The archive.

Every person acts on a philosophy, whether he can name it or not—and the reigning philosophy of the age, Mises contends in this 1952 lecture, is essentially Marxist, even among those who loudly reject Marx. The argument dismantles materialism in its several guises: the mechanistic view that treats man as a machine (La Mettrie, the newborn likened to a Ford car), the physiological reduction of thought to secretion, and the historical materialism that makes tools the engine of history. Against all of these Mises insists that tools are products of ideas, not their cause, and that Marx's theory of ideology—doctrines as mere expressions of class interest—destroys the notion of truth it depends on. Tracing Marx back to Hegel's teleology, he warns that once socialism is cast as history's destination, dissent is condemned in advance.

A machine doesn't achieve anything, doesn't do anything alone—it is always men or a number of men who achieve something by means of the machine.

Interest is not a fee charged for the use of money, but the market expression of a universal fact: present goods are valued above future goods. From this rooting of interest in time preference, Mises builds a theory of the trade cycle in which depressions trace not to capitalism's inner laws but to bank credit expansion. New credit lowers the market rate below what real saving would set, luring entrepreneurs into projects that falsified calculation makes look profitable; the boom is malinvestment, and the crisis merely discloses the scarcity that was there all along. His house-building analogy — foundations laid for a structure the available materials cannot complete — fixes the point. Credit expansion, he adds, lets governments spend without openly taxing, which is why sound money is finally a matter of limiting political power.

Credit expansion is fundamentally really a problem of civil rights.

Georges Sorel, alone among the thinkers who absorbed Marx, added something genuinely new: a cult of action, sabotage, the general strike, and political myth that would echo through Lenin, Mussolini, and Hitler alike. From that observation these lectures range across the fault lines Marx left unexamined - above all the principle of nationality, which Marx dismissed because he expected capitalism to dissolve national peculiarities before socialism arrived. Mises shows why free-trade optimism about the obsolescence of war, shared by Wilson and Norman Angell, collapses in an interventionist world of tariffs, embargoes, and raw-material controls. He follows the shifting vocabulary of socialism and communism from the 1830s through Lenin and Stalin, and reads the First and Second Internationals as bureaucracies that preached peace while ignoring the trade and migration barriers that actually make nations fight.

Lenin, Mussolini, and Hitler were all influenced by Sorel, by the idea of action, by the idea not to talk but to kill.

Profit and loss are signals before they are rewards: in a market economy they reveal what consumers most urgently want and pull capital toward the uses that serve them best. Working from that premise, Mises separates the physical capital goods inherited from the past - often specific, obsolete, or badly located - from the accounting abstraction of capital, and shows why technocratic schemes to scrap old methods for newer ones squander real wealth. Private property, on his account, is a social function, retained only by serving customers cheaply and well, and wholly unlike feudal ownership rooted in conquest and privilege. Taxation and interference, he warns, sap consumer sovereignty by starving new firms of the capital they need to grow. The essay closes by contrasting profit-and-loss management with the bureaucratic kind proper only to policing and other nonmarket services.

But capitalism is not dying; people are murdering it.

No civilization rises without saving - the patient accumulation of capital and the monetary calculation that lets a society know whether it is preserving its stock or consuming it. That is the thread Mises follows here, distinguishing the physical capital goods of production from the accounting concept of capital, and insisting that profit, income, and capital maintenance have meaning only inside a price system. Socialism, denied market prices, cannot make the reckoning at all. He turns his fire on the income-tax laws, inflation, and social-security schemes that quietly erode capital formation, and on the anti-saving and Keynesian doctrines that treat thrift as a danger and dread technological unemployment. More capital, he answers, means higher labor productivity and higher wages - the true engine by which the lives of ordinary workers were transformed.

If the children used up the nets and fish produced by their parents, capital accumulation would have had to start all over again.

When construction workers marched in 1970 chanting "God Bless the Establishment," the American Right had inverted its own origins. Part history, part memoir, this account traces how the Old Right, the anti-New Deal and anti-interventionist coalition of Mencken, Nock, Garet Garrett, John T. Flynn, and Robert Taft, was captured within the form after National Review's 1955 rise, which kept conservative rhetoric while swapping anti-statism for Cold War militarism. Rothbard follows his own path from minarchism to anarchism, from Republican politics through Cold War revisionism to an improbable alliance with the New Left against Vietnam and conscription. Garrett's warning that the country had crossed from Republic to Empire anchors his lament for a lost antiwar, anti-Establishment tradition.

The Old Right was staunchly opposed to Big Government and the New Deal at home and abroad: that is, to both facets of the welfare-warfare state.

How could a book dismissed as the last gasp of Austrian economics become a source of its renewal? In this historical essay, first published in 2009 and republished here in 2016, Israel M. Kirzner interprets Mises’s Human Action as a break with mainstream accounts of markets, not merely a defense of inherited doctrine. His focus is the socialist calculation debate: reproducing the conditions of equilibrium, he argues, does not explain how entrepreneurs discover the knowledge and opportunities needed for coordination. Kirzner links this theoretical distinction to the treatise’s long neglect and later influence. The essay offers a concrete way to understand why economists could appear to agree on basic principles yet disagree fundamentally about what makes markets work.

Is opposition to totalitarianism enough to unite a movement for liberty? In this brief memorandum of December 31, 1946, first published in 2009, Ludwig von Mises challenges the intellectual basis of Hayek’s proposed association, which became the Mont Pèlerin Society. For Mises, recruiting defenders of government intervention risks reproducing the weaknesses of earlier liberal movements: freedom requires commitment to the market economy, not merely agreement against dictatorship. His distinctive move is to turn an economic claim—that intervention generates pressures for further controls—into a criterion for intellectual cooperation. The memorandum offers a pointed glimpse of the tension between building a broad coalition and settling its principles before it meets.

How can libertarians build alliances without becoming indistinguishable from their allies? In this confidential July 1961 memorandum to the Volker Fund, republished here in 2010, Murray N. Rothbard borrows Leninist strategic categories to address a very different political objective. He argues that campaigns for partial reforms require an independent intellectual core capable of resisting both doctrinal isolation and opportunistic compromise. His assessments of Leonard Read’s Foundation for Economic Education, scholarly grantmaking, and National Review conservatism make the problem concrete: wider influence may dilute rather than strengthen a movement’s commitments. The memorandum offers a candid view of Rothbard as an institutional strategist, explaining why he preferred sustained collaboration among scholars to publicity or an ever-expanding network of loosely sympathetic conservatives.

A village road poses a concrete problem for Hoppe’s case for total privatization: who may take ownership of a shared route without depriving residents of their established access? In this essay, republished in 2021, he distinguishes common use from compulsory public ownership and argues that private title can preserve inherited rights of way while assigning responsibility for maintenance. His rationale is restitution rather than the efficient sale of state assets: ownership should pass to those with legitimate prior claims or those who financed the property through taxation. The interest lies in the friction between that principle and difficult cases—missing ownership records, buildings erected on expropriated land, and competing taxpayer claims. These cases make explicit what Hoppe’s proposal would protect, whom it would exclude, and why voluntary collective ownership remains compatible with his rejection of public property.

Böhm-Bawerk, asked in 1911 to advise the imperial ministry on economics teaching at the University of Graz, turned an administrative query into a defense of theory itself. Modern economic life, he argues, has grown too broad and too consequential for a single professor: Graz needs two chairs, one cultivating pure theory as the organizing foundation, the other commanding applied fields such as trade policy, banking, money, and agrarian and social policy, with statistics admitted only as a subordinate add-on. The memorandum then becomes a pointed intervention in the afterlife of the Methodenstreit, attacking the retiring Hildebrand's theory-hostile historicism as fanatically one-sided. Among the candidates one stands out above the rest, the young Schumpeter, whose brilliance and productivity, he warns, must not be lost to Austrian scholarship abroad.

Schumpeter ist ein eminent theoretischer Kopf, von glänzender Begabung und enormer Urteilskraft und Produktivität.

English translation: “Schumpeter is an eminently theoretical mind, of brilliant talent and enormous judgment and productivity.”

Reporting on his first semester of seminar exercises at the University of Graz, the young Schumpeter records a paradox familiar to every institution-builder: healthy demand starved of resources. Some fifty participants attended and twenty took on written work, yet the seminar lacked adequate books and even a consultation room. The document's interest lies in its pedagogy. Active practice in economic reasoning, he argues, does far more than passive lecturing to make a student penetrate the subject, useful as an official and guarded against what he calls the radicalism of ignorance. A smaller Proseminar took up economic theory through the selected readings of Diehl and Mombert. Genuine mastery, he concludes, is won through exercise in thinking rather than the compressed exposition of doctrine.

Wirkliches Verständnis und dauernder Gewinn kann nur durch eine solche Einübung erzielt werden; sie beginnen auch in Deutschland üblich zu werden; und der Wunsch der Studierenden danach ist ein bedeutendes Symptom der Bedürfnisse nach gründlicher Ausbildung im ökonomischen Denken.

English translation: “Real understanding and lasting benefit can be achieved only through such practice; it is beginning to become customary in Germany as well; and the students' desire for it is a significant symptom of the need for thorough training in economic thinking.”