation or average lag can conceal different relationships between short-term fluctuations and long-term movements. In this 1961 Princeton research memorandum, Oskar Morgenstern asks what economists could discover by separating those temporal scales rather than imposing familiar business-cycle classifications. Drawing on communication engineering, he advocates spectral analysis as a way to detect rhythms within aggregate data and examine how series interact at different frequencies. His example of New York money-market rates makes the stakes concrete: longer-term components can show greater lags than shorter-term ones. Yet finer measurement is not economic explanation. Morgenstern’s proposal turns on a demanding tension: longer records improve frequency analysis, but also span institutional and technological changes that may undermine its assumptions. Readers encounter a research program in which statistical discovery challenges theory without claiming to replace it.

Between early 1954 and early 1957 American commercial exports leapt from $11 billion to $21 billion, then fell to $15 billion by 1959, touching off alarm over the balance of payments. This occasional paper brings eight decades of evidence to bear on whether that drop was an ordinary cyclical movement or signaled a deeper loss of competitive power. Mintz declines to forecast or prescribe, using the historical record to place the 1957-59 decline among earlier contractions and judge it unexceptional once the preceding boom is weighed. Measuring exports against world imports, the imports of the world outside the United States, as her gauge of foreign demand, she argues that shifts in foreign demand govern export swings more powerfully than the domestic cycle, while exports came to track U.S. business cycles more closely after 1921 than before.

Most economists share Mitchell’s view—confirmed by our study—that foreign demand is the most important factor in export fluctuations.

Can land reform improve rural welfare while reducing recorded national income? This possibility anchors Walter Froehlich’s preliminary contribution to the 1961 collection Land Tenure, Industrialization and Social Stability: Experience and Prospects in Asia. He questions comparisons that value market transactions more readily than household production, leisure, or security, then brings that criticism to bear on agricultural reform. His preference for viable family farms is conditional: redistribution alone cannot remedy holdings too small to support maintenance and improvement, nor replace opportunities for nonagricultural employment. The chapter’s distinctive interest lies in this connection between measurement and institutional choice. Readers can discover why an apparently technical judgement about economic progress depends on tenancy arrangements, resource pressures, and the social values that reform is intended to sustain.

What happens to marginal-utility calculation if people pursue ends other than their own well-being? In this 1961 editorial introduction, Emil Kauder finds that unresolved question in Carl Menger’s annotated copy of the Grundsätze, preserved at Hitotsubashi University. He reads its unfinished additions as evidence of a phase of Menger’s thinking not adequately represented by the posthumous 1923 edition. His account brings value-free economic theory into contact with Menger’s concern for the moral conditions of economic agency, without turning tentative reflections into a completed system. Kauder also explains how interleaved pages, pasted sheets and nested marginal notes were made readable. The result offers both a less settled picture of Menger’s economics and a concrete account of the editorial decisions on which that picture depends.

Asked what he had done in the Great War, the British economist Edwin Cannan answered simply that he had raised his voice against the folly around him—and for Mises that reply names the political virtue Germany lacked. Reviewing Volkmar Muthesius's Frankfurt monthly Monatsblätter für freiheitliche Wirtschaftspolitik, he argues that the catastrophes of early-twentieth-century Germany followed from interventionism, inflationism, and fiscal mismanagement met with silence rather than dissent. The magazine matters as a rare postwar voice defending free trade, sound money, and balanced budgets while attacking subsidies, union privilege, and antimonopoly demagogy. Written at the height of the Cold War, the review links West Germany's liberal recovery to American resolve over Berlin and to Goldwater-style fiscal conservatism, presenting an independent free-market periodical in the classic land of socialism as itself a remarkable achievement.

The great catastrophes that befell Germany in the first part of our century were the inevitable effect of its political and economic policies.

The salaried employee, caught between the working class and management, is the figure through which Bayer traces a wider mutation in economy and society. Three shifts organize the essay: in macroeconomic aims, now converging on dynamic stabilization; in the functions of the enterprise; and in the roles of those who carry it. He coins Blankobedürfnisse, blank general needs whose concrete content advertising and mass production increasingly supply, to explain the swelling tertiary sector and its white-collar ranks. Concentration, objectification, and long-run corporate planning together yield not a return to free competition but an organized market economy, and an institutionalized firm whose enduring tasks bind everyone in it. The old entrepreneur gives way to the manager, whose growing social power makes managerial ethics and countervailing forces urgent against the ever-present danger of Grenzmoral.

Die Entscheidung für die Freiheit aber bedeutet die Aufgabe geistiger Trägheit; sie verlangt Mut und Selbstverantwortung.

English translation: “The decision in favor of freedom, however, means giving up intellectual inertia; it demands courage and self-responsibility.”

Marx's Communist Manifesto lists ten transitional measures for wresting capital from the bourgeoisie, and Sennholz turns them into a scorecard for the United States of 1961. Point by point—land ownership, progressive income and estate taxes, centralized credit, regulated communications and transport, state production, labor obligations, public education—he argues that America has quietly realized much of the program not through outright nationalization but through control that leaves private title merely nominal. The Federal Reserve, in his reading, has already achieved the Manifesto's fifth plank; confiscatory taxation makes government the controlling partner in every enterprise. What separates America from the Iron Curtain, he concludes, is only surviving markets, constitutional restraints, and due process. A 1961 American Opinion polemic fusing Austrian economics with Cold War anti-communism.

As the second item in the communist program, the Manifesto demands “a heavy progressive or graduated income tax.” In this regard we are probably more communistic than the Russians and Chinese.

Foreign aid, in this MIT report, is a temporary instrument for crossing a threshold, not a permanent redistribution of income. Rosenstein-Rodan judges assistance less by the income it creates per dollar than by the additional domestic effort it elicits, higher marginal savings, bolder planning, stronger administration, arguing that a marginal savings rate well above the average is the main lever of any development program. Absorptive capacity, broadly defined to include skilled labor, entrepreneurship, and public administration, sets the amount a country can use well, while repayment capacity should govern the terms, whether grants, soft loans, or local-currency schemes. He distinguishes aid sharply from ordinary capital flows, proposes burden-sharing among donors on a progressive-income principle that would place the largest share on the United States, and closes with country-by-country projections of capital requirements to 1976.

"Foreign Capital Inflow" and "Aid" are not synonymous terms.