jueves, 30 de agosto de 2018

Luis Saravia de la Calle 1544

Luis Saravia de la Calle

  • Su obra más importante fue Instrucción de mercaderes (1544).
  • Grice Hutchinson afirma que su trabajo tuvo enorme repercusión cuando fue traducido al italiano, en 1561.
  • El escolástico censura en él cualquier tipo de teoría del valor basada en el coste de producción, insistiendo en que los factores que determinan que el precio varíe son la demanda, la utilidad y la escasez del mismo.
  • “El precio justo surge de la abundancia o escasez de bienes, mercaderes y dinero, como se ha dicho, y no de los costes, trabajo y riesgo”.
  • Grice Hutchinson afirma: “Saravia niega con gran vehemencia que los costes de producción puedan jugar algún papel en la determinación del precio. Considera al hombre pobre no como productor, sino como consumidor”.
  • Saravia era un especialista en el mundo de la banca.
  • No veía como algo moralmente bueno que el banquero se apropiase del dinero depositado a la vista por el depositario.
  • Defendía que los bancos poseyesen el 100% del coeficiente de caja.

miércoles, 29 de agosto de 2018

NASSAU WILLIAM SENIOR

Senior’s ‘last hour’: suggested explanation of a famous blunder J. Bradford DeLong I In 1837 Nassau Senior-Drummond Professor of Political Economy at Oxford-published his Letters on the Factory Act. These were an exercise in applied economics: Senior tried to show that the effects of the thenexisting Child Labour Law were bad and that the effects of the proposed Ten Hours Act would be worse.’ Not only would the regulation of working hours interfere with the workers’ freedom to make whatever contracts they wished with employers, but the regulation of working hours would also destroy substantial parts of the British cotton textile industry. In his analysis Senior commits an analytical blunder. By failing to recognize that a reduction in total labor input (hours worked) will in general entail a reduction in the total amount of working capital, he concludes that all of the profits of British cotton mills are produced “in the last hour’’ of the workday. Therefore, according to Senior, a reduction in the length of the working day from the then-current 11 Vi hours to 10 hours would either bankrupt the industry or else reduce the wages of workers to “the Irish standard .” * A decade later the Ten Hours Act passed. The British cotton textile industry did not go bankrupt. Senior’s pamphlet, written for the particular occasion, dropped into obscurity-although not without providing Marx an opportunity to rage against the Vulgar Economist Seni~r.~ ButSenior’s Letters on the Factory Act remain interesting for the magnitude and apparent obviousness of the analytical blunder committed. It seems that anyone 

martes, 14 de agosto de 2018

Murray Rothbart Inteview

Any recent thoughts on hermeneutics?
MNR: That’s a history-of-thought question, since hermeneutics has been crushed by Hans-Hermann Hoppe and David Gordon. Part of their critique is that the hermeneuticists were unable to demonstrate in concrete terms how this new “turn” would improve our understanding of economics. But if they hadn’t been challenged, they could have carried on for years.
AEN: The initial attraction to hermeneutics was Mises’s link with certain rationalist phenomenologists. What parts of this link do you like and dislike?
MNR: The link was Alfred Schütz. He was a free-market phenomenologist and an anti-positivist. He did excellent work attacking the positivists for dismissing minds in favor of experiments. He would then point out that you need minds to conduct and verify the experiments. Before this, Brentano was pretty close to Menger and the Austrians. The Brentanoites taught logic, reason, the science of human action, affirmed that values exist, and pursued an objective analysis of subjectivity. The thoughts of Dilthey, Windelbrand, Ricket, and Weber are useful for historical analysis, but not economic theory – Verstehen not Begreifen. In the pursuit of subjectivism, you cannot throw out science and reason. As phenomenology developed, with few exceptions, it became irrationalist and collectivist. Mises was always clear: its proponents don’t understand economics.
The good parts of phenomenology are already a part of the Austrian tradition, as I pointed out in my article on praxeology for the Natanson volumes, Phenomenology and the Social Sciences. The other economist, John O’Neill, who wrote for the volume produced pure irrationalist gabble. And there was little else useful in those two volumes. Kirzner was also asked to contribute to this volume, but he turned it down, opining that Misesians should have nothing to do with phenomenology. I guess I was trying to be outreachy.
AEN: What is your view of Hayek’s statement that all progress in economics has been in the direction of subjectivism?
MNR: It’s true, but it hasn’t been an upward climb. Early economic theory was rooted in the Italian, French, and Spanish traditions, which were subjectivist oriented. Then it shifted onto the terrible path by Smith and Ricardo and the British classical tradition, which is “objectivist” – values are inherent in production. There was a partial shift back to subjectivism, but it was blocked by Marshall. Mises brought back the subjective-value tradition, with time-preference, ordinal marginal utility, and all the rest. That’s fine, but don’t wipe out objective analysis. There is still a real world out there, with laws of cause and effect, and physical products being evaluated by people. Through all this, we’ve discovered that being anti-positivist is not enough. Subjectivism is not an absolute principle; it is a necessary but not sufficient condition for sound methodology.
AEN: Positivism was linked to socialism and interventionism. Do you now predict its decline?
MNR: It is difficult to say. It was central to socialism and planning in the same way praxeology is central to the free market. Positivism eliminates any kind of natural law principle – for example, that there are economic laws which can be transgressed only at your peril. With positivism, there is a tendency to leap into ad hoc economic theory.
By the time Friedman had written his famous article defending positivism, this view had already been rejected in philosophy. But it fastened on economics with an iron grip for about twenty years. This is fairly typical. By the time methods are transferred from one discipline to another, they have often been rejected by the original discipline. It is time for economics to throw out all analogies to the physical sciences.
AEN: How did Man, Economy, and State come to be?
MNR: It ended up totally different from the way it started. After Mises had written Human Action, the Volker Fund – which promoted classical liberal and libertarian scholarship – was looking for a college textbook that would boil it down and spell it out. Mises hardly knew me at the time, since I had just started attending his seminar. I wrote a sample chapter, “Money: Free and Unfree.” They showed it to Mises and he gave his endorsement. I then received a many-year grant to work on it. I thought it was going to be a textbook. But it grew and grew. New material kept coming in. As I kept going, I found ideas Mises had left out, or steps that were implicit in Mises that needed to be spelled out.
I gave periodic reports to the Volker Fund. Finally they asked me: “Look, is this going to be a textbook or a treatise?” When I delivered a 1,900-page manuscript, they knew the answer. Power and Market was the final chapter called “The Economics of Violent Intervention.” They asked me to cut it out because it was too radical. It was published separately years later by the Institute for Humane Studies.
AEN: Did you write the book in sequence?
MNR: Yes. I started with page one with methodology and it wrote itself.
AEN: Did anything get left out of the final book?
MNR: I took Chapter 5 out of Man, Economy, and State, which included the usual cost-curve analysis. I wrote the whole chapter before I realized that the approach I was taking was nonsense. So I started over.
AEN: Is there any doubt that Mises was your primary influence?
MNR: I didn’t think so, but Joseph Salerno once gave a talk in which he said Man, Economy, and State is more Boehm-Bawerk-oriented than Mises’s Human Action. I never thought of it that way, but it may be true. When I was spelling out capital theory, I used Boehm-Bawerk primarily. I didn’t think about it since I thought Mises was a Boehm-Bawerkian and didn’t see any contradiction. I would like to see Professor Salerno explore this. It’s an example of the way a historian of economic thought can show something about a person’s work that he himself didn’t realize.
AEN: How many years were involved from the time you started working on Man, Economy, and State to the time it was published?
MNR: This is complicated. I received the grant in 1952, but shortly afterwards I had to finish my doctoral thesis under Arthur Burns. From 1953 to 1956 I was working partly on both. I finally finished Man, Economy, and Statein 1960 and it was published in 1962.
AEN: How was your dissertation, The Panic of 1819, received?
MNR: Very well. In fact, much better than any other of my books. Maybe that’s because I didn’t analyze the causes. I only wrote about how people wanted to cure it. I could have done much more work on it, and there is still more to say, but I am still pleased with it, Plus, it is still the only book on the subject.
AEN: Were scholars anticipating the publication of MES?
MNR: Not really. Very few were even interested, except the Mises-seminar people and FEE-people like Larry Fertig and Henry Hazlitt. Most were non-economists or friends and admirers of Mises. They were caterers, lawyers, clothing manufacturers. Other than Kirzner, Spadaro, Sennholz, Raico, Reisman, and the Greaves, there was no Austrian movement to speak of.
AEN: Did you ever get discouraged and say, “Why am I doing this?"
MNR: No. Any chance to write a book or meet new people was terrific, but I was lonely. Mises was in his sixties, Hayek and Machlup were in their fifties, and I was in my twenties. There was nobody in between. With the possible exception of Baldy Harper, who was a libertarian, but whose Austrian knowledge was limited, there was a missing generation. It had been wiped out by the New Deal.
AEN: If we do an “It’s a Wonderful Life” experiment – the state of Austrian economics without Man, Economy, and State – it looks pretty grim.
MNR: That’s an interesting point. Of the economists, Sennholz became a real-estate speculator, Spadaro didn’t write much, Reisman became a Ricardian, and Hayek had drifted into murky philosophy and teaching social thought. Kirzner was doing good work on entrepreneurship, but nobody was doing methodology, monetary theory, capital theory, or much else.
AEN: What were your thoughts on Mises’s review of MES when it appeared in the New Individualist Review?
MNR: I liked it, but he didn’t say much about the book. I would have preferred him to go into more depth.
AEN: Was he bothered by some of your corrections of his theories?
MNR: I don’t know because he never said. Mises and I had only two friendly arguments. One was on monopoly theory where he wound up calling me a Schmollerite. Although nobody else in the seminar realized it, that was the ultimate insult for an Austrian. The other argument was on his utilitarian refutation of government intervention. I argued that government officials can maximize their own well-being through economic interventionism, if not that of the public. He in turn argued that those kind of politicians wouldn’t survive a popular vote, thus changing the terms of the debate.
AEN: Mrs. Mises seems to think you had foreign policy differences with Mises.
MNR: In all the years I attended his seminar and was with him, he never talked about foreign policy. If he was an interventionist on foreign affairs, I never knew it. This is a violation of Rothbard’s law, which is that people tend to specialize in what they are worst at. Henry George, for example, is great on everything but land, so therefore he writes about land 90% of the time. Friedman is great except on money, so he concentrates on money. Mises, however, and Kirzner too, always did what they were best at.
AEN: Did Hayek ever attend Mises’s seminar in the United States?
MNR: No. They had a very strange relationship. Hayek began making very arcane anti-Misesian comments in his books, but nobody knew it, not even Mises. For example, it turns out that the anti-Walras footnote in Individualism and Economic Order was really an anti-Mises footnote, as Hayek admitted a few years later. When Mises read the article, he called Hayek up and said he liked it as an attack on formalism and equilibrium. He hadn’t realized that some of it was directed against him. Gradually, Hayek became more and more anti-Misesian without actually refuting what he had to say. Yet Mises and Hayek are still linked in academic minds.
AEN: What happened in the twelve years between MES and the Hayek Noble Prize?
MNR: Very little. There were various informal meetings, with Walter Block, and R.J, Smith, who went through a period of leftism, but is doing good work again. During the fifties, we had a whole group in New York, but it disbanded when Hamowy, Raico, and Liggio went to graduate school.
There was another group coming up in the sixties, students of Robert LeFevre’s Freedom School and later Rampart College. At one meeting, Friedman and Tullock were brought in for a week, I had planned to have them lecture on occupational licensing and on ocean privatization, respectively. Unfortunately, they spoke on these subjects for 30 minutes and then rode their hobby horses, monetary theory and public choice, the rest of the time. I immediately clashed with Friedman. He had read my America’s Great Depression and was furious that he was suddenly meeting all these Rothbardians. He didn’t know such things existed.
AEN: What happened to the Volker Fund?
MNR: The Volker Fund collapsed in 1972 and destroyed the whole basis of libertarian scholarship. The president was a follower of R.J. Rushdoony, who at the time was a pre-milleniallist Calvinist, later converting to postmillenialism. He had sent me a Rushdoony book, which I blasted. Combined with other reviews, he became convinced that he was surrounded by an atheist, anarchist, pacifist conspiracy to destroy Christianity, so he closed down the Volker Fund in early 1962. It was a great tragedy. IHS was supposed to be established with the $17 million from the Volker Fund to be an endowed think-tank, publishing books, sponsoring students, funding research, and holding conferences. Instead, Baldy had to start it from the bottom.
AEN: How did Ethics of Liberty come about?
MNR: I received a Volker Fund grant to write it. It was supposed to be a reconciliation of libertarianism with conservative culture and personal ethics, what is called paleolibertarianism today. But as I worked on it, it turned into an anarcho-libertarian treatise. By the early sixties, conservatives had become pro-war and the whole idea of reconciling us with them had lost its attraction for me.
AEN: What about Conceived in Liberty?
MNR: After the Volker Fund collapsed, I got another grant from the Lilly Endowment to do a history of the U.S., which I worked on from 1962-66. The original idea was to take the regular facts and put a libertarian assessment on everything. But once I started to work on it, I found many facts had been left out, like tax rebellions. So it got longer and longer. It turned into the five volume Conceived in Liberty, covering the Colonial period to the Constitution. I don’t chart this stuff in advance. I don’t like to work that way. I go step by step and it keeps getting longer. After Arlington House published volume four, they went out of business. Volume five, on the Constitution, was written in longhand and no one can read my handwriting.
AEN: What about conferences during the early seventies?
MNR: The first was conducted at Cornell, the summer of 1973. Forrest McDonald and myself were giving papers. At the 1974 conference, we added Garrison, Rizzo, O’Driscoll, Salerno, Ebeling, Hutt, Grinder, and others. It was held in a tiny town in Vermont, which we called a Walrasian-General-Equilibrium town because there was no action, no competition, no interest rates. In 1976, we had a wonderful conference at Windsor Castle, but after that there was nothing.
AEN: Just so that we’re clear, between the 1940s and the early 1970s, you were the only one that did serious scholarly work in Austrian economics?
MNR: Well, Henry Hazlitt did some excellent work. But then he was uncredentialed. Hutt did some, but it wasn’t really Austrian. Kirzner had written some serious articles. But basically the tradition had stagnated. By the late seventies, Austrian economics was considered Hayekian, not Misesian. Without the founding of the Mises Institute, I am convinced the whole Misesian program would have collapsed.
AEN: How is your history-of-thought book coming?
MNR: Fine. The first thinker I deal with is Aristotle, but I don’t spend much time on the Greeks. I leap to the early Christians. Economic theory became pretty advanced in the Middle Ages and only started falling apart later. Most history of thought assumes linear growth. But I am trying to show that there is slippage.
Unfortunately, there is a hole in my book. I got to the English mercantilists and Francis Bacon, which took me to 1620, but then bogged down and leaped ahead. This summer I am going to repair the hole. Aside from the hole, I have just finished the laissez-faire French school. The next step is cover the pre-Austrians of the mid-19th century.
AEN: There seems to be this lengthening pattern in your projects.
MNR: Maybe so. What is happening to my history of thought is the same thing that happened to Man, Economy, and State and Conceived in Liberty. It was originally going to be a short book on the history of thought, taking the same people the orthodox people do, reversing the judgment, and giving the Austrian view. Unfortunately I couldn't do that since Smith was not the beginning of economics. I had to start with Aristotle and the Scholastics and work up. I found more and more people that couldn’t be left out.
AEN: How many volumes have been done so far?
MNR: I can never estimate things like this, but probably two or more. And I keep underestimating how much work I have to do. I thought I could finish off Marx in one chapter, but it took five. So I cannot give a projected date for finishing.
AEN: You have apparently taken an interest in religion as it affects the history of thought.
MNR: Religion was dominant in the history of thought at least through Marshall. The Scholastics emerged out of Catholic doctrine. And John Locke was a Protestant Scholastic. I am convinced that Smith, who came from a Calvinist tradition, skewed the whole theory of value by emphasizing labor pain, typical of a Puritan. The whole objective cost tradition grew out of that.
AEN: Why has all this been overlooked?
MNR: Because the 20th century is the century of atheistic, secularist intellectuals. When I was growing up, anyone who was religious was considered slightly wacky or even unintelligent. That was the basic attitude of all intellectuals. This is the opposite of earlier centuries’ attitudes when everyone was religious.
The anti-religious bias even shows up in the interpretations of the history of art, for example, in the secularist and positivist interpretation of Renaissance painting. When Jesus is painted as a real person, they assume that means it is a secular work, whereas the real point of the Renaissance was to emphasize the Incarnation, when God became flesh. Even if art historians aren’t interested in theology, they should realize that the people they study were. The same is true for economics. In doing history, you cannot read your own values into the past.
AEN: The anti-socialist revolution seems to be the fulfillment of everything Austrians have worked for.
MNR: That’s right. We are living through revolutionary times. It’s like living through the French or American revolution and being able to watch it on television every night. Now the difference between the United States and the Eastern Bloc is that the United States still has a communist party.
AEN: It also seems to be a vindication for your article, “Left, Right, and the Prospects for Liberty.”
MNR: Damn right. Western conservatives cannot take credit for this. They had always argued that socialist totalitarianism could not reform from within. Only the libertarians considered and gloried in the possibility.
AEN: Did you see the seeds of anti-socialist revolt when you visited Poland several years ago?
MNR: Yes. In the first year I attended, several dissident Marxists were there. But the next year, the organizers said they didn’t need them. We went expecting dissident socialists and we found followers of Hayek, Friedman, Mises, and Rothbard. The economists and journalists that I met with had read many of my books and were publishing underground books on free markets.
AEN: Now that Marxism is dead where it has been tried, is there anything that is useful and important that should be remembered or kept?
MNR: There is one good thing about Marx: he was not a Keynesian. I recently asked Yuri Maltsev, former Soviet economist, why is it that things seem to have fallen apart so rapidly in the Soviet Union in the last twenty years. He said in the last twenty years, the leaders of the Soviet Union have relaxed the money supply and have used inflation to solve short-term problems. That spelled doom for the system.
AEN: What about the prospects for liberty and a freer economy in this country?
MNR: Everything is getting worse, and very rapidly. Few favor central planning, but the battleground has shifted to interventionism. There are three areas of interventionism which are the big issues, now and in the future. First, prohibitionism and the attempt to eliminate all risk. If, for example, automobiles cause accidents, they should be eliminated. Second, egalitarianism and the idea that victim groups should get special treatment for the next 2,000 years for previous oppression. Third, environmentalism or antihumanism. The implicit idea is that man is the lowest creature and every creature or inanimate thing has rights.
AEN: How are things in Vegas?
MNR: Great. Every semester we get more students, and the Austrians are at the top of their classes. We have a Human Action study group. I’m teaching a graduate seminar in Austrian economics this term and Hoppe will be teaching a seminar in the spring.
AEN: What area of Austrian economics is most and least advanced?
MNR: Methodologically, we are pretty advanced, thanks to the work of Hoppe. But we can always use more since that is what sets us apart from the rest of the profession. And Salerno is doing great work on calculation.
Banking theory, however, has taken a very bad turn with free banking. We have to show that this is the Currency and Banking school argument rehashed. They have adopted the Banking school doctrine, that the needs of business require an expansion of the money supply and credit. Moreover, the free banking people violate the basic Ricardian doctrine that every supply of money is optimal. Once a market in a money is established, there is no longer a need for more money. That is really the key point.
AEN: What about the argument that 100% reserves requires government intervention?
MNR: I regard fractional-reserve banking as an intervention in the free market, just as any crime against person and property is intervention. In the case of banking, the government is allowing the crime to be committed.
But how do we address the needs of trade argument, those who say that business has a demand for credit? Well, there are many things demanded on the market that are also crimes. There may be a demand for killing redheads. And there is certainly a demand for government loot. What’s so great about market demand? If it is not within a framework of nonaggression, there will always be a demand for fraud and theft.
The free bankers accept a kind of David Friedmanite anarchism, where there is no law, only people engaging in exchange and buying people out. If you have a group that wants to kill redheads, the redheads will have to buy them off if they value their hair. I think this is monstrous; that kind of anarchism would indeed be chaos. Just because there is a demand for something doesn’t mean it should be fulfilled.
AEN: One of the criticisms of this position is that it is normative and not economic.
MNR: Yes, but the response to 100% reserves is that bank entrepreneurs have the right to offer whatever fraction of deposits they want, which is also a normative position. Any discussion of policy is inherently normative. You can’t have free markets unless you have property rights.
AEN: Why isn’t private deposit insurance viable?
MNR: The same reason insuring any bankrupt industry isn’t viable. You cannot insure entrepreneurs because they engage in uninsurable risk. You can reasonably predict how many fires there will be in New York; the unlucky few who get burned can dip into the pool of resources. But entrepreneurship is heterogeneous; it is completely unpredictable, and each attempt is nonrandom. The entrepreneurs assume the risk. If an insurance company insures it, it becomes the entrepreneur. Who then insures the insurer? In the case of banks, either they don’t need insurance, since they are 100% covered, or they are uninsurable because they are taking entrepreneurial risk.
AEN: You have been critical of White’s book on free banking.
MNR: The White book says the Scottish banking system was more successful than the English system. But he doesn’t say one word about prices, inflation, or business cycles. His only statistic is that there were fewer bank failures in Scotland than Britain. But what’s so great about not having failures? An industry that doesn’t have failures might be doing poorly. What if we applied this test to the Soviet Union, where no industries fail?
When you say one banking system is more successful than another, it seems the test should be less inflation and fewer business cycles. Yet this is never mentioned.
AEN: What role do you think RAE is playing?
MNR: It is finding and gathering Austrian economists, getting them to write, and developing economic doctrine. Kluwer Academic Publishers is very excited about it. They wanted to bring the journal out three times a year. Now that we are coming out twice a year, many more people are interested. It is already the only Austrian academic journal in the history of thought and it has become the most important publishing medium. Kluwer is also publishing a series of books in Austrian economics, for which we are the general editors.
AEN: What should young Austrians be concentrating on?
MNR: Adding to the theoretical edifice. Rent theory is underdeveloped. And the theory of the transition from socialism to capitalism is crying out for more work. Most importantly, we should never stop refuting mainstream economics.

domingo, 12 de agosto de 2018

Simeón García de Olalla de la Riva

Simeón García Olalla de la Riva nació  en Logroño en 1823 y muere  en Alcoy o 31 de mayo de 1889[1], fue un empresario gallego.

Traxectoria


Llego  a Santiago de Compostela en 1845 con 22 anos onde estaba establecido o seu irmán maior, Timoteo dedicado al comercio textil . Cuando en 1854 morreu o seu irmán, Simeón tomou as rendas do negocio e tres anos despois fundou o Banco Simeón. Casou en 1866 con Juana Blanco Navarrete. Despois ampliou o seu radio de acción a outras cidades españolas como Barcelona. Os seus fillos coa denominación Viuda e Hijos de Simeón García, continuaron a actividade creando casas comerciais en Madrid, Burgos, León, Santander, Oviedo, Pontevedra e Lugo. Logo do falecemento dos fillos varóns continuou á fronte do negocio a súa filla Isabel García Blanco, que casara co comerciante Acisclo Sáenz Díaz.

Almacenes Simeón

En 1931, el imperio fundado por Simeón García seis décadas atrás se hallaba en plena expansión. Sus herederos habían conquistado las principales ciudades gallegas y ocupado plazas exteriores como Oviedo, Santander, Madrid o Bilbao.


A Vigo llegó la primera avanzadilla en 1885, enrolada como socio comanditario en la firma Castro y Compañía, y se consolidó en 1911 con la apertura de su emblemático establecimiento de la Porta do Sol. Un palacio comercial que ahora contemplan, maravillados, don Néstor y doña Clotilde.
En cuanto traspasan la puerta del Hotel Moderno donde se alojan, los dos indianos evalúan la transformación experimentada por el espacio urbano en sus treinta años de ausencia. Sigue en pie el edificio que alberga a La Villa de París, pero ahora flanqueado por otras magníficas edificaciones. A un lado, un repóquer de casonas que incluye los edificios de Pardo Labarta y la casa de Ledo. Y del otro, apenas separado de La Villa de París por la angosta calle del Doctor Cadaval, el majestuoso edificio de los Almacenes Simeón. Un conjunto de siete joyas arquitectónicas, diseñadas todas ellas por Jenaro de la Fuente Domínguez, con la salvedad parcial del edificio Simeón, proyectado por los hermanos Benito y Manuel Gómez Román, pero ampliado y remozado en 1930 también por Jenaro de la Fuente.
ATMÓSFERA PARISINA
En la Porta do Sol se respiran aires parisinos. La huella francesa se percibe en el estilo ecléctico de las edificaciones, pero se hace aún más evidente en la nomenclatura de los establecimientos comerciales que se apiñan en la plaza. Además de La Villa de París, abundan los nombres de origen galo: los almacenes Maison de Blanc, el hostal Petit Fornos, la tienda de alta costura El Louvre o el salón de belleza La Maison de la Coiffure, donde un cartel anuncia que «on parle français».
Impronta francesa también en los Almacenes Simeón, como constatan don Néstor y doña Clotilde en cuanto penetran en la «catedral del comercio gallego», definición que aquellos días les adjudicaba El Pueblo Gallego. Al matrimonio lo recibe el gerente del establecimiento, Darío Sáez Sáenz-Díez, afable guía ligado a la casa desde que su hermano Acisclo contrajo matrimonio con una hija del fundador del imperio. El encuentro tiene lugar en el imponente salón de la entrada, abrazado en su parte superior por galerías ribeteadas con artísticas barandillas. Toda la decoración, forjada en espléndidas cristalerías y madera de roble y caoba, recuerda «un estilo afrancesado, Luis XIV», dice la prensa. Haces de luz, disparados por varios proyectores hacia la techumbre, resaltaban la magnificencia del local. El refinamiento del comercio, dice el anfitrión y asienten los visitantes, no le va a la zaga del que hacen gala los almacenes El Siglo, de Barcelona, o Printemps, de París.
Barcelona y Alcoy son los principales centros proveedores de telas para los Almacenes Simeón, pero la casa se surte también en Mánchester, Londres, La Rioja y diversas zonas de Francia. Tenemos, se jacta Sáez, «lo mejor de cada nación».
Dispone el establecimiento vigués de noventa empleados -el grupo cuenta, a esas alturas, con una plantilla de casi un millar de personas-, que en ese momento se afanan en atender a un grupo de ingenieros japoneses, interesados en el funcionamiento de una máquina. Estalla entonces una carcajada general y Darío Sáez, solícito, explica a don Néstor y a doña Clotilde lo que acaba de suceder: «Dice uno de los ingenieros, con la sobriedad expresiva de un inglés, que ha sentido tentación de preguntar a una de las máquinas hiladoras: ¿No siente usted fatigado su cerebro por su complicada labor?».
EL FUNDADOR DEL IMPERIO
Ahora son los indianos quienes se interesan por conocer la maquinaria humana que gestó el imperio. La génesis del grupo, explica Darío Sáez, tiene nombre propio: el de Simeón García Olalla de la Riva. Procedía de la villa riojana de Ortigosa de Cameros y llegó a Santiago de Compostela en 1835 a trabajar de dependiente. Tenía doce años de edad. Al cumplir los veintidós había ahorrado 13.000 reales y entraba como socio minoritario en la firma Jorge de la Riva y García, dedicada a la comercialización de productos textiles al por mayor. Dos décadas después se convirtió en propietario único de la compañía.
En 1872, junto con dos empleados, constituye la empresa matriz del futuro emporio. Nace Simeón García y Compañía, con sede en Santiago de Compostela, que tiene por objeto social «la compra y venta de toda clase de tejidos del Reino y extranjeros». Comienza la conquista de la Galicia urbana, siguiendo una estrategia que pasa por establecer en cada ciudad alianzas con los empresarios locales: Ourense (1879), Vilagarcía (1882), A Coruña (1884)... En 1885, tres años antes de su muerte, Simeón García coloca un pie en Vigo y se convierte en socio comanditario de la firma Castro y Compañía. El fundador fallece a los 65 años, pero la expansión continúa. Primero su viuda, Juana Blanco Navarrete, y después sus hijos -Jacobo, Manuel, Timoteo e Isabel-, capitanean nuevas incursiones por el territorio español: Oviedo, Santander, Ferrol, Pontevedra, Lugo, Madrid, Sarria, Bilbao...
LA CATEDRAL DEL COMERCIO
A la conquista de Vigo destina Hijos de Simeón García a uno de sus generales más avezados: Acisclo Sáez Sáenz-Díez. También camerano y yerno del fundador, se propone crear, con el concurso de sus hermanos, los primeros grandes almacenes de la ciudad olívica. Adquieren para tal fin el teatro Rosalía de Castro, que atravesaba graves dificultades financieras, pero desisten del empeño ante el revuelo causado en la ciudad. Revenden el inmueble al filántropo José García Barbón y, a cambio, el Ayuntamiento les proporciona un terreno en la Porta do Sol. Y será en este solar, antes escenario del tradicional mercado que don Néstor y doña Clotilde retienen en la memoria, donde se pusieron los cimientos de la «catedral del comercio gallego». Un templo que, a decir de El Pueblo Gallego, ofrece todo «cuanto pueda adquirirse en la opulencia parisina o neoyorquina», incluidas pieles raras, encajes que semejan bordados de espuma, damascos orientales o telas fastuosas de novísimo diseño

Calle de Cameros

Logroño. Al lujoso Palacio de la Música de Barcelona (el 'Palau' o el 'Orfeó', en catalán) se llegaba durante muchos años tras atravesar Cameros. No era la sierra riojana, ni mucho menos, sino una pequeña y céntrica vía que rodeaba el centro de los placeres mundanos de la pudiente burguesía catalana. La calle desembocaba, al norte, en la de Ortigosa, dejando dos portales ubicados en la confluencia de Ortigosa y Cameros. Demasiadas casualidades para un callejero tan estructurado como el de Barcelona.
Pero todo tiene su explicación. En 1890, en pleno desarrollo urbano de la ciudad condal, el Ayuntamiento necesitaba unos terrenos para dar paso a la recién construida vía Layetana y a la calle Trafalgar. Y esos predios pertenecían a la familia de Simeón García de Olalla y de la Riva (él omitía siempre su primer apellido), un ortigosano que había fallecido el año anterior.

A los 12 años, en 1845, García de la Riva había emigrado a Galicia desde su Ortigosa natal. Santiago de Compostela era, en esa época, imán para cameranos que se convirtieron en los motores de la industria y la economía de la región. Acogido por unos familiares, comenzó a trabajar en un comercio de la ciudad. Pero sus inquietudes saltaron pronto el mostrador. A los 22 años, tras el fallecimiento de su hermano Timoteo y con el dinero ahorrado después de mucho esfuerzo, entró a formar parte de la compañía Jorge de la Riva y García, sociedad dedicada a la compra de géneros textiles. Fue el primer paso de una larga carrera. Simeón García arriesgó en momentos difíciles y, en 1866, se hizo con todo el negocio, como recoge la investigadora María Jesús Facal en 'Los orígenes del Banco Simeón'.
El negocio de paños compostelano fue creciendo y abriéndose a toda Galicia, bajo la batuta del ortigosano, siempre dispuesto a innovar y a asociarse con más empresarios para avivar la llama del comercio. Así, las ramas del negocio comienzan a llegar a Alcoy y, hacia Barcelona, en 1877. Pero, al mismo tiempo, el riojano también fue dando forma a una banca privada, algo común a finales del siglo XIX. Simeón García de la Riva y su esposa, Juana Blanco Navarrete, habían empezado un negocio que iba a prolongarse más de un siglo, sumando generaciones (hasta cinco) y diversificando riesgos. Ya no sólo se trataba de vender paños, fabricarlos o exportarlos, ni de recibir y prestar dinero. También entraron en el mundo de la alimentación, el agua, la hostelería, la venta al por menor...
Negocios múltiples
Juana Blanco, a la muerte de su marido, se puso junto a sus hijos al frente de los negocios (múltiples y casi siempre con distintos asociados, muchos de ellos también de origen riojano como había sido Jorge de la Riva o catalanes, como José Nieto). Los Almacenes Simeón de Madrid se abrieron en 1923 convirtiéndose en el primer negocio de ese tipo en España, copiando modelos anglosajones. Bajo ese nombre, pero años después, llegarían a Logroño, donde perduraron en la calle Portales hasta 1986 aportando elitismo a una ciudad de provincias. También el Banco Simeón, después de un imponente desarrollo, acabó en el Banco Exterior después de la intervención de la empresa matriz Hijos de Simeón García.
Fueron los estertores de una empresa centenaria y que siempre mantuvo una enorme devoción por su creador, un hombre avezado para los negocios y solidario con sus vecinos de Ortigosa, tierra que añoraba. Esa querencia fue la que, en 1890, llevó a su esposa y a sus hijos a acordar, tras una dura negociación, a incluir la cláusula de 'bautismo' de las calles en el contrato de cesión de los terrenos. El Ayuntamiento de Barcelona aceptó. Una se llamaría Ortigosa de Cameros (el Consistorio decidió recortarlo a Ortigosa) y la otra, Cameros.
El compromiso se rompió en 1940 cuando la Corporación surgida del franquismo sustituyó el nombre de la sierra por el del músico catalán Amadeo Vives, autor de zarzuelas como Doña Francisquita, lo que no sentó nada bien a la familia García. Pero protestar no estaba permitido.
Pese a todo, 126 años después, Ortigosa sigue luciendo en el callejero barcelonés y exhibiendo en sus aceras algunos retales de la historia industrial de la ciudad, como los preciosos almacenes modernistas de Serra Balet o los detalles del vuelo del zepelín Graf sobre Barcelona, en 1929, un relieve obra de Sixte Illescas. Guiños de una historia construida por el amor de un emigrante hacia su pueblo.

Carrrer de Ortigosa Barcelona

La respuesta se haya en el lejano final del siglo XIX cuando lo que hoy es una calle no era mas que un terreno sin urbanizar. En ese lugar se quería construir un acceso a la recién creada Vía Layetana. El terreno pertenecía a una opulenta familia que cedió la propiedad tras una negociación que incluyo el que la nueva calle fuera bautizada con un nombre escogido por la familia.
Esa costumbre era muy habitual en la época, lo que lleno el nomenclátor con numerosos apellidos sin relevancia histórica. El caso que nos ocupa fue diferente, los propietarios eran la viuda e hijos del dueño del Banco Simeón (Hoy Caixa Geral) un empresario textil llamado Simeón Gárcia de la Riva, fallecido en 1889 al que su familia decidió homenajear poniendo el nombre del pueblo en el que había nacido, consiguiendo así que la pequeña y siempre añorada Ortigosa de Cameros fuera inmortalizada para siempre en Barcelona.

El Simeon y el Olimpio Perez

Si el Olimpio Pérez se convirtió en un referencia para los comerciantes, el Simeón era el del sector textil. El fundador de la saga Simeón fue García de Olalla y de la Riva, que emigró desde La Rioja a Santiago en 1845, donde asumió desde 1854 los negocios de su fallecido hermano Timoteo García. Los primeros años fueron decisivos para desarrollar su red de distribución de tejidos en Galicia y su incipiente entidad bancaria. Los primeros pasos de Simeón García estuvieron muy relacionados con su amigo Jorge de la Riva, que estuvieron asociados varios años hacia el 1875. El crecimiento del negocio textil hizo crecer a la Casa Simeón y, con ello, a su banco, con sede en Casas Reais. Al fallecer el promotor, su viuda e hijos formaron en 1889 una sociedad. Entre 1894 y 1969 su capital se multiplicó por 300. En 1984, el Banco Exterior de España se hizo con el Banco Simeón, que pasó a ser del la Caixa Geral de Depósitos de Portugal en el 95. Los almacenes Simeón desaparecen en 1986.

jueves, 9 de agosto de 2018

Las Caracteristicas de la Escuela Austriaca


Eugen von Böhm-Bawerk, uno de los padres de la Escuela austríaca.
La escuela austriaca, también denominada Escuela de Viena, es una escuela de pensamiento económico que defiende un enfoque sujetivo de la economia .
Cada individuo es muy distinto a cualquier otro tiene gustos y prioridades distinta.
 Según esta teoría, el dinero no es neutral, las tasas de interés y de beneficios son determinados por la interacción de una decreciente utilidad marginal con una decreciente productividad marginal del tiempo y de las preferencias temporales. La teoría austríaca del ciclo económico propone que la estructura del capital de las economías consiste en bienes heterogéneos que tienen usos multiespecíficos que deben ser alineados y enfatiza el poder organizativo del mecanismo de precios.

Ludwig Lachman

 Nació en Alemania
 Vivió en Alemania hasta 1930
 Se Gradua de Economia en Berlin en 1930
 Luego se Fue al London School of Economics
 De allí paso a Johanesburgo

order in society in which people seem able to act by relying on successfully predicting the actions of others. How one is to reconcile these apparently irreconcilable perspectives has been a question that has motivated much work in this field.
 Concluding comments - Austrian economics in the modern world. These considerations have featured significantly in the post-1974 revival of the Austrian School.13 This revival has built on all aspects of the Austrian market process framework – on its particular approach to business cycles, to capital theory, to institutions, always rooted firmly in its subjectivist foundations. Subjectivism itself has been front and center and features most prominent is the work of Don Lavoie, who was much inspired by Lachmann, but whose vision extended over a much wider range, from Mises to Habermas and other Continental philosophers (for example Lavoie 2011).14 Lavoie explored the role of institutions, culture and language in a comprehensive ‘economics of meaning.’ In some respects, the Austrian School preoccupation with subjectivism reached its culmination in his work. And his is a vision that is actively being carried forward in many and varied applications by his students and their students (see Storr 2013). From Menger to the present day, the fortunes of the Austrian School of economics has waxed and waned. Though a small minority in the current world of economic scholarship and practice, it has survived and its adherents are growing. In part this is because economic crises tend to stimulate interest in it; but it is also, and perhaps more importantly, because the Austrian School, built as it is on the firm philosophical foundations of human action driven by subjective perceptions, is arguably in a better position to engage the rapidly changing world in which we live. 

Ludwig Lachmann SUBJETIVISM and Eternal Desequilibrium

Ludwig Lachmann – the radical subjectivist Though he could, with justification be described as a fellow ‘Austrian Economist,’ Ludwig Lachmann was born and educated in Germany, not in Austria. He became acquainted with and enamored of Austrian economics as a young student in his twenties, discovering the work of Joseph Schumpeter and Ludwig von Mises. (He met Mises for the first time in 1932.) He spent the rest of his long professional life working within and fighting for the causes of the ‘Austrian School’ as he saw them (Mittermaier 1992 ; also Grinder 1977). Lachmann’s subjectivism stems from his preoccupation with expectations. Austrian economics reflects a ‘subjectivist’ view of the world. The subjective nature of human preferences is its root. But in a world of change the subjectivism of expectations is perhaps even more important. (Lachmann 1976, 28). From his extensive work on capital theory (the ultimate consummation of which is Lachmann 1978 [1956]), he realized that the subjectivism of value, when considered in the context of durable production goods, especially in combination, implied the imputation problem – the imputation of value to the production goods (capital goods) of a value derived from the expected value of the produced output. The latter was uncertain, both because of uncertainties associated with the production plan itself, and because the value of any produced output depended on what consumers would ultimately pay for them. There was no objective value available to attribute to any production plan or its components. There was, therefore, an inescapable individual, uncaused (“autonomous”), aspect to any production plan. It was the entrepreneur’s projections, based on his expectations that, directed the plan. Different entrepreneurs will have different expectations about the same future – some of which will be contradictory. Among a set of differing expectations of the same future, at most one can be correct. Error is thus inevitable and ubiquitous. The future is unknowable, though not unimaginable. Future knowledge cannot be had now, but it can cast its shadow ahead. In each mind, however, the shadow assumes a different shape, hence the divergence of expectations. The formation of expectations is an act of our mind by means of which we try to catch a glimpse of the unknown. Each one of us catches a different glimpse. The wider the range of divergence the greater the possibility that somebody's expectation will turn out to be right (Lachmann (1976a, 59). 13 13 The reality of disparate, autonomously generated, expectations in the commercial sphere, meant one could not assume that the market process was one that was characterized by any inherent tendency to converge to an equilibrium of prices, quantities and uniform expectations. The market was subject to continual change as time passed. It was inconceivable that time could pass without new knowledge emerging. Clearly learning was going on, but different people learned different things and there was no guarantee that what they learned would bring the market any closer to equilibrium
What emerges from our reflections is an image of the market as a particular kind of process, a continuous process without beginning or end, propelled by the interaction between the forces of equilibrium and the forces of change (Lachmann 1976a: 59). Lachmann thus rejects the notion of the predominance of equilibrating tendencies even in ‘theory.’ He did not see it as legitimate to omit from the theory the undeniably disequilibrating effects of the inevitable change in knowledge that must occur with the passage of time. In this he was alone among his contemporaries and predecessors in the Austrian School, hence the appellation ‘radical subjectivist’ (though his students and younger colleagues found his message compelling and full of potential for corollary insights)12. This disagreement about equilibrium tendencies is not about whether or not equilibrium is ever reached. There is no disagreement that it is not. What emerges as an issue for all the Austrian economists is the question of how people can act in a world which is always subject to changes in the ‘data’ so that it is always de facto in disequilibrium, the so-called ‘Lachmann problem’ (Koppl 1998: 61). And the answer they all give in one form or another is the existence of social institutions – the existence of rules, habits, customs, mores, etc. that serve to anchor people’s expectations about the actions of others in such a way as to permit them to act coherently in anticipation of predictable consequences.
The problem is particularly acute for Lachmann the ‘radical subjectivist.’ For him expectations are autonomous. Though they may be influenced by events they are not wholly determined by them. All experience must be interpreted and may be interpreted differently by different individuals. This creates unavoidable uncertainty and error. It is the world in which there is work for the entrepreneur who pits his vision of the future against those of his rivals. It is a kaleidic world. Action is by definition goal oriented, informed by knowledge of a causal mechanism that presupposes a tight connection between action and outcome. But if outcomes are radically uncertain why are people not debilitated? How is action possible in a radically uncertain world? 
Stated differently, on the one hand there are the undeniable facts of novelty and disequilibrium and the inability to foresee all consequences. On the other hand, there is the undeniable fact of 12 The issue emerges most clearly in the decades long friendly debate with his younger colleague, Israel Kirzner (see figure 1 above), a former Mises student and later professor of economics at New York University. While Kirzner differed with Lachmann on the question of equilibrating tendencies, he respected and was influence by Lachmann’s insights. He shared Lachmann’s view of the need to tackle the theoretical challenges posed by the dynamism of the market economy. The other younger ‘Austrian’ contemporary was Murray Rothbard. Rothbard was also a former Mises student, and while he left a legacy of extensive and admirable scholarship, his preoccupations did not include much in relation to the question of subjectivism, beyond what he took for granted from Mises. He was not sympathetic to Lachmann’s views and was not concerned about the ‘Lachmann problem.’