The archive.

Between Keynesian fiscal management and monetarist money-supply tinkering, Rothbard insists, almost no one considers a third path: removing government from money and the economy altogether. This compact 1973 introduction presents Ludwig von Mises as that neglected alternative, tracing his thought across nine chapters from the Menger–Böhm-Bawerk roots of marginal utility and time preference through the regression theorem, the integration of money into price theory, and the Austrian theory of the business cycle, where credit expansion breeds the malinvestment later liquidated in depression. It follows Mises's calculation argument against socialism, his praxeological method against positivism, the achievement of Human Action, and his marginalized years of exile at New York University. Rothbard reads stagflation and monetary disorder as vindication, offering Mises as both economic theorist and remedy for a civilization in crisis.

Human Action is IT; it is economics whole, developed from sound praxeological axioms, based squarely on analysis of acting man, the purposive individual as he acts in the real world.

A physician may prescribe because he and his patient share a premise—that health and life are good; the policy economist, by contrast, stands on no such common moral ground. Economics may remain a value-free causal science, Rothbard concedes, but the moment it enters policy it smuggles in ethics under neutral-sounding terms. He turns this charge on Pareto optimality, the unanimity and compensation principles, Coase-Demsetz property analysis, externality internalization, price-level stabilization, and national-income accounting, showing each to rest on unstated moral premises. Because utility is subjective and ordinal, no one can scientifically weigh one person's gain against another's loss; a stolen-watch sale, or the question of compensating slaveholders or slaves, turns on justice, not technique. Economists must defend their value judgments openly or quit policy altogether.

But “utility” is a purely subjective and unmeasurable concept, and being purely psychic, it cannot be measured, either conceptually or in practice.

A market transaction is not the transport of goods but the transfer of a title; free-market economists, Rothbard insists, therefore cannot defend voluntary exchange without also defending the justice of the ownership behind it. His 1974 essay presses this against the utilitarians Coase and Demsetz, whose deference to whatever government defines as property collapses, he argues, into legal positivism—ready to endorse arbitrary redistribution or even slavery so long as it is legal. Against them he builds a natural-rights theory from two principles: self-ownership of one's body, and the homesteading of unused nature through labor, from which exchange, wages, saving, and bequest follow. Applied to real titles it cuts both ways, condemning holdings rooted in conquest or state grant, as with coercive Latin American landlords, while validating many others—making it as anti-conservative as it is anti-socialist.

Whichever way he decides, the economist cannot escape a judgment, a theory of justice in the ownership of property.

The rioting and near civil war in Northern Ireland gives Rothbard the occasion to argue that anti-statism need not mean indifference to peoples under occupation. Libertarians who scorn national liberation as merely the manufacture of new nation-states become, he warns, the objective defenders of today's bloated empires—as the Russian anarchists did in 1918 when they opposed Ukrainian and White Russian independence. His decisive distinction separates aggressive nationalism, which rationalizes conquest, from liberatory nationalism, which resists it, and he treats "collective security" as a swindle that sanctifies borders first drawn by aggression. Applying a property-and-aggression analysis to political geography, he proposes that the Catholic-majority districts of Northern Ireland—Western Derry, Tyrone, Fermanagh, southern Armagh and Down—revert to the South.

Nationalism is not a unitary, monolithic phenomenon. If it is aggressive, we should oppose it; if liberatory, we should favor it.

Liberty against Power, social power against state power, that antithesis drives this sweeping narrative history of colonial America, running from the first seventeenth-century settlements through the Revolution and the Articles of Confederation. Rothbard rejects class conflict as the engine of events, reserving it for cases where groups seize government privilege, and applies a Lockean test of legitimate ownership by labor and first use against feudal grants, quitrents, and mercantilist monopoly. Puritan theocracy, Bacon's Rebellion, the persecution of Quakers, the Dominion of New England, and the market forces that dissolved wage-and-price controls all become episodes in one drama. Detailed narrative, long abandoned by textbook surveys, is restored here as the very substance of history.

The cleansing acid of profit was to dissolve incipient feudalism and land monopoly.

Delivered as an address in Brussels in 1974, this brief tribute remembers Ludwig von Mises less through doctrine than through bearing—the teacher who, in his New York seminar, still urged students to read German and who carried, for younger admirers, a last breath of the noble atmosphere of pre-1914 Vienna. Rothbard's estimate of the achievement is exact: Mises built an integrated structure of economics, methodology, philosophy, and history at a time when such architectonic systems had grown unfashionable, and it was precisely that scale the narrowing academy could not recognize. Neglect, on this reading, indicts the age rather than the man. From intellectual scale Rothbard turns to moral character—the courage to keep producing unfashionable truth without trimming principle for status—and closes by observing that Mises's influence was accelerating among younger scholars even after his death.

Every person is in some sense unique and irreplaceable, but I think it is fair to say that Ludwig von Mises was uniquely unique.

A one-year moratorium is all Rothbard asks for in this comic New Year's reprimand to the libertarian movement: no more survivalists urging flight to the hills with stockpiles of dried beans, no more escapist schemes to found liberty on offshore platforms and islands like Minerva, Abaco, or Atlantis, no more therapeutic chatter about open relationships and getting in touch with one's feelings, and, for good measure, a year without science fiction. Behind the satire runs a serious demand: liberty is won by disciplined engagement with actual institutions, not by fantasies of purity, withdrawal, or self-expression. Rothbard writes as an irritated insider who prefers a crippled market and urban comfort to any private Eden, insisting the movement come back and fight for freedom at home.

I know it's a hopeless fantasy, but I can dream, can't I?

Should national currencies float freely against one another like any other market price? Milton Friedman and the Chicago School said yes; Rothbard's answer is that the question rests on a false analogy. A market makes sense between different goods, not between different units of the same good, and the dollar, pound, and franc were once merely names for definite weights of gold. Written after the collapse of Bretton Woods, this essay recasts the classical gold standard not as arbitrary price-fixing but as a monetary order in which exchange rates follow from fixed definitions, the way pounds and ounces do. Fluctuating fiat money, Rothbard argues, fractures the unit of account, works like a hidden tariff, invites inflation and exchange controls, and drifts back toward barter.

It is virtually a law of politics that government will use the power that it is given.

What defines the State, on Rothbard's account, is not the provision of defense, courts, or law, but two things only: revenue extracted through coerced taxation and a compulsory territorial monopoly over protection. Strip those away and anarchism becomes not the absence of order but the absence of legalized aggression against person and property. Delivered in 1974, this compact statement of polycentric legal theory imagines disputes resolved through competing private courts, arbitration bodies, and insurance-linked protection agencies, drawing on William Wooldridge's history of merchant law and on the thousands of arbitrations already conducted outside state compulsion. The Jones family thought experiment turns the standard case for monopoly government into a reductio, while a shared libertarian law code forbidding aggression holds the whole framework together.

Pay us for your 'protection' or else.

Why do people consent to their own enslavement? Rescued here from Montaigne's shadow, the sixteenth-century Discourse of Voluntary Servitude is read by Rothbard as an abstract inquiry into the mechanics of domination rather than a topical anti-tyrannical pamphlet. La Boétie's insight is that no tyrant holds independent power: subjects lend him their taxes, offices, soldiers, and submission, so every regime rests finally on popular acquiescence. From this follows a strategy of liberation by withdrawal — not tyrannicide but collective refusal to cooperate. Rothbard reconstructs why so simple a remedy is rarely taken: habit deforms the memory of freedom, spectacle and mystification manufacture consent, and a hierarchy of favorites and officials profits from despotism and passes it downward. He closes by turning the analysis on the modern state, whose mystique a perceptive minority must demystify and desanctify.

Resolve to serve no more, and you are at once freed.

Falling prices can signal greater abundance, not merely economic distress. In this 1976 contribution, republished in 2016, Murray N. Rothbard challenges both inflationary policy and the ideal of a stable price level, distinguishing productivity gains from increased demand for money and contraction of credit. Cheaper televisions and calculators make his initial case concrete: consumers can gain purchasing power without receiving higher money incomes. The sharper tension emerges when this defense of lower prices becomes an argument for liquidating unsound investments and withdrawing protections for banks and wages. Readers can examine where Rothbard’s account of consumer gains ends and his Austrian program of institutional reform begins—and why accepting one need not settle the other.

Generations of textbooks credit Barone, Lange, and Lerner with solving Mises's challenge to socialist planning; Rothbard denies they ever touched it. Their demonstrations that a planning board could solve equations of prices and production presuppose a static world of perfect knowledge—precisely the conditions under which calculation would pose no problem. Real production, for Mises and Hayek, unfolds amid uncertainty, dispersed knowledge, heterogeneous capital, and entrepreneurial judgment, and demands genuine markets in the factors of production. Lange-Lerner 'market socialism' only mimics competitive pricing while abolishing the capital markets that generate prices; Soviet planning survived parasitically, on external capitalist prices. Developing a subjectivist theory of cost as forward-looking and unmeasurable, Rothbard extends the argument beyond socialism to any 'One Big Firm' that would swallow the very markets it depends on.

The fact that in a changeless world of perfect knowledge and general equilibrium a socialist planning board could “solve” equations of prices and production was for Mises a worse than useless demonstration.