The archive.

National Socialism cannot be grasped as mere immorality, propaganda, or institutional power; it is a religious phenomenon, and a satanic force cannot be beaten by ethics and humanity alone. From that 1938 provocation Voegelin builds a morphology of sacred-political symbols reaching back to Echnaton's Aton cult, where a world-god and god-son king bind cosmos and empire. His decisive concept is the Realissimum: whatever is experienced as holy becomes the most real center around which collective life crystallizes. When secularization lets worldly contents — people, race, class, nation — swell until God vanishes behind them, these become innerworldly apocalypses, and the Führer becomes the point at which the sacred substance of the people speaks. Judged from a Christian standpoint, such divinization of collectives is apostasy.

Wo immer ein Wirkliches im religiösen Erlebnis sich als ein Heiliges zu erkennen gibt, wird es zum Allerwirklichsten, zum Realissimum.

English translation: “Wherever a reality reveals itself in religious experience as a sacred one, it becomes the most real of all, the realissimum.”

The vocabulary of freedom, Hayek warns, has been turned inside out — "liberalism" now names the restrictions that collectivists promise will free men from want. Written on the eve of war and anticipating The Road to Serfdom, this Chicago pamphlet argues that comprehensive planning threatens the liberties it claims to enlarge. Its logic is institutional, not conspiratorial: directing all economic life requires agreement on a ranked scale of social ends that plural societies simply lack, so planners must impose values and then manufacture belief in them. Prices, by contrast, combine dispersed knowledge no single mind commands. Because whoever controls the means controls the ends they serve, economic dictatorship cannot stay merely economic — propaganda and the suppression of dissent become essential parts of the system. Only competitive capitalism, he contends, keeps democracy from having to decide everything, and so from destroying itself.

Freedom and liberalism have become terms that are used to describe the exact opposite of their historic meaning.

Every government that gathered at Geneva professed the Cobdenite creed that commerce breeds peace; every government, called to concrete concessions, reached instead for the tariff, the quota, and the bargaining duty. Delivered as the Cobden Lectures at the London School of Economics in February 1938, these three lectures reconstruct two decades of League conferences—Brussels, Genoa, the bold 1927 resolution to halt and reverse the rise of tariffs, the wrecked London gathering of 1933—and ask why they failed. Rappard sorts the protectionist arguments by purpose rather than chronology, weighing infant-industry claims and agrarian defenses, and locates the deepest cause not in ignorance or private greed but in the fear of war, which drove nations toward autarky. From Geneva, he warns, no honest message of optimism can come.

Thus those who could, will not, and those who would, cannot.

Confusion about the calculus, the authors contend, usually springs not from calculus itself but from shaky command of the algebra, geometry, and limits beneath it. Written for beginners rather than as a treatise on mathematical economics, this primer builds from graphing total cost against output toward the ideas an economist must handle to read the published literature: the limit, the derivative, marginal cost and marginal utility as special cases of it, maxima and minima, Lagrange multipliers for constrained cost minimization, Euler's theorem and the exhaustion of product under competition, least-squares regression, and Cramer's rule for market equilibrium. W. L. Crum credits Joseph Schumpeter with the volume's major additions, and the economic example — never abstract rigor for its own sake — governs every step.

The derivative of $y$ with respect to $x$ is the instantaneous rate of change of $y$ with $x$.

Can an economy hoard money even when its total cash holdings remain unchanged? In this reply to R. F. Kahn’s review of Prosperity and Depression, Gottfried Haberler argues that it can: expenditure and income may fall without any reduction in the money stock. This distinction anchors his defence of a monetary account of economic fluctuations against Kahn’s criticisms. Haberler’s distinctive concern is to separate differences of vocabulary from differences of explanation—especially where saving–investment identities threaten to substitute for accounts of how adjustment occurs. His qualified acceptance of public works sharpens the stakes: additional government spending must increase total demand, not merely displace expenditure elsewhere. The reply offers a focused encounter with the contested boundary between monetary circulation, effective demand, and the financing of recovery.

Confident opinion at the turn of the century assumed democracy's advance was as irreversible as the tide; by 1938 Bolshevism, Fascism, and National Socialism had made that assumption look naive. Across six lectures given on the Harris Foundation at Chicago, Rappard defines democracy not by its etymology but by the paired ideals of liberty and equality, then traces its uneven rise from Athens through Britain, France, and his native Switzerland. He reads the three great dictatorships as offspring of the World War—Lenin's from defeat, Mussolini's from disappointed victory, Hitler's from Versailles and slump—and diagnoses the strain within surviving democracies as a crisis of parliamentarism rather than of democracy itself. The remedy he presses is unfashionable: a retreat of the state from economic life, without which self-government becomes an illusion.

Democracy thrives on peace, and dictatorships on war.

The double meaning of the word Volk, Amonn contends, has quietly corrupted the foundations of economics by fusing the pure theoretical categories of the exchange economy with the practical concepts of Volkswirtschaftslehre. This introduction to economic thinking—second edition of 1944, essentially unchanged from the 1938 original—treats concepts frankly as instruments made by thought and defines each by the problem it is meant to solve. Moving from economic goods, scarcity, and Wohlstand through the production factors, prices, money, credit, and comparative costs, he denies that Volkswirtschaft is any real unit like a household, insisting it is only an ideational association of separate economies. Four appendices turn the method against Max Weber, Sombart, Gottl, and Englis, whose definitions he finds either candidly stipulative or objective merely in appearance.

Begriffe sind Denkwerkzeuge.

English translation: “Concepts are tools of thought.”

To analyze business cycles, this first volume of Schumpeter's 1939 study contends, is to analyze the whole economic process of the capitalist era, not some detachable pathology bolted onto an otherwise placid system. Progress itself unstabilizes: innovation, carried out by new firms drawing on bank-created credit, repeatedly knocks the economy away from equilibrium and forces the recessions that absorb it. Weaving theory, statistics, and history, he organizes the record around three superimposed waves, Kondratieff, Juglar, and Kitchin, and reads railroadization as the paradigm of long-gestation innovation. A secondary wave of speculation and debt, engaging Fisher's debt-deflation, explains why some depressions turn abnormal and destructive. The volume closes with dense historical outlines from 1787 to 1913 across England, Germany, and the United States, following cotton, steam, steel, and electrification.

Revival is the last and not the first phase of a cycle.

Where the theory was built, this second volume turns to the evidence — prices, output, employment, commodity markets, deposits, loans, and interest — reading every series as the trace of an evolutionary mechanism rather than a barometer that speaks for itself. Schumpeter's method is deliberately anti-barometric: no single index reveals the cycle's true shape, and the Kondratieff–Juglar–Kitchin schema must be used historically, never mechanically. The financial chapters refuse to crown interest as the master cause: it saturates capitalist calculation yet is fundamentally consequential, causal only in a secondary sense, and entrepreneurial demand for credit moves rates before rates move anything. He dissolves the rigid money-market/capital-market divide, denies any secular law of declining interest, and rejects the Hayek–Mises–Hawtrey claim that bank-initiated cheap money originates the cycle.

In this sense interest may indeed be said to hold a central position in the system.

A federation of formerly sovereign states can secure peace, this German-language essay argues, only as an economic union — yet that union disables much of the nation-state's interventionist repertoire and cannot simply hand it to a federal center. Free movement of goods, labor, and capital turns the federation into a single price area, stripping member states of tariffs, monopolies, and independent monetary policy. But protectionism cannot migrate upward either: the solidarities that sell a tariff as aid to "our" producers dissolve among peoples who share no thick common identity, and the same thinness defeats central planning, which presupposes agreement no diverse union possesses. The federation needs only a negative power — to stop states from rebuilding economic borders, not to plan in their place. Federalism, Hayek concludes, completes liberalism rather than enlarging the state.

Das Bundesgebiet wird ein einziger Markt und die Preise in seinen Teilen werden nur um den Betrag der Transportkosten differieren.

English translation: “The federal territory becomes a single market, and prices in its parts will differ only by the amount of transport costs.”

Remembered by his contemporaries as a banker, abolitionist, and Evangelical of the Clapham circle rather than as an economist, Henry Thornton is here restored by Hayek to the front rank of monetary thought. The introduction to Thornton's Paper Credit of Great Britain reads the 1802 treatise as the point where classical monetary analysis begins, born of the crises of 1793 and 1797 and the Bank Restriction. Hayek credits Thornton with distinguishing internal from external drains, anticipating both liquidity preference and Wicksell's separation of the market and natural rates of interest, and framing the doctrine of forced saving. Against the reduction of everything to over-issue, and against Ricardo's later narrowing, the case is made for a disciplined practical banker who theorized the credit system from within.

“We are all City people and connected with merchants, and nothing but merchants on every side”

Germany's colonies, stripped away at Versailles and held under mandate, are the immediate provocation of this 1939 study, which recasts their loss as economic strangulation rather than wounded vanity. Yet Thurnwald's ambition is systematic: colonization as a recurring human phenomenon, older than capitalism, whose methods he compares across Portuguese slave-raiding, the Spanish encomienda among the Maya of Yucatán, the Dutch cultivation system in Java, the French Code noir and St. Domingue, and British expansion from Virginia to the Gezira cotton scheme. His own Deutsch-Neu-Guinea supplies the opening case, from Rabaul's plantations to goldfields opened by aircraft. He rejects a purely Marxist reading of empire, frames expansion as a biological and social movement of peoples, and ties its future to National Socialist colonial policy.

Kolonisation gehört zu den großen bewegenden und Geschichte schaffenden Kräften der menschlichen Gemeinschaften aller Völker und Zeiten.

English translation: “Colonization belongs among the great moving and history-making forces of human communities in all peoples and ages.”