There is a common naïve view among many conservatives — and other supporters of a bloated military establishment — that foreign policy is made as part of a rational process in which foreign threats are assessed, and then requests are made to Congress to fund projects that “keep America safe.” 

In a typical illustration of how the news media resorts to exaggeration and hyperbole in order to seem relevant, the national media promised us “chaos” and a traffic “nightmare” in cities and towns where a total eclipse could be viewed yesterday. 

Ever since entering the Senate, Rand Paul has continued his father’s work in advocating for an audit of the Federal Reserve. This week, writing for the Daily Caller, Senator Paul renewed his efforts, illustrating how the recent era of unconventional monetary policy has made an audit all the more important:

On Twitter, Ron Paul reacted to President Donald Trump’s speech last night calling for increasing US presence in Afghanistan. 

One of the leading policy guideposts for central banks and many monetary policy proponents nowadays is the idea of “inflation targeting.” Several major central banks around the world, including the Federal Reserve in the United States, have set a goal of two percent price inflation. The problem is, what central bankers are targeting is a phantom that does not exist.

Like me, many of you watched President Trump’s train wreck of a speech on Afghanistan earlier tonight. It’s nearly midnight and I am still reeling.

China’s rise to the status of global economic power has invited enormous interest in its cultural and political heritage. Historians tend to be fascinated by China’s erratic economic progress and rich history of innovation, each of which have, at different times, both outpaced and lagged behind developments in Western Europe. In particular, many questions surround the reasons for China’s “great divergence”—why Western Europe industrialized and China did not.

Murray Rothbard has been gone more than 20 years now, his brilliance, wit, and irreplaceable insights taken from us far too soon. At home in New York City over a Christmas break from his teaching duties at the University of Nevada, Rothbard accompanied his beloved wife Joey to her optometrist appointment on a bitterly cold day. A few moments later, on January 7th 1995, he was gone — lost to heart failure at the age of 68.