The archive.

What makes a collection of tributes evidence of a teacher’s influence? In this brief 1937 review of the volume honouring F. W. Taussig, Hayek points to its restriction to former students and colleagues—and to the editors’ success in keeping forty-eight contributions concise without sacrificing substance. His praise concerns a scholarly community’s collective achievement rather than particular theoretical positions, which he explicitly declines to adjudicate. Readers encounter Hayek as an appreciative reviewer attentive to editorial discipline and intellectual breadth: he notes that “Wages and Capital” encompasses distribution and monopoly theory, while Taussig’s bibliography records interests wider than younger colleagues may know. The review offers a compact account of how teaching, personal association, and economical exposition can sustain a scholarly legacy.

Making a classic available is not the same as making it reliable to use. In this brief 1937 review, Hayek welcomes the affordable reprint of Jean Baptiste Say’s letters to Malthus while noting what its reproduction of an older English translation preserves—and loses: misprints survive, original pagination disappears, and the French contents and index are absent. His qualified endorsement offers a precise distinction between renewed interest in Say’s Law and the editorial means of studying it. Hayek neither expounds nor defends that law here; he assesses access to its source, also distinguishing the value of Harold Laski’s bibliographical references from his more contestable interpretation of the controversy.

Writing about economic problems before Adam Smith does not, Hayek argues, necessarily make someone his intellectual predecessor. In this brief 1937 review of E. A. J. Johnson’s Predecessors of Adam Smith, he distinguishes influence on public policy debate from contributions to economic theory. Johnson’s attention to mercantilist schemes for increasing productivity prompts Hayek to question the inclusion of writers he regards as planners or propagandists rather than significant economists. Yet he praises the scholarship, especially the research on Postlethwayt’s voluminous publications. The review offers a compact encounter with Hayek’s standards for writing intellectual history: valuable documentation of what once persuaded the public need not establish how a systematic science developed.

Strip away its empirical content, and equilibrium theory is merely a "Pure Logic of Choice" — true by definition, silent about the world. In this 1937 presidential address Hayek asks what must be assumed about the knowledge of separate minds before such analysis can say anything causal. Equilibrium, he argues, means the compatibility of individual plans through time, and "correct foresight" is not a premise added from outside but the very thing equilibrium describes. The familiar appeal to a perfect market merely disguises omniscience as market form. What economics neglects is the division of knowledge — as fundamental as the division of labor — and the learning by which dispersed, situated fragments come into alignment. The essay marks Hayek's turn toward his mature account of markets as coordinators of knowledge no single mind could hold.

The situation seems here to be that before we can explain why people commit mistakes, we must first explain why they should ever be right.

An apparent glut of gold may be a problem of distribution rather than worldwide supply. In this brief 1937 letter to The Times, republished here in 2022, Friedrich August von Hayek brings preliminary London School of Economics research to bear on that distinction. He measures both accumulated monetary gold and annual production against the central-bank liabilities and paper currency they support, rather than treating rising quantities as self-explanatory. His figures temper alarm about global abundance while showing why concentration in Britain and the United States could produce a different impression. The letter offers a compact example of Hayek’s empirical caution: the observed increase is not necessarily alarming, but further production growth could make maintaining the gold price and preventing dangerous credit inflation difficult.

The more capital goods an economy produces, the lower the return on further investment must fall — so runs the static inference this sharp intervention in trade-cycle theory sets out to break. The confusion, Hayek locates in the ambiguity of "capital": aggregate value versus the concrete form and arrangement of capital goods. Investment comes in complementary chains, and once specific fixed capital is sunk, its owners accept prices barely above operating cost, transferring the expected interest to later stages — so that completing a project begun under a 4 percent expectation stays worthwhile even at rates that would have blocked it. A hydroelectric plant may turn unprofitable yet still generate demand for motors. Past investment can thus raise, not lower, the demand for funds, with credit expansion the chief practical trigger.

The success of current investment will depend upon this expectation being fulfilled.

Can a country control its money without disrupting the trade and investment that connect it to others? In Monetary Nationalism and International Stability, first published in 1937 and reprinted here in 1989, Friedrich August von Hayek challenges the promise of monetary independence without simply defending the historical gold standard. His distinctive move is to follow changes in purchasing power through particular people, industries and banks rather than treat national price averages as sufficient explanations. National reserve arrangements, he argues, can turn ordinary shifts in demand into credit contractions that burden investment. Readers can discover why exchange-rate depreciation may relocate rather than remove adjustment costs—and why Hayek’s case for international money entails criticism of existing banking institutions, not merely a call to restore gold.

Can removing mathematical notation make price theory harder to understand? In this short review of E. H. Phelps Brown’s The Framework of the Pricing System, Hayek praises the book’s coherent exposition while questioning its approach to beginners. His objection is not to mathematical economics but to presenting functional dependencies without the tools that make them intelligible. Calculus might better prepare some students; diagrams could clarify substitution and prevent confusion with older utility concepts. The review offers a focused encounter with Hayek as a reader and teacher of economic theory, distinguishing agreement with an argument from confidence in how it is taught.

New documents can unsettle an intellectual biography without yet supplying a better one. In this 1938 review of William Robert Scott’s Adam Smith as Student and Professor, Hayek welcomes evidence that clarifies Smith’s economic thinking before his journey to France and challenges received assumptions about physiocratic influence. Yet archival abundance is not enough: poor cross-references, hard-to-read facsimiles and missing bibliographical guidance leave readers to perform too much of the historian’s work. Hayek’s distinctive concern is the distance between establishing evidence and explaining what it changes. This short review shows him weighing discoveries about Smith against the scholarly presentation needed to make their implications intelligible—and asking for a rewritten biography rather than merely an enlarged documentary record.

An anonymous attempt to promote Hume’s poorly received Treatise also generated a mistaken story about the young Adam Smith. In this brief 1938 review, Hayek endorses Keynes and Sraffa’s attribution of the 1740 Abstract to Hume himself: the pamphlet anticipates revisions published later in the Treatise. He then draws out a biographical consequence. The “Mr. Smith” in Hume’s correspondence appears to have been a Dublin bookseller, not the seventeen-year-old philosopher. Hayek’s concise assessment shows how textual chronology and a corrected identification undermine supposed evidence of an early meeting between Hume and Adam Smith.

A catalogue of books owned is not the same evidence as a list of titles encountered. This distinction anchors Hayek’s 1938 review of William A. Shaw’s edition of Joseph Massie’s bibliography of early economic writing. An omitted manuscript note records the sale of most of Massie’s collection in 1760, undermining Shaw’s account of its continued ownership. Hayek welcomes the printed volume but tests its usefulness against the manuscript: missing subject headings, cross-references and author identifications preserve knowledge that abbreviated titles alone cannot supply. This brief review shows Hayek at work as a exacting bibliographical critic, explaining concretely why a convenient printed checklist may remain an unreliable substitute for its source.

Assurances that economic planning can coexist with freedom are not explanations of how it would do so. This distinction drives Hayek’s short 1938 review of Findlay Mackenzie’s symposium, whose informative discussions of particular policies he distinguishes from its weaker treatment of comprehensive planning. His criticism draws on tensions within the volume itself: contributors repeatedly address liberty and democracy, while the editor concedes that war could disrupt a planned society more severely than one allowing continuous private adjustment. Hayek turns that concession against the argument for extending planning in preparation for defence. The review offers a compact encounter with his critical method: acknowledging useful scholarship while testing whether advocates have answered the institutional difficulties their own discussions expose.