Book Review: The Progressive Era by Murray N. Rothbard

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I recently finished reading a great new book published by the Mises Institute, entitled The Progressive Era. This new work is mostly formed of previously unpublished material – 9 previously unpublished chapters and 6 previously published essays, which have been edited together into a cohesive whole  – written by the great ‘Austrian’ economist, historian, and libertarian theorist Murray N. Rothbard. As the title would tend to suggest, the book covers the ‘Progressive’ period of American history (generally dated from the 1890s to the 1920s), during which the relatively laissez-faire politics and economics of 19th century America gave way to the modern corporatist and interventionist state as we know it today.

Rothbard began writing the book in the 1970s during his association with the Cato Institute, but due to a number of reasons – ranging from his other projects to the characteristic way in which his great enthusiasm for the subject matter propelled the book far beyond its initial word limit, and ultimately due to his premature death in 1995 – the book was never completed in his lifetime. Fortunately however, the book’s editor Dr. Patrick Newman (with whom I was a Mises Institute Fellow in Residence in the summer of 2017) was able to unearth the unpublished manuscripts from Rothbard’s voluminous archives and piece this great work back together for publication over 22 years after the author’s death. The result is a brilliant account of this important period of American history, and a towering achievement in its own right, even aside from the significance of its author and the story of its troubled journey to publication.

Typical accounts of the Progressive Era usually paint it as a glorious victory of benevolent government which, in faithful response to the demands of the people, put an end to the dog-eat-dog competition and robber barons of 19th-century capitalism. In light of how naive and simplistic such traditional accounts of the era have been, it is particularly refreshing to hear Rothbard’s revisionist history of the period, particularly given the extraordinary scope and depth of the work.

Rothbard begins his study with an analysis of the rise of the railroads in the 1840s as America’s first big business and extends it through the cartelisation and regulation which characterised the Progressive Era, the collapse of the Third Party System, and ultimately to the ‘fulfillment’ of the new progressive state in World War One and the Great Depression. Far from a benevolent government response to the spontaneous outcries of the people, Rothbard finds that the key policies of the Progressive era can more often be characterised as attempts at cartelisation by big businesses in the pursuit of higher profits. Having failed to successfully cartelise on the relatively free markets of the preceding decades, such big businesses increasingly turned to government in the latter years of the 19th century, to enforce such cartels and impose burdensome regulations on their smaller competitors. This revisionist interpretation is strongly supported by Rothbard’s characteristically details-oriented approach to history writing, making this book an excellent resource for students and researchers, with plenty of pointers to further reading implied by the vast number of figures and events referenced.

Rothbard’s analysis is also set apart from others on the subject by the great weight it gives to religious divisions in US for understanding the Third Party System and its ultimate collapse. Reduced to its absolute essentials, Rothbard’s argument is that postmillennial Pietists (usually Protestants) believed that the Second Advent of Jesus Christ could not occur until a thousand-year Kingdom of God on Earth was established, which they believed required the stamping out of a great number of personal sins, significantly including alcohol. This led the Pietists to favour a much higher degree of state intervention into the economic and personal lives of its subjects, in the pursuit of this lofty and vital goal. The Pietists were consequently much more likely to vote for the statist parties of the time, including the Republicans, the Abolitionists, and the strongly anti-immigrant ‘Know-Nothing’ party. Liturgicals (such as Catholics) conversely believed that the thousand-year Kingdom of God on Earth would occur after the Second Advent of Jesus Christ, causing them to concern themselves more with adhering to religious rituals, keeping an eye out for portents that His coming was near, and so forth. The Liturgicals were therefore less concerned with stamping out personal sin and enforcing holiness, and hence were much more likely to vote for the more laissez-faire Democratic party. While most modern historians are inclined to dismiss such religious considerations in favour of ‘real’ factors, such as economic class, ethnicity, geography and so forth, Rothbard’s case is nevertheless made extremely convincing by his extensive application of demographic and electoral data from the time. Even if you’re inclined to disagree with Rothbard’s conclusions, it is now difficult for me to believe, having read the book, that one’s understanding of the Progressive Era and the Third Party System could be complete without this understanding of the religious factors at play.

In conclusion, I am simply amazed that such strong material was able to go unpublished for so many years, and am grateful to Dr. Patrick Newman and the Mises Institute for their efforts in bringing this masterful book to publication at last. Rothbard’s Progressive Era provides an account of that important time in American history that is both sweepingly broad and deeply details-oriented in a way that will satisfy both serious researchers and interested lay readers.

Furthermore, thanks to the generosity of the Mises Institute’s donors, the book is available for free on their website as a PDF, an ebook, and an audiobook! For more details, see this link:

If you would like to own a physical copy of the book, you can buy one at this link:

Finally, if you’re interested to learn more about the book and this period of history before reading, the book’s editor Dr. Patrick Newman gave an excellent talk about the subject at the Mises Institute’s Mises University summer programme last year.


What would Rothbard do about the Crown Estate? A follow-up to a follow-up…

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Several months ago, during my stay at the Mises Institute this summer, I wrote an article for wherein I argued that increases in funding for the Royal Family should not be regarded as an extra burden on the taxpayer, because the Royal Family’s money comes not from tax revenue but from the profits of the land owned by the Queen, known as the Crown Estate. I then highlighted how the historic expansion of the English and then British state over the past 1000 years has eroded the monarch’s control over the Crown Estate and its revenues, with the result being that the Queen now effectively suffers an 85% income tax. This led me to conclude that libertarians should actively support rises in the Royal Family’s funding from this source, as it would represent a heroic rolling back of the state’s encroachment on the Queen’s property rights.

Although that latter sentiment was expressed with my tongue firmly in my cheek, I did follow it up with a more serious-minded post on this blog, in which I explained why I thought that an NAP-adhering legal system in an anarcho-capitalist society, along the lines of what Rothbard described in his great work The Ethics of Liberty, would uphold the Queen’s right to property in the Crown Estate. To briefly summarise my argument, I conceded that most of the Crown Estate lands were probably initially acquired by the Royal family illegitimately, by exercising coercion against their rightful owners. However given that this all took place hundreds of years ago, it would be very difficult to work out who the present-day heirs to those rightful owners are, likely making it impossible to return that property to its present-day rightful owners with any degree of certainty. In the legal system Rothbard describes in The Ethics of Liberty, an NAP-adhering court would therefore declare the Crown Estate to be unowned land, meaning that the person who has been using it most recently should be regarded as having homesteaded it, and therefore should be regarded as the new rightful owner, as per libertarian theory 101. My error came when, in my blog post, rather than carefully thinking through who this ‘person who has been using it most recently’ would be, I instead automatically assumed it must be the Queen, as she is nominally the current owner of the Crown Estate and has been renting it out. Therefore I believed that a Rothbardian legal system would uphold the Queen’s right to property in the Crown Estate, even though the English/British Monarchy initially acquired most of those lands illegitimately.

However, some months later my good friend Chris Calton, who was also a Mises Institute Fellow in Residence in the summer of 2017, wrote me a message to challenge this view. He brought my attention to a passage on pages 66-67 of The Ethics of Liberty, wherein Rothbard addresses this very problem almost directly. Here is that passage:

(For some reason it wouldn’t let me copy and paste the text from my PDF of Rothbard’s book, so instead I’m including screenshots of the page. Hopefully they won’t be too low-resolution to read.

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TL;DR: My interpretation of what a Rothbardian legal system would do in the case of the Crown Lands was correct up until the point where I assumed that the Queen was the person who had been ‘using’ the land most recently, and therefore should be regarded as having homesteaded it. In fact, Rothbard believed that the people currently renting the land and operating their businesses on it/living on it etc. are the people who have been ‘using’ it, and therefore should be regarded as having homesteaded it.

Thanks for correcting me, Chris!

By the way, if any of you aren’t familiar with Chris Calton and his work, I’d heartily encourage you to familiarise yourself with his stuff. Aside from being a brilliant scholar, he regularly writes popular articles for, as well as writing and hosting the Mises Institute’s ‘Historical Controversies’ podcast, which is by far and away my favourite podcast of all time! He also has a great YouTube channel where he discusses libertarian and anarchist topics. If you’re at all interested in libertarianism and/or history, you owe it to yourself to check his stuff out!

Why Austrian Economics?

The other day someone sent me a question over on my Tumblr blog: “Why Austrian economist? I thought you were English. Aren’t you a British national?”

The question highlights the fact that, despite its resurgence and speedy growth in recent years, the “Austrian School” of economics is still seen by many as part of what Keynes would have called the economic “underground”. Indeed, the Austrian tradition lies so firmly outside the mainstream of economic thought that, for the inaugural post on this blog, perhaps I should repeat here a somewhat expanded version of the answer I gave to that confused Tumblr follower. What is “Austrian” economics? Why is it unique? And why is it so vital that it’s message be understood in these troubled economic times?

As I highlighted in the “About” page of this blog, I’m still a relative newcomer to Austrian ideas, and my hope is that the level of understanding displayed on this blog will increase as time goes on. So the reader should temper their expectations somewhat for this very first post, as it likely won’t be the most exhaustive or masterful exposition of Austrianism ever. Nevertheless, it should still serve to single out some of the most fundamental ideas in the Austrian tradition, as well as those which strike me as most important to the state of economics today.

So first thing’s first, forget about the “Austrian” part. Austrian economics doesn’t refer to supply and demand in Vienna, or inflation in Salzberg, and too many people get confused thinking it must have something to do with the actual country of Austria itself. In fact, most “Austrian” economists today live and work in North America and, as the great economist Murray Rothbard quipped, “there are very few ‘Austrians’ left in Austria.”  Austrian Economics is rather a school of thought, a body of ideas and theories, which were first explored by Carl Menger in the 1860s.

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Carl Menger (1840-1921)

During his time as a financial journalist in central-Europe, Menger noticed that the received wisdom of Classical Economics did not match-up with how he observed prices being formed on real-world markets. This prompted him to write his Principles of Economics (1871) which demolished the archaic “labour theory of value” favoured by Adam Smith, David Ricardo, and Karl Marx, and ushered in the “Marginal Revolution” of the 1870s. (Incidentally, its genesis in Menger’s 1871 work makes Austrian Economics the oldest continuously-existing school of economic thought in the world.) For about a decade after the publication of the Principles, there was no “Austrian school”, there was only Menger. However, in the mid-1880s Menger came under attack by the dominant school of economic thought in the area at that time, the so-called “German Historical school”. The Germans disdained Menger’s abstract theorising, instead favouring pragmatism and reference to historical knowledge as the correct approach to the economy. At this point in history, Germany was considered the cultural and intellectual centre of Europe, and so adherents to the German Historical school began referring to Menger and his ideas as mere “Austrian economics”, in an attempt to brush them aside as unrefined and parochial. Despite being intended as an insult, the name stuck and, as Menger’s ideas gained an increasing following throughout the 1880s, including brothers-in-law Eugen von Böhm-Bawerk (1851-1914) and Friedrich von Wieser (1851-1926), the “Austrian school” of economics was born.

From that time until this the Austrian school, despite its ostracism from most of academia, has nevertheless developed a host of key economic ideas, some of which have even been accepted into the corpus of acceptable mainstream opinion. These include Menger’s subjective marginal utility theory of value, Böhm-Bawerk’s positive time-preference theory of interest, and Wieser’s concept of opportunity cost. Other adherents to the Austrian tradition, whose names might be more familiar to the lay reader, include: the extremely eminent economist Friedrich von Hayek (1899-1992), whose political writings, such as the famous Road to Serfdom, influenced British Prime Minister Margaret Thatcher; Murray Rothbard (1926-1995), economist and founding father of the political ideology now known as anarcho-capitalism; and three-time US Presidential candidate Ron Paul (1935- ).

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Ludwig von Mises (1881 – 1973)

However, I’m many ways, the central figure to the modern Austrian tradition was the brilliant economist Ludwig von Mises (1881-1973). Although he made extraordinarily important and extensive contributions to the theories of money and credit, the problem of economic calculation in planned economies, and our understanding of the business cycle, perhaps Mises’s most important contribution to economic thought was in the rarely-traversed field of methodology. Mises devoted a large part of his career to explicating and systematising the method which had been implicitly used by previous Austrian economists, as well as by proto-Austrian figures such as J.B. Say and A.R.J. Turgot.

Looking at the academic world around him in the early- to mid-20th century, Mises became increasingly concerned by what he saw as the grave methodological bankruptcy of modern economics. Ever greater numbers of economists, particularly those in the penumbra of the logical positivist movement, were beginning to believe that the best way to gain insights into the economy was simply by  measuring and gathering its empirical data, and then discerning the mathematical relations between the various variables. While this is undoubtedly a fruitful way to approach the natural sciences, such as Physics, Mises believed that its use in the distinctly human science of economics introduced an unacceptable element of error, in particular due to its inability to account for two factors which he called “finality” and “ideas”.

What he means by “finality” is the understanding that human action, unlike the movement of atoms or the reaction of chemicals, takes place in the pursuit of individually chosen goals. Because people chose the outcomes they would like to achieve, this means the range of different behaviours they exhibit in the face of external forces is much wider and less predictable. Not only are the goals people aim at as numerous and varied as the human race itself, but any person or number of people in the economy could change the goals they’re aiming at at any time, in any way, and any number of times, and could do so for reasons completely unknown to anyone but themselves, least of all to the economist and his calculator. This peccadillo of human nature and (apparent) free will, leads to a potentially infinite number and variety of future changes in the economic system, which severely restricts the predictive power of mere data-gathering and mathematical methods.

What he means by “ideas” is the fact that different people have very different ways of looking at the world, which cannot be empirically measured or modelled for. These different world-views, beliefs, and constellations of abstract concepts which exist within each individual mind, cause different people to react in unforeseeably different ways when confronted with the same external circumstances.

Mises argued that the failure of (what is now) the mainstream economic method to account for these two human factors, finality and ideas, as well as the impossibility of truly controlled experiments in economics, renders the empirical/mathematical method useful only as tools of economic history, able to blandly state what happened in the past, but little more. For the purposes of devising economic theories, on the other hand, to actually explain the past and predict the results of future changes, Mises had to create an entirely new field of study: Praxeology.

Praxeology is the value-free, objective science of human action, of which Economics is the most well-developed branch. In order to overcome the extreme variety and unpredictability of human action, Mises sought a few core statements about it which are undeniably true under all circumstances: axioms. The most important praxeological axiom is the Action Axiom: the statement that human beings select particular outcomes which they would like to achieve, and then pursue those outcomes by chosen means. In a word, humans “act.” This is axiomatically true, because any attempt to disprove it would be to select a preferred outcome, and then to pursue it by chosen means. That might seem banal, but because these axioms are undeniably true under all circumstances, that must mean that any statement that can be correctly deduced from them logically must also be true under all circumstances. Any economic statement correctly deduced in this way, would therefore also be universally true, and hence would have overcome the obstacles of finality, ideas, and the sheer complexity of the economy.

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Six key “Austrian” Economists, and some of their notable ideas and works.

Therefore, Mises argued that a priori logical deduction from axioms about human action was the only method by which undeniable economic truths could be discovered. Misesian Austrians argue that this method equips the economist with the ability to make a narrower range of predictions, but to do so with absolute certainty. An Austrian economist doesn’t believe they can predict what the price of crude oil will be in a year, or by how much a certain tax hike will raise government revenue. Rather they believe their system allows the economist to make absolutely certain statements, like “Other things being equal, people will always value acquiring the ‘n’-th unit of a good, more than they value the ‘n+1′-th unit of the same good”,  or “Other things being equal, a rise in the price of a particular good will always cause people to prefer buying a smaller amount of that good than they otherwise would have.”

Mises further understood that, if an economic law really is true under all circumstances, as a result of having been correctly deduced from praxeological axioms, that law would therefore be invulnerable to supposed empirical evidence against it. Indeed, if economic laws can be deduced aprioristically in this way, asking to prove or disprove them with empirical evidence wouldn’t even make sense; to compare economics to another purely aprioristic science, it would be like asking a mathematician to go out into the real world and gather empirical evidence to prove that the 2 is never the same number as 7. Naturally, their complete rejection of supposed empirical evidence, as well as their increasingly unfashionable lack of interest in mathematical analysis, has made the Austrians extremely unpopular in academic circles, and they have consequently been relegated to well outside the mainstream since at least the Keynesian devolution of 1936 onward.

However, there has been a somewhat increasing level of interest in the Austrian school in recent decades, and certainly since the Great Recession. It didn’t go unnoticed that a disproportionate number of the people who accurately predicted the 2008 financial crash in advance were Austrians, and this has led to growing interest in perhaps the most important Austrian theory for our times: the Austrian Theory of the Business Cycle.

I’m conscious that this post is already so long that it could easily be mistaken for the average modern-day cinematic release, and with a roughly equivalent proportion of the audience proffering unanswered pleas to God for mercy at this point. Furthermore, I’m sure I’ll have many other chances to relay this elegant theory in future posts, so I won’t go into it in any great depth here. But basically, the absolute bare bones of the Austrian business cycle theory, which was first outlined by Mises and then fleshed out by Hayek, is the idea that interest rates coordinate production across time. If the interest rate is high, it will be more expensive to borrow money for a long time, so businesses will tend to invest more in enterprises which will yield profits quickly, i.e. consumers’ goods. Conversely, if the rate is low, it will appear more profitable for businesses to invest in producers’ goods and other projects which won’t yield profits for a long time. On a free market, the rate is determined by supply and demand of credit, i.e. how much people are saving. This coordinates things beautifully, because banks will offer high rates (and hence stimulate investment in consumers’ goods) when people are saving least (and hence demonstrating their desire to consume now), and banks will offer low rates (and hence stimulate long-run investment) precisely when people are saving most (and hence demonstrating their preference for spending in the future.) However, the Austrian theory shows that the business cycle is kicked-off when the interest rate is pushed artificially low, usually by a government central bank. The artificially low rate incentivises consumers to save less and spend more in the present, while at the same time incentivising businesses to produce less in the present and invest more in long-term projects. This disco-ordination leads to lots of spending, lots of construction, lots of investment, and outwardly that all looks great, but under the hood it’s merely the boom or “bubble” that precedes the crash. When the government eventually has to raise interest rates again, to avoid severe inflation, all these long-term projects which had the illusion of profitability at the artificially low rate, will be revealed to have actually been unprofitable all along. Therefore all the resources businesses sunk into such projects are shown to have been wasted, resulting in economy-wide losses, the bursting of the bubble, and the resulting inevitable crash.

I understand that that’s an extremely oversimplified version of the Austrian theory, which is actually quite a lot more complex and nuanced than most other explanations of the business cycle, but hopefully I’ll be able to do it a little more justice in future posts.

Anyway, I should probably finish this utter behemoth of a first post here. Hopefully though that will have given pretty good outline of why I think the Austrian school stands so far apart from the crowd, and why I consider its method and business cycle theory so important to the current state of economics today. If you’d like to learn more, I’d heartily encourage you to check out the absolute wealth of educational materials that the Mises Institute puts out, both on their website and on YouTube. They, in their extraordinary generosity, have made practically every major work of Austrian economics available as free PDFs, and sometimes even as free audiobooks, alongside all sorts of other goodies they offer on their website, so you’ll do yourself an immense favour by checking them out. In general though, if you want to learn more I hope you’ll continue to follow the output on this blog in the future, as I certainly look forward to writing more on this fascinating subject, as well as on libertarianism and current events in general.