There is not a great deal to be said about economics which is truly universal. One can say that economics is the study of economic systems. Economic systems can be defined as systems of human actions concerned with the production and the distribution of goods and services which are scarce relative to the wants of the community. But statements of this kind, which attempt to define the economic aspect of human society in universally valid terms, are far too general to serve as premises from which an economic theory, useful for understanding actual economic problems, can be logically deduced. To have theory, one must start with premises and assumptions about some particular economic system, historically given, or some particular kind of economic system. The great bodies of economic thought of the Western world—mercantilism, classical and neo-classical economic liberalism, and the various schools of Marxist economic—have been theories relevant to particular economic systems: those, let us say, of the Western world in the seventeenth, eighteenth, and nineteenth centuries.

We are looking for an explanation of the German miracle. Only yesterday an outcast among the nations, eternal troublemaker, never to be trusted, Germany is today the eagerly sought ally of the Western world, next to Great Britain apparently the most stable of the European states. How has this transformation occurred?

One of the most volatile political frontiers in the world today is that which separates Israel from her Arab neighbors. Laid down in 1949 along cease-fire lines, this border has remained closed to all traffic since that time—a symbol of the continued bitterness between the two peoples.

Of Some 45.5 billion dollars in aid which the United States has provided to foreign countries in the postwar period from July 1, 1945, through June 30, 1953, roughly 75 per cent is recorded as grant assistance, the remainder as assistance in the form of credits. Examination of the statistics in these two categories suggests that there really is a third category, in which some of the aid listed in each of the two might properly be put. Thus, transactions listed as “grants” have realized some repayments; others have been renegotiated into cash or credits. On the other hand, there are “loans” which are obviously part grants; other loans remain loans only because of our grants to the same country.

Afarm leader in an inland state talks about surplus wheat rotting at the railroad sidings, and his words create bitterness among hungry people in countries far away; a promise made by the leader of a powerful nation may raise their hopes. A film produced for an American audience may stir envy of our comforts among the people of Western Europe and contempt for our materialism among the intellectuals of Asia, yet a book, or, indeed, another film, may combat false notions of American life and institutions. Race prejudice in one country repels the people of a second country and makes them more receptive to the blandishments of a third. The achievements of a nation—whether in technology, science, economic productivity, or military preparedness—may influence the attitudes and actions of both leaders and masses abroad.

Such is the tale, told eloquently, in an assiduously dispassionate manner, yet neither vapidly nor uncritically, cumulatively dismal in its effect on the reader. The ending is no ending; the book stops halfway before the tragic close—the expulsion of the Chinese Nationalist government from the mainland—almost as if the author wished to avert his eyes from the second four years of full frustration and defeat.

Social science writings have one thing in common with products of the artistic spirit—they readily lend themselves to dating by their “stylistic” traits. This is not a preferred manner for dating scientific products. Science, like technology, is generally regarded as cumulative in its development. To the extent that this is so, it is possible to place a scientific work in its historical position by examining the stage of knowledge that it reveals. However, the store of social science knowledge grows very slowly indeed. The result is that much of social science impresses one as being modern more by virtue of various stylistic traits than by demonstrable additions to, or modifications of, our stock of substantive (or methodological) knowledge.

Biographical analysis has been a traditional device by which historians and social scientists have sought to relate changes in social structure to political developments. All too often, the richness of personal detail has been hung on a “great man” theory of history, without regard to the key leadership groups involved.

Not long ago, in 1946, when an outstanding economist was invited to join the staff of the United Nations, in the new branch of Economic Development, he asked, “Economic development? What is that?” Since then, he has been working intensively on the subject, as have a great many others; and if, before 1945, very little had been written on economic development, by now the literature has assumed the proportions of a flood. Before the war, business cycles were indubitably the favorite subject of professional writing; now, certainly, it is economic development.