We explain a phenomenon when we trace it back to general principles. Any other mode of explanation is denied to us. Explanation in this sense in no way means the elucidation of the final cause, the ontological basis, of the being and becoming of a phenomenon. Sooner or later we must always reach a point beyond which we cannot advance.

Thus far we have been unable to succeed in grasping in any way the relationship that exists between the Psychical and the physical. We are not at present in a position to provide any explanation of it in terms of general principles. Hence, in spite of the unity of the logical structure of our thought, we are compelled to have recourse to two separate spheres of scientific cognition: the science of nature and the science of human action.

We approach the subject matter of the natural sciences from without. The result of our observations is the establishment of functional relations of dependence. The propositions concerning these relationships constitute the general principles by which we explain the phenomena of nature. Once we have constructed the system of these principles, we have done all that we can do. In the sciences of human action, on the other hand, we comprehend phenomena from within. Because we are human beings, we are in a position to grasp the meaning of human action, that is, the meaning that the actor has attached to his action. It is this comprehension of meaning that enables us to formulate the general principles by means of which we explain the phenomena of action,

One will best appreciate what is accomplished by this approach to human action, which comprehends its meaning, if one contrasts to it the attempt of behaviorism to view the behavior of men from without, in accordance with the methods of animal psychology. The behaviorists want to abandon the endeavor to grasp the conduct of man on the basis of its meaning. They want to see in him nothing but reactions to definite stimuli. If they were to carry out their program rigorously, they could do nothing but record the occurrences that have taken place at a particular time. And it would be impermissible for them to infer from what has occurred at a particular time anything concerning what might have occurred in other previous cases or what will take place in the future.

As a rule, the situation to which man consciously reacts can be analyzed only with concepts that make reference to meaning. If one chooses to analyze the situation without entering into the meaning that acting man sees in it, the analysis will not be successful in bringing into relief what is essential in the situation and decisive of the nature of the reaction to it. The conduct of a man whom another wants to cut with a knife will be entirely different depending on whether he beholds in the intended operation a mutilation or a surgical incision. And without recourse to meaning, there is no art by which one can succeed in analyzing a situation like that arising in the production of a supply of consumers’ goods. The reaction of conscious conduct is, without exception, meaningful, and it is to be comprehended only by entering into its meaning. It is always an outgrowth of a theory, that is, a doctrine that connects cause and effect, and of the desire to attain a definite end.

Only by deceiving itself could behaviorism reach the point where it would be in a position to say anything about action. If, true to its resolve, behaviorism were completely to renounce the attempt to grasp meaning, it could not even succeed in singling out what it declares to be the subject matter of its research from all that the senses observe of human and animal behavior.1  It would not succeed in marking off its function from that of physiology. Physiology, Watson maintains, is concerned in particular with the behavior of the parts of the animal; behaviorism, with the behavior of the whole animal.2  Yet surely neither the reaction of the body to an infection nor the phenomena of growth and age are to be classified as “behavior of the parts.” If, on the other hand, one chooses to regard a movement of the hand as an instance of behavior on the part of the “whole animal,” one can, of course, do so only on the view that in this movement of the hand something becomes operative that cannot be attributed to any particular part of the body. This something, however, can be nothing else than “meaning” or that which begets “meaning.”

Whatever results behaviorism has attained in the observation of the behavior of animals and children it owes to the—of course, concealed and denied—smuggling in of teleology. Without it, all that behaviorism would have been able to accomplish would have remained nothing more than an enormous compilation of cases occurring in a given place and at a given time.

• 1Cf. Bühler, Die Krise der Psychologie (Jena, 1927), p. 46.
• 2Cf. Watson, Behaviorism (New York, 1924), p. 11.

In German logic and philosophy the term “understanding” (Verstehen) has been adopted to signify the procedure of the sciences of human action, the essence of which lies in grasping the meaning of action.3 To take this term in the sense accepted by the majority of those who have employed it, one must, above all, bear in mind that in Germany the development and refinement of a theoretical science having in view the attainment of universally valid principles of human action had either not been considered at all or else had been vehemently opposed. Historicism did not want to admit that, in addition to the disciplines that make use of the methods of history and philology, there is still another, a science that aims at universally valid cognition. The champions of historicism wanted to approve only of history (in the broadest sense) and challenged the very possibility and legitimacy of sociology in general and of economic theory in particular. They did not see that without recourse to propositions accepted as universally valid, even history cannot be understood and that the theory of human action is logically prior to history. It is to the merit of historicism that it rejected the endeavors of naturalism, which—no less mistakenly than historicism, though in another regard—for its part condemned all historical disciplines and wanted to replace history with a science of the laws of human development that was to be modeled on the prototype of Newtonian mechanics or on that of the Darwinian theory of evolution. The concept of understanding as the specific methodological tool of the sciences of human action was developed by historicism to serve it no less in the struggle against naturalism than in that against the nomothetic science of human action.

Today, when understanding is discussed in German scientific literature, it is, as a rule, made clear that what is meant by the term is the method of the “moral sciences,” which comprehends meaning, in contrast to the method of cognition from without employed by the natural sciences. But since, as we have mentioned, this literature is almost completely lacking in any realization that a theoretical science of human action is also possible, it has generally sought to define understanding as the specific comprehension of the unique and the irrational, as the intuitive grasp of the historically nonrepeatable, in contrast to conception, which is attainable by rational methods of thought.4  In and of itself, it would have been possible to include in the definition of understanding every procedure that is directed toward the comprehension of meaning. However, as things stand today, we must accommodate ourselves to the prevailing usage. Therefore, within the procedures employed by the sciences of human action for the comprehension of meaning we shall differentiate between conception and understanding. Conception seeks to grasp the meaning of action through discursive reasoning. Understanding seeks the meaning of action in empathic intuition of a whole.

Where conception is at all applicable, it takes precedence over understanding in every respect. That which results from discursive reasoning can never be refuted or even affected by intuitive comprehension of a context of meaning. The province of understanding lies only where conception and the concept are unable to penetrate: in the apprehension of the quality of values. In the domain open to conception, strict logic rules: one is able to prove and disprove; there is a point to conversing with others about what is “true” and what is “false” and to posing problems and discussing their solution. What has been arrived at by means of conception must be acknowledged as established, or else must be shown to be either unproved or confuted. It cannot be avoided and it cannot be circumvented. On the other hand, where understanding enters, the realm of subjectivity begins. We are unable to impart to others any certain knowledge of what is intuitively foreknown and apprehended, of what has not been hardened in the forge of conceptual thought. The words in which we express it bid others to follow us and to re-experience the complex whole that we have experienced. But whether and how we are followed depends on the personality and the inclination of the one bidden. We cannot even determine with certainty whether we have been understood as we wanted to be understood, for only the sharp imprint of the concept ensures unequivocalness; it is to a concept alone that words can be made to fit precisely.

In this respect, understanding suffers from the same insufficiency as all other efforts—artistic, metaphysical, or mystical—to reproduce the intuition of a whole. What we are confronted with in these attempts are words that can be understood in different senses, from which a person takes out what he himself puts in. As far as the historian describes the political and military deeds of Caesar, no misunderstanding can arise between him and his readers. But where he speaks of Caesar’s greatness, his personality, his charisma, then the words of the historian can be understood in different ways. There can be no discussion concerning understanding because it is always subjectively conditioned. Conception is reasoning; understanding is beholding.

“Conception” of rational behavior does not set goals for itself as ambitious as those that “understanding” pursues. Nevertheless, in its own domain, it is able to accomplish all that it undertakes to do. For we grasp and conceive rational behavior by means of the immutable logical structure of our reason, which is the basis of all rationality. The a priori of reasoning is at the same time the a priori of rational action. Conception of human behavior is the γνωσις του ομοιου τω ομοιω of Empedocles.

• 3Joachim Wach undertakes far-reaching historical and exegetical investigations concerning the development of the theory of understanding in German science in his work, Das Verstehen, Grundzüge einer Geschichte der hermeneutischen Theorie im 19. Jahrhundert (3 vols., Tübingen, 1926–1933). If one also wanted to sketch the history of “conception” in the sense in which this term is used in the present text, one would have to go back, above all, to the literature of utilitarianism.
• 4Cf. Rothacker, Logik und Systematik der Geisteswissenschaften, pp. 119 ff.

All attempts at scientific explanation can at best succeed only in explaining the changes in something given. The given itself is inexplicable. It simply is. Why it is remains hidden from us. It is the irrational?that which reasoning cannot exhaust, that which concepts are unable to grasp without leaving something still unexplained.

For the science of human action, the valuations and goals of the final order at which men aim constitute the ultimate given, which it is unable to explain any further. Science can record and classify values, but it can no more “explain” them than it can prescribe the values that are to be acknowledged as correct or condemned as perverted. The intuitive apprehension of values by means of understanding is still not an “explanation.” All that it attempts to do is to see and determine what the values in a given case are, and nothing more. Where the historian tries to go beyond this, he becomes an apologist or a judge, an agitator or a politician. He leaves the sphere of reflective, inquiring, theoretical science and himself enters the arena of human action.

Science belongs completely to the domain of rationality. There can no more be a science of the irrational than there can be irrational science. The irrational lies outside the domain of human reasoning and science. When confronted with the irrational, reasoning and science can only record and classify. They are unable to penetrate more “deeply,” not even with the aid of the “understanding.” Indeed, the criterion of the irrational is precisely that it cannot be fully comprehended by reasoning. That which we are able to master completely by reasoning is no longer irrational.

The purest example of the irrational as an object of scientific activity is to be found in what is called Kunstwissenschaft.*  Kunstwissenschaft can never be more than the history of the arts and of artists, of art techniques, of the subjects and themes treated by art, and of the ideas governing it. There is no universally valid theory of the artistic, of aesthetic values, or of artistic individuality. What writers on art say about it, whether in commendation or in condemnation, expresses only their own personal experience of the work of art. This may be called “understanding,” but, as far as it goes beyond the ascertainment of the irrational facts of the case, it is definitely not science. One who analyzes a work of art breaks it up in the strict sense of the word. Its specific aesthetic quality, however, is effective only in the whole of the work, not in its parts. A work of art is an attempt to experience the universe as a whole. One cannot analyze or dissect it into parts and comment on it without destroying its intrinsic character. Kunstwissenschaft, therefore, can never do more than skirt the fringes of art and works of art. It can never grasp art as such. This discipline may nevertheless appear indispensable to many because it provides access to the enjoyment of works of art. In the eyes of others it may be clothed with a special dignity reflected from the splendor of the objects of art themselves. Still others say that it cannot ever approach the specifically artistic. This too is true, although one is not therefore justified in looking down upon art historians and art history.

The position of science toward the other values of acting men is no different from that which it adopts toward aesthetic values. Here too science can do no more with respect to the values themselves than to record them and, at most, classify them as well. All that it can accomplish with the aid of “conception” relates to the means that are to lead to the realization of values, in short, to the rational behavior of men aiming at ends. History and sociology are not fundamentally different in this respect. The only distinction between them is that sociology, as a theoretical science, strives for universally valid laws of rational behavior, whereas history, employing these laws, presents the temporal course of human action. The subject matter of history is the historically given in its individuality. It must treat this with the means provided by theory, but as long as it does not overstep its bounds and attempt to prescribe values, history cannot exhaust the individuality of the given even with the help of “understanding.” History may, if one insists, be called a science of the irrational, but one must not forget that it is able to gain access to the irrational only by means of rational science. At the point where these means fail, history can succeed in nothing beyond the ascertainment of the irrational facts of the case through empathic understanding.

Understanding does not explain the individual, the personal, or the values given in experience, because it does not grasp their meaning by way of conception. It merely beholds them. Hence, as far as understanding is involved, there can be no progress in the historical sciences in the sense in which there is progress in the natural sciences or in sociology. There is progress in the historical sciences only as far as conception is involved; i.e., as far as improvement in the treatment of sources and more penetrating sociological cognition enable us to grasp the meaning of events better than was previously possible. Today, for instance, with the help of economic theory we are capable of comprehending the events of economic history in a way that was not available to the older historians. However, history must be repeatedly rewritten because the subjective element in the passing of time and the change in personalities again and again open up new vistas for the understanding.

This subjective element, which is always mixed in with understanding, is responsible for the fact that history can be written from a variety of points of view. There is a history of the Reformation from the Catholic standpoint and another from the Protestant standpoint. Only one who fails to recognize the fundamental differences that exist between conception and understanding, between sociology and history, will be prone to assume that these differences exist in the sphere of sociology as well and to contrast, for example, a German sociology to English sociology or a proletarian economics to bourgeois economics.

• *Translator’s note: The German term Kunstwissenschaft, which is used in the original, means a discipline that deals both with the history of art and with aesthetic evaluations of it.

It is completely erroneous to believe that the theories of catallactics can in any way be called into question by the assertion that they are merely “rational schemata.”5  I have already attempted elsewhere to set forth in detail the misunderstandings in regard to the logical character of modern economics that Max Weber fell into.6  As far as Sombart follows in his footsteps, all further comment is unnecessary.

Sombart, however, goes much further than Weber.

The concept of “exchange,” for example, says nothing whatever. It derives its “meaning” exclusively through its relation with the historical context in which the “exchange” takes place. “Exchange” in the primitive economy (silent barter), “exchange” in the handicraft economy, and “exchange” in the capitalist economy are things enormously different from one another.7  Price and price are completely different things from market to market. Price formation in the fair at Vera Cruz in the seventeenth century and in the wheat market on the Chicago Exchange in the year 1930 are two altogether incomparable occurrences.8

Yet even Sombart does not deny that there are universally valid concepts in economics. He distinguishes

three different kinds of economic concepts: 1. The universal-economic primary concepts . . . which are valid for all economic systems; 2. the historical-economic primary concepts . . . which . . . are valid only for a definite economic system; and 3. the subsidiary concepts . . . which are constructed with regard to a definite working idea.9

We need not consider this division in detail here. All that concerns us is the question whether the assignment of the concepts of exchange and price formation to the second group can be justified. Sombart gives no reason for it, unless one wants to see a reason in remarks like the following:

It would be absurd to assign the same tasks to chess-playing and to playing fox and geese. It is equally absurd to construct the same schemata for the self-sufficient household economy of a peasant and the economy of high capitalism.10

Even Sombart did not go so far as to assert that the word “exchange” when used in reference to primitive economy is nothing more than a homonym of the word “exchange” when used in reference to the capitalist economy, or that the word “price” when used in reference to the fair in Vera Cruz in the seventeenth century is nothing more than a homonym of the word “price” when used in reference to the Chicago Exchange in the year 1930; like, for example, “sole” in the sense of a fish and “sole” in the sense of the bottom part of a shoe. He speaks repeatedly of exchange, price, and price formation without further qualification, which would be completely absurd if they required to be distinguished from their homonyms. When he says, “A theory of the formation of markets must precede a theory of price formation,”11 this is itself a proposition valid for all price formation and thus contradicts his assertion: “The concept of, ‘exchange,’ for example, says nothing whatever.” If price formation and price formation really were “two altogether incomparable occurrences,” it would be just as absurd to assert this proposition as, for example, to assert a proposition supposedly valid for all soles—i.e., for all of a certain species of fish and for all bottom parts of shoes. Something, therefore, must be common to both occurrences. In fact, we even learn that there are “requirements of price formation” that arise “from the essential, the mathematical, and the rational conformity to law to which, of course, price formation is also subject.”12

If, however, it is established that unequivocal concepts are connoted by the terms “exchange,” “price,” and “price formation,” then it is of little avail to say that the concept itself involves “things enormously different from one another” and “altogether incomparable occurrences.” Such vague phrases are satisfactory only when their purpose is to point out that identically sounding words are used to express different concepts. But if we have one concept before us, we can proceed in no other way than by first precisely defining that concept and then seeing how far it reaches, what it includes, and what it does not comprehend. Sombart, however, is evidently a stranger to this procedure. He does not ask what exchange and price are. He unconcernedly employs these terms as everyday, unscientific usage presents them.

Fully imbued with the bitter resentment of the school of thought that was worsted in the Methodenstreit and, indeed, in all other scientific respects, Sombart speaks only in terms of contempt of the economic theory of marginal utility. This theory seeks to provide precise definitions for the concepts that he simply picks up as he finds them and makes use of without hesitation. It analyzes them and thereby explicates everything contained in them, purging them of all the unessential elements that imprecise reasoning may have mixed in with them. One cannot think about the concept of exchange without implicitly also thinking about everything that is taught by the economic theory of exchange. There is no exchange that conforms “more” to the law of marginal utility, and none that conforms “less.” There is “exchange,” and there is “nonexchange,” but there are no differences in degrees of exchange. Whoever misunderstands this has not taken the trouble to become acquainted with the work of the economic theory of the last thirty years.

If a traveler from the Germany of “high capitalism,” driven off his course to an island inhabited by primitive tribes, observes the strange behavior of the natives, which is at first incomprehensible and unintelligible to him, and suddenly realizes that they are “exchanging,” then he has “conceived” what is going on there, even though he may be familiar only with the exchange of “high capitalism.” When Sombart calls an occurrence in Vera Cruz in the seventeenth century an “exchange” and speaks of “price formation” in this exchange, he has employed the concepts of exchange and price formation to comprehend the meaning of this occurrence. In both cases the “rational schema” serves to make possible the comprehension of an event that otherwise cannot be grasped at all, either In conception or in understanding. Sombart must make use of this rational schema because otherwise he would be completely at a loss to deal with this event by reasoning. However, he wants to employ the rational schema only up to a certain point, so that he may avoid the inescapable logical consequences of using it, and does not see the significance of his procedure. Yet the “rational schema” is either to be employed or not to be employed. If one has decided to use it, one must accept all the consequences of this step. One must avail oneself of all that is contained in the concept.

Sombart alleges that only he—and, of course, his supporters?should be considered theorists “in the true sense.” The others—the “manufacturers of rational schemata”—can be styled “theorists” only in quotation marks.13  He reproaches these “theorists” with three deficiencies. In the first place, the majority of them have not “correctly grasped the meaning, of the schemata they have developed, owing to their own lack of real theoretical education.” They “considered them natural laws and, using them as a basis, constructed a system after the pattern of the natural sciences.”14  Inasmuch as in German philosophy, following Kant’s precedent, nomothetic science was equated with natural science, those who maintained the feasibility of a science of human action aiming at universally valid cognition had to classify this science as a natural science.15  But this did not influence the character and content of the scientific investigations they carried on.

The second fault that Sombart finds with the “theorists” is that they have produced “much too many and often much too complicated means of production”​—Sombart labels “schemata” as “means of production”—the use of which is “Impossible, and which are more of a hindrance than a help to the process of production (like, for example, a tractor on a farm for which it is not suited).”16  The metaphorical language that Sombart uses here diverts attention from the only important point at issue: either the theory is correct or it is incorrect. There cannot be too much of a correct theory. If the theory is correct, then neither can it also be “too complicated.” Whoever finds it so has only to replace it with a correct, yet simpler, theory. But Sombart does not attempt this at all. On the contrary. In another passage he reproaches the “theory” with being too simple: “Actual relationships can be so involved, and frequently are so involved, that a schema affords but little help.”17

Sombart’s third criticism of the “theorists” is that they have “frequently constructed inappropriate schemata, that is to say, means of production with which nothing can be done, machines that do not operate.” In this category he classes “in great part the theory of marginal utility, the very modest cognitive value of which has already been realized. However, this is not the place to substantiate this view more thoroughly.”18  Thus, the “theory” is incorrect because it is incorrect, and because one has already realized this fact. Sombart has yet to produce the substantiation of this assertion. He makes a value judgment concerning the theory of marginal utility. He himself has aptly pointed out what is to be thought of such value judgments.19

I have so often explained what political and economic ideals motivated the hostile view of theory taken by the interventionists and the socialists that I need not repeat my observations on this point.20  Moreover, an historical explanation enables us to understand the error involved here exclusively from an aspect that must appear as accidental when viewed from the standpoint of theoretical investigation. We can grasp Sombart’s misconception only on the basis of a strict logical examination of his reasoning.

In the case of no other opponent of catallactics are the political motives of this hostility so clearly evident as they are in that of Sombart. The frank acceptance of modem economic theory would fit much better than its rejection into the system of philosophy that he expounds in his most recent work. Nevertheless, a fiery temperament and a feeling of obligation to his own past convictions again and again make him unfaithful to his intention of conducting an investigation neutral with regard to value judgments. Sombart believes he has understood our “economic epoch” with its “economic system”—”modern capitalism”—from within. Can one who styles the age “whose culmination we are first experiencing” as the age “of means that are employed without sense and whose abundant and elaborate use finally imperceptibly becomes an end in itself”21  really make such a claim? Does not the fact that Sombart himself again and again calls rationalization the essence of this age stand in the most radical contradiction with it? Rationalism means the precise weighing of means and ends.

Sombart, of course, is enthusiastic about the Middle Ages. He holds the values that, in his opinion, were current during that era in particularly high esteem, Men, he thinks, have since then shifted their field of vision from the “eternal values to the things of this world.”22  Sombart finds this reprehensible. But can one say that, for this reason, means are employed “without sense”? They are?we do not wish to examine the matter further?employed perhaps in a different sense, but certainly not “without sense.” Even if it were true that their “abundant and elaborate use” has become an “end in itself,” a science neutral with regard to value judgments, which understands, but does not prescribe, would not be warranted in denying the “sense” of this end. It can judge the employment of means in the light of their expediency, i.e., from the point of view of their suitability for attaining the end that those who employ them want to attain; but it can never sit in judgment on the ends themselves.

In spite of the best of intentions, the inquirer who scorns the intellectual help that the “rational schemata” of economic theory can give him is all too prone to make valuations and to assume the role of a judge.

• 5Cf. Sombart, Die drei Nationalökonomien, p. 259.
• 66Cf. above pp. 75 ff. What has been said concerning the erroneous identification of “rational” and “correct” action (above all, on pp. 93 ff.) also contains the reply to Sombart’s arguments, Die drei Nationalökonomien, p. 261.
• 7Cf. Sombart, op. cit., p. 211.
• 8Op. cit., p. 305.
• 9Op. cit., p. 247.
• 10Op. cit., p. 301.
• 11Op. cit., p. 305.
• 12Ibid.
• 13Sombart, op. cit., p. 303.
• 14Ibid.
• 15Cf. above p. 118.
• 16Cf. Sombart, loc. cit., p. 303.
• 17Op. cit., p. 301.
• 18Op. cit., p. 304.
• 19Op. cit., pp. 289 f.
• 20Cf. above, p. 69; further, my Kritik des Interventionismus, pp. 24 ff., 68 ff.
• 21Cf. Sombart, Die drei Nationalökonomien, p. 87.
• 22<em>Op. cit</em>., p. 85.

In the last generation the Instinctive logic of the social sciences was confronted with two tasks. On the one hand, it had to show the distinctive peculiarity, the feasibility, and the necessity of history. On the other hand, it had to show not only that there is, but also how there can be, a science of human action that aims at universally valid cognition. There can be no doubt that a great deal has been accomplished for the solution of these two problems. That these solutions are not “final” or “definitive” is evident, for as long as the human mind does not stop thinking, striving, and inquiring, there is no such thing as “finality” and “definitiveness.”

The demand is repeatedly made by those who champion political ideals that cannot be defended by logical argumentation that thinking in the field of the social sciences be exempted from the regulative principles necessary to all other thinking. This is a matter with which scientific thought, which considers itself bound by these logical principles, is unable to concern itself.

When, more than a century ago, Sismondi appeared on the scene against Ricardo, he declared that political economy is no “science de calcul,” but a “science morale,” for which he enunciated the proposition: toute abstraction est toujours une déception.23  Neither Sismondi nor the many who have taken over this cliché have divulged to us the secret of how science could be pursued without abstract concepts. Today, the “living concept,” which has the power to take on new content, is recommended to us as the most recent product of the logic of the social sciences. In the programmatic declarations that introduce a new Zeitschrift für geistige und politische Gestaltung, issued by a circle of German university professors, we read:

Concepts are living only so long as they have the power to take on new content. Taking on new content does not mean shedding the old, nor does it mean breaking away from the sources that gave rise to the concept. Taking on new content means, on the contrary, the power of a concept, and through it the power of its source, to prove that it is able to overcome every threat of rigidity.24  That, using concepts of changeable content, one can argue excellently and can even concoct a system is certainly to be conceded. We “understand” very well the need of certain political parties for such makeshifts. However, the only thing that it concerns us to establish here is that this is not a need of scientific thought engaged in the cognition of social phenomena, but the need of political parties that are unable to justify their programs logically. Today these parties are striving for world dominion with good prospect of success. The masses follow them, the state has handed over all the schools to them, and the literati praise them to the skies. These facts make it all the more necessary to repeat the truism that there is only one logic and that all concepts are distinguished by the unequivocalness and immutability of their content.

• 23Sismondi, Nouveaux principes d’économie politique (Paris, 1819), I, 288.
• 24Cf. Paul Tillich, “Sozialismus,” Neue Blätter für Sozialismus (1930), I, 1.