The archive.

A currency can keep payments moving while shifting the cost of what it buys onto those compelled to accept it. In this 1918 article, Alfred Amonn examines that tension through the occupation lei issued in Romania against deposits at the Reichsbank. His distinction between financial backing and purchasing power explains why those deposits neither guaranteed redemption nor prevented inflation. The decisive question is who ultimately pays: under the peace settlement he describes, Romania would assume the note issue, freeing the occupiers’ deposits. Amonn judges the arrangement operationally successful while explicitly identifying its role in economic exploitation. His account lets readers trace how bank deposits, exchange rules and redemption obligations turned an instrument of everyday circulation into a means of transferring occupation costs.

Against the wartime cry that 1914 had rendered economics obsolete, this 1917/18 essay treats the currency crisis as an intensified version of recurrent problems and sets out to salvage what metallists, nominalists, quantity theorists, and Knapp had each seen rightly. Money, for Schumpeter, is a claim-ticket, an Anweisung, on a social product that consists solely of consumption goods; its purchasing power rests neither on metal nor on state decree but on the goods it commands. From a broadened definition of money and a notion of velocity recast as efficiency, he derives the fundamental equation E = M·U, equating the income sum with the price-sum of the social product. Most consequential is his account of bank credit, which creates purchasing power before the goods it finances exist, forcing a kind of saving and driving capitalist development while breeding inflation, booms, and crises.

In der Kreation solchen Geldes liegt das Wesen des modernen Kredits.

English translation: “In the creation of such money lies the essence of modern credit.”

Legal protection did not necessarily give Austria’s wartime salaried employees power over their working conditions. In this 1918 social-policy chronicle, Emil Lederer examines that gap through legislation and the practical resources of employee associations. Bank employees could sustain resistance funds and win salary concessions; technical employees, despite professional standing, faced restricted mobility, unpaid overtime and unilateral changes to contracts. Lederer’s comparison with Germany challenges the assumption that salaried employment necessarily favoured conservative organization: Austria’s less extensive associations could also be more receptive to radical unionism. His account makes concrete the difference between securing an entitlement and possessing the solidarity to enforce it, while showing how demands for minimum salaries brought employees into cooperation with workers’ unions.

With the German Reich facing ruin at the war's end, Somary sets aside whether a capital levy of a fifth or a quarter of national wealth can be justified and asks only how it could actually be carried out. His answer treats emergency taxation as financial engineering: a managed conversion of wealth that avoids forced liquidation, drains inflationary money, and transfers capital to the Reich through verifiable, self-declared valuations. Agricultural land could be taken in kind and resettled on war invalids; a National Ground-Charge Bank would issue Pfandbriefe against priority land charges, a National Securities and Industrial Bank four classes of obligations, and these privately backed instruments, exchanged against war loans, would quietly convert public debt into private claims. He rejects fiscal co-ownership of enterprise, insisting the spheres of state monopoly and private business stay separate lest each corrupt the other.

Soll nicht die Wirtschaft den Staat und der Staat die Wirtschaft korrompieren, so muß das Gebiet des Staatsmonopols und das der Privatunternehmung vorerst getrennt bleiben.

English translation: “If the economy is not to corrupt the state and the state the economy, then the sphere of state monopoly and that of private enterprise must for the time being remain separate.”

War, Pribram argues, did not abolish capitalism but destroyed the self-evidence of liberal economic policy. Written in 1918, the essay follows three movements—prewar liberalism, wartime compulsion, and an uncertain transition—to show how a scale of urgency displaced selection by purchasing power: copper could no longer go to the highest bidder when the army needed it, nor bread be allocated by wealth. Property, profit, and enterprise survive, suspended only as the exigency of the day requires. Yet the deeper thesis is ideological: nationalism, strengthened by war, threatens to replace individualist liberalism with a collective will that binds economic life to the nation imagined as a purposive personality. Austria, a Nationalitätenstaat pulled apart by rival peoples, becomes the limiting case where no unified economic policy can hold.

Der Geist des Nationalbewusstseins fordert von neuem die Unterordnung des Wirtschaftslebens unter einen deutlich vorschwebenden, einheitlichen, höheren Zweck: den Machtzweck der Nation.

English translation: “The spirit of national consciousness demands anew the subordination of economic life to a clearly envisaged, unified, higher purpose: the power-purpose of the nation.”

Does the World War's fiscal wreckage force society beyond the capitalist "tax state"? Schumpeter refuses the easy answer. Against slogans proclaiming capitalism or the state bankrupt, he gives "crisis" a strict sociological sense—not a ruined budget but the immanent collapse of a whole social form—and grounds his reply in what he calls Finanzsoziologie, the reading of budgets as the state stripped of ideology. He reconstructs the modern tax state from the late-medieval crisis of domain finance, where princely appeals to the estates in the name of common necessity first carved out a public sphere, then defines it as the fiscal parasite of bourgeois society, bounded by the need not to destroy the motives it feeds on. His answer to 1918 is a one-time wealth levy that burns inflated paper claims rather than nationalizing production.

Wer ihre Botschaft zu hören versteht, der hört da deutlicher als irgendwo den Donner der Weltgeschichte.

English translation: “Whoever knows how to hear its message hears there, more clearly than anywhere else, the thunder of world history.”

Support for struggling banks need not mean preserving them all. In this brief 1918 account, Karl Schlesinger describes Hungary’s Geldinstituts-Zentrale, a state-backed cooperative founded in 1916 to provide liquidity while also rehabilitating, merging or liquidating weak institutions. His medical vocabulary—“therapeutic” and “preventive”—frames banking policy as both repair and continuing oversight. Especially revealing is the connection between assistance and scrutiny: smaller institutions borrowing from the Zentrale were subject to detailed audits, which Schlesinger expected to become a regular feature of Hungarian banking. Written in anticipation of urgent capital demand after peace, the piece offers a concise view of the institution’s intended public purposes, rather than evidence of its eventual success.

New money reaches military suppliers before it reaches everyone else: this uneven passage through the economy anchors Mises’s account of wartime inflation in Die Quantitätstheorie (1918). He defends the quantity theory without treating it as a mechanical rule linking money and prices in fixed proportions. What matters is how monetary expansion changes purchasing power—and who gains while wages and prices adjust at different speeds. His distinction between demand for cash and demand for loans also challenges the claim that expanding circulation merely accommodates commerce. These arguments give concrete stakes to the krone’s future: stabilizing its depreciated value and restoring its former gold parity require different policies. The article connects an explanation of inflation’s unequal effects with the monetary constraints on postwar currency repair.

Facing the fiscal wreckage of the coming peace, Ettinger attacks the fashionable remedy of a one-time capital levy: assessed at inflated wartime prices, it would mistake paper valuations for real wealth, drain working capital from firms, and drive weaker producers to the wall while the strong absorb them — accelerating the very concentration it claims to fight. Behind the confusion, he argues, lies the veil of the money economy, which hides the war's true shifts in property. His alternative is more discriminating: skim off the 'virtual' wealth that scarcity, inflation, and abnormal demand have created, and carry the transition on a general compulsory loan at four percent. Fiscal justice, on this account, must be bound to monetary analysis and to the survival of the producers on whom reconstruction depends.

Die Begriffsverwirrung entsteht nur aus dem Grunde, weil der Schleier der Geldwirtschaft den Blick für die wahren Verschiebungen im Besitze und die wirklichen Opfer des Krieges trübt.

English translation: “The conceptual confusion arises solely because the veil of the monetary economy clouds one's view of the true shifts in property and the real sacrifices of the war.”

Not an abstract mechanism of labour, capital, and exchange, but a formation shaped by land, climate, water, mineral deposits, borders, and neighbours — that is the national economy as this 1918 essay conceives it. Schwiedland turns each physical condition into an economic form: coastlines invite navigation, mountains isolate and obstruct, alluvial plains concentrate population and cities, poor soils drive emigration. Water is the most expansive medium — rivers that irrigate, carry, and power, canals and isthmian cuts that rewrite routes, the sea that lifts history from river civilizations to Atlantic and Pacific world traffic. Coal and iron ground industrial modernity in subterranean endowment. The racial and climatic idiom demands critical distance, yet the argument is not fatalism: environment sets possibilities and resistances, while labour, breeding, mining, and organization remake nature, so that man becomes a co-creator of the economic world.

Der große Handel und Verkehr ist Seehandel und Seeverkehr und die große Politik erstrebt die Beherrschung der Meere.

English translation: “Great commerce and traffic are maritime commerce and maritime traffic, and great politics aims at the mastery of the seas.”

Written from a spring 1918 lecture and left unrevised through the November collapse it had almost anticipated, this compressed sociology of revolution begins from a paradox: revolution becomes possible only when an old apparatus of power still functions but has lost its inner recognition. Its defining formula is deliberately idealist — revolution is the breakthrough of an idea into reality — yet every genuine one needs two things at once, a universal idea and a social force it can mobilize. Lederer traces how intellectual strata charge ideas with emotion, why revolutionary violence always risks betrayal by terror and dictatorship, and how modern class organization makes the strike and the factory its central forms. Against historians who reduce upheaval to grievance or misgovernment, he insists the struggle is over social principles, and closes by distinguishing revolution, a spiritual turning point, from war.

Zweierlei ist jeder echten Revolution wesentlich: daß sie Idee ist und daß sie eine soziale Kraft mobilisieren kann.

English translation: “Two things are essential to every genuine revolution: that it is an idea, and that it can mobilize a social force.”

Among the handful of books woven into European social history, Schumpeter ranks Marx's Kapital—and this compact 1918 tribute, published in the Graz Arbeiterwille, sets out to explain why. Marx the economist is read as continuing and surpassing Quesnay and Ricardo, fixing on capitalist profit as the load-bearing beam on which the upper class rests; the theory of surplus value is treated not as denunciation but as an attempt to derive exploitation from capitalism's own necessities. Marx the sociologist supplies the greater achievement: an economic interpretation of history that swells into a total theory of all social being. What set him apart, Schumpeter argues, was the further claim that socialism is not merely desirable but an inescapable necessity—a political goal transformed into historical certainty, research fused with will.

Er lehrt nicht bloß Forschungsresultate, sondern zugleich auch eine neue, kommende Kultur.

English translation: “He teaches not merely the results of research but at the same time a new, coming culture.”