Original prologue by José Villacís from 1993

‘I had the chance to meet Germán Bernácer.’ This pronouncement by economist Jesús Prados Arrarte would end up changing my life. After many years in exile, Prados exuded the charisma of a political fugitive and the seductive romanticism of those with firsthand knowledge of other economies. As his students, we were captivated by the masterful and improvised lectures he would burst forth with at his home while we graded papers or ate lunch in the cafeteria. These conversations were sprinkled with anecdotes and punctuated by references to famous characters from the world of literature, like Prado’s good friend Federico García Lorca, and about wartime struggles.

Prados would jest that he was an expert on inflations. This was not odd, given that he had studied, suffered and lived through Latin American inflations. He lived for many years in Argentina and did studies on Chilean and Peruvian inflation. He was a critic of the big economists and would end up saying that Milton Friedman ‘was the worst Nobel Prize winner ever chosen’. He was acerbic in his attacks and always devastating.

For this reason, his proclamation of great admiration has always remained vividly in my memory, as if he had been introduced to Adam Smith: ‘I had the chance to meet Germán Bernácer…’

At that time (the winter of 1977), I was starting out in the world of teaching, no research, and I instinctively asked if Germán Bernácer was a German economist. He told me no; he was Spanish. Then Prados started to tell me about how he was known by the greatest economists in the world, like Robertson, Haberler, Perraux, Rueff, and about how he published in prestigious international magazines.

Admiration, which is a matter of knowledge and particularly of instinct, shone through in Prado’s comments when he talked about Bernácer. And in a single phrase, he paid him the highest compliment possible by saying, ‘Damn! That guy really knew about money’. Then, Prado started to tell the story that he would repeat innumerable times about introducing Bernácer and Robertson. Don’t forget, he would say, that we are talking about the Robertson from Cambridge, nobody less, who was a friend and confidant of the great Keynes. The story, which is told in greater detail later in the book, was the following.

It was 1954 at a banking conference in Granada, Spain. Prados was talking to Dennis H. Robertson, who told him that he had heard about a man named Bernácer. ‘Well, he is actually here in the hotel, and I will introduce you to him now,’ said Prados. Excited, they went downstairs. And they approached a timid man, practically hiding in a corner of the room. It was an unbalanced and absurd meeting. Robertson virtually towered over Bernácer and hugged him happily and genuinely, like someone who had finally found a long-lost friend. Totally the opposite, Bernácer acted cold and distant. Prados said, ‘Bernácer’s face looked like he was ill’.

We soon started to look for background information on Bernácer, armed with enthusiasm and the rudiments of Keynesian economics. Ten years later, we would find the key to Robertson’s passion and Bernácer’s coldness. I also found the core of an orthodox and real definition of macroeconomics, which turns the orthodox and official into an impossible game of vulgar arithmetic. By that time, Prados had died without ever realising the amazing individual who had been right in front of him.

What is tragic about the case is that Prados carried out several daring forays into dynamic economics with very interesting results without ever having studied or known about Bernácer’s works. He even ended up experimentally proving some of Bernácer’s theories. It is tragic and even anecdotal. Now it was four years after that landmark year of 1977 when I heard the name Bernácer from his mouth for the very first time. I had already become engrossed in his theories and I commented on Keynes’ possible repetition of Bernácer’s work. And he said, ‘Villacís, that’s ridiculous’. I believed him. I also told him that the saving-investment equality was foolishness, to which he readily and confidently responded: ‘That is not foolishness. That is an identity, and saying that an identity is not equal is not foolishness, it is madness’. I fell quiet, but then added how savings are sometimes not invested and not hoarded either. Then he argued, ‘So what do you do with them?’ I told him that income is not always spent on consumer and capital goods. He aggressively interrupted and said: ‘You are not telling me that they are spent on illusions’. I told him yes, on illusions of wealth. He laughed, but behind his glasses, his eyes, somewhere between surprised and amused or perhaps irritated, gazed upon a new researcher.

I hounded him so relentlessly in the last years of his life that, perhaps due to weariness or maybe even curiosity, he finally read some chapters of Bernácer’s work, A Free Market Economy without Crisis or Unemployment. He read it partially, as well as chapter one of The Functional Doctrine of Money and he understood some of it. This is that secondary financial assets were a type of anti-wealth and that their acquisition and sale with disposable funds (non-invested savings) will spawn oscillations in the rubber bands of the economy.

In Prados’ extensive book entitled Treatise on Political Economy in the chapter on Economic Cycles, he quoted a list of doctrines that all expressed part of his peculiar viewpoint about cycles. They are like scattered country inns that each let researchers quench their immediate thirst and hunger, but are also complete scientific bodies of work in themselves. Thus Prados quoted Bernácer in this list and only in distant recognition. It is also true that Prados was one of the very few, or the only one in Spain to ever quote Bernácer. This was Prados’ reference in his last book, a comment in small print, in the vast desert of Spanish economics.

My acknowledgement of Prados appears here before my future studies, as I owe him my start in teaching and part of my knowledge, especially about inflation and money. But I am also critical of him, given that if he would have understood this part about secondary financial assets and about disposable funds, it would have changed the course of his understanding of macroeconomics. But I really have no reason to criticise Prados, when economic scientists simply followed the most accepted theories of the day, like the accepted theory on blood circulation before the arrival of Servet and Harvey. With respect to economics, this includes thought about monetary circulation, the creation of national product and the distribution of income, one of the axioms of economics. Actually, it is quite normal that a man who witnessed the appearance of the Keynesian revolution, of the post-Keynesian revolution and of the constantly improving creation of macroeconomic doctrine was not about to change his vision of macroeconomics in the final years of his life.

Prados studied the Chilean economy for a long period of time. It was research that started from the analyses of balance sheets of limited companies in Chile in which sinking funds were analysed. These funds are part of income, specifically part of a company’s income, which is not distributed and is thus used to create savings. These are Bernácer’s disposable funds, as you will see. The objective of sinking funds is to transform them into investments. This is the macroeconomic tenet that translates into the identity S = I.

This study was done in the fifties, twenty-five years before I read about Bernácer’s cycles and financial assets. Prados showed how this savings or sinking fund was channelled towards what he called non-amortisable fixed assets. And what are they? Well, building sites, lands and other assets that increased greatly in value and let companies protect themselves against inflation. Stated differently, sinking funds were placed (not to say invested here) in past wealth or actual secondary assets and not in production fixed assets.

The issue is that production fixed assets are not only productive but also have been produced, letting them be rescued with period saving, making S = I true. This did not happen in Chile, Simultaneously, companies were undercapitalised as a consequence of inflation. But Prados stopped there, in the reduction of the production pyramid according to Hayeck, that is, the undercapitalisation of companies.

Bernácer did not comprehend Prados as he had not read him, and vice-versa. Prados did not benefit from his conclusion, although I did draw extremely valuable conclusions ¹. Prados should have realised and this is why I emphasised it to him in the last years of his life; that with wealth, anti-wealth is created or illusions of wealth. Financial assets, after fulfilling their mission of transferring savings to investments, continued to survive. Furthermore, after actual assets are created, they continued to be bought and sold above their creation value. These are all anti-wealth in the sense that they monopolise part of the income from the period, specifically the remaining savings that were not capitalised. This means that in the arena of the economic system, the wealth from the period –consumption and capital– is joined to our financial assets or illusions of wealth or anti-wealth. Then production income whose destination according to Say is to collect generated production via purchases, changes course to demand these artificial assets of wealth. And if they hold this perverse function, they fail when authentic wealth is sold.

This is what I made Prados see, much to his great irritation, when he had already published his citation about Bernácer’s economic cycles. The conclusion did not come to light in his work on Chilean limited companies, but rather spilled acid onto the solid structure of macroeconomics. It was clear that if he admitted Bernácer’s conclusion, non-capitalised savings were thus used to speculate financial assets (secondary or second-hand ones); and if this part of savings was not capitalised (disposable funds are these non-capitalised savings), then savings could not be equal to investment. And the part of unsold production could not be referred to as investment in any way, which macroeconomics wrongly calls inventory investments and that, furthermore, it is not sold because income demands dead wealth or illusions of wealth. Prados, on a winter afternoon, would shout once again (there are no witnesses to this) ‘It is true!’ But it was too late. Prados would die without knowing, or even guessing, that the works of the man he introduced to Robertson had unknowingly and statistically proven one part of his work.

How could Prados have known that the introduction he initiated was the culmination of a scientific duel infected by suspicion? A duel between the representative of the British giant of English economic science, Robertson, friend and expert of another, the great Keynes, on the one hand, and on the other hand, a Spanish giant, the only one in his land.

Bernácer was consumed with doubt about being copied by Keynes. And his suspicion was well-founded. His work, prior to Keynes’, was established through a series of supporting parts such as monetary theory, his theory on interest, consumption, criticism of Say’s Law, which all come together in a functionalism or logical structure that is the model for the determination of income. He did tell Robertson and then his theories started appearing from Keynes’ skilful and fecund pen, one by one and then all of them together.

There are undoubtedly scientific coincidences. It is normal that one or two creations are discovered in science by two or more people. But the reassurance of the scientist becomes flustered when an entire system and the parts that comprise it are repeated ad nauseum, detail by detail, to the point of exasperation. Calm is destroyed and one’s intelligence is irritated. And this was how the shy and prudent Bernácer despaired when faced with the suspicion that Keynes had copied him.

However, the most underhanded thing about the situation and possibly the clearest is how the Englishman distorted Bernácer’s ideas one by one to make them his own (his suspicions were grounded). Intentional distortion is quite dangerous because truth is truth and not what we hope and want it to be. Thus, disposable funds appear as liquidity, financial interest as monetary interest, investment as investment and unsold merchandise as inventory investment. Bernácer stood up after 1936 and unmasked the connection that Keynes had so astutely hidden. His criticism of Keynes was simple and implacable and Robertson fell along with the master, very little to be honest, and his followers. For Prados and all economists who boast of having common sense, the renowned and famous Englishman’s plagiarism of a poor accountant from the Spanish provinces would seem like madness. It seems like madness and it is, especially when there is not a single irrefutable piece of evidence to prove it. Stated differently, in a courtroom claiming plagiarism, Bernácer wouldn’t be able to do anything and neither can I.

Like most or all Spanish economists, including Professor Emilio Figueroa who knew Bernácer best, Bernácer passed right in front of him without anyone knowing about his theory. Robertson knew it and Robertson paid it homage and admiration and made it known to the international scientific community.

Robertson and Bernácer maintained a long correspondence and the sinuous and creeping snake of suspicion floated in and out of each letter. Until the day arrived that a mutual economist friend put them face to face. This was Prados, who could not understand Robertson’s enthusiastic embrace and Bernácer’s coldness.

Prados is justified for several reasons. From his comment ‘I met Germán Bernácer in 1977!’ until 1990 when the first edition of this book was written, a long and difficult road has been travelled in the indomitable gymnastics of my work. Without this single comment, I and the majority of Spanish economists would not have known anything about him. And Prados was so scientifically close that, like a book thrust right in front of your eyes, he could not read it.

Nonetheless, the most important character in this work is Emilio Figueroa. He died on 9 December 1989, only shortly before I finished this book. His unflagging enthusiasm and spirit were a constant inspiration.

Bernácer was not an economist and did not study this field at university. His teaching subjects were physics and chemistry. He was a professor of Testing and Evaluation of Commercial Products, a class that he used to teach physics. Apart from that, his qualifications, like a stamp placed on a letter so that it reaches its destination, were as a business teacher, which he used in his work as an accountant.

Career-wise, he ended up working at the Bank of Spain, where he managed Research Services.

Emilio Figueroa was the only economist that not only knew him, but was also with him during a large part of his scientific life. He was his student at the Business Training School and his workmate at the Bank of Spain. Subsequently, he also succeeded him in the post of assistant director of research that Bernácer had held. The two of them were in direct contact. Figueroa’s admiration of Bernácer, many long years after his death, was always great and the teachings of the master remained with him like a tune that you unconsciously hum that is ingrained in your mind.

First of all, I want to make a comment. The education imparted at the Business Training School was a low-level trade school, practical in nature. It could be called scientifically unattractive, almost ordinary. Economic reality is analysed almost manually, without romanticism and without the blinding turmoil of useless abstractions. Accounting mechanics and business economics are studied. It is reality as we see it and as it is. It is economic reality and accounting is an elementary and enormously practical part of statistics. There is no deceit and if there is, the accountant is either dismissed by the boss or taken to jail by the state.

Economic science is not accounting or statistics and does not simply spring from these other disciplines. But however common these techniques are, scientific methodology is born or should be born there.

Figueroa was not far behind economists who had soaked up the purest economic theories of their time, the legacy of neoclassic microeconomics, of Keynes’ General Theory when it appeared and the history of economic science. The education at the Business Training School was exact and aesthetic and did not permit dangerous flirtations with scientific dreams. Bernácer and Figueroa belonged to this caste, as well as Prados and other renowned economists like Fernández Pirla.

This is the reason why, nourished with Bernacerian education, it has been easy for me to start up a dialogue with Figueroa and Fernández Pirla. Words that relate working capital, fixed capital or sentences that say (these are from Bernácer) ‘working capital is comprised partly of capital goods, which continue to be working capital no matter how established they are as long as they are not withdrawn by the entrepreneur…’, is a type of language that is quickly grasped by experts of business economics.

José María Fernández Pirla in particular, professor of business economics and stockbroker (what a great experience!), with great intuition and a quick intelligence, has admitted the enormous complexity existing in the movement between savings and investment. Pure macroeconomists naturally admit this as well, but they might not know why, although business economists do.

Neither Figueroa nor Pirla owe their in-depth knowledge of macroeconomics and business economics to Bernácer, although both knew him personally, but rather their well-rounded scientific education. It is complete because they were matched in their studies about the starting point, the end point and the road in between them.

Bernácer did not have any orthodox students during his lifetime, since he did not teach economics or worry about starting a school at the Bank of Spain. He was the prototype of the solitary economist, interested in disseminating his scientific theories in publications. Understanding his theories entailed many years of almost exclusive study for me, to then synthesise them after full understanding was reached. Proof of this is how Keynesian theory had an army of disciplined and eager economists who knew how to record and harmonise a series of tautologies and contradictions. Since Bernácer had none of this; he founded no school and no one knew of his works. Bernácer himself is partly to blame for this. Figueroa confused us when he openly admitted that he did not know the works of his teacher. Over many years and frequent and long conversations, I realised he had not given himself credit, because Figueroa’s different statements let me see that the lyrics and melodies of Bernácer’s music had not been lost. Proof of this is Figueroa’s theory of money surrogates, which I have expanded upon. This is a strong branch in the Bernacerian tree. Further proof is Figueroa’s statement that working capital must be financed with new money and fixed capital with savings, although he explains it slightly differently than Bernácer.

I was very excited to find out that Bernácer had been a teacher at the Business Training School. This was in the initial stages of my detective-like investigation that continued with numerous institutions, lives and deaths. It was a tragic and painful quest due to the large number of treacherous and wicked acts that were revealed. Someone told me that Figueroa knew Bernácer well.

Figueroa graciously invited me into his home. My ego lets me mention that I was happy to find him retired at that time, so that he could devote all his free time and energy to my quest. It wasn’t a trivial matter for him to speak of Bernácer or for me to ask. He was fully aware of the scientific equivalence between Bernácer and Keynes. He had heard direct praise about Bernácer directly from France, Italy, England and the United States by way of people like Rueff, Perraux, Robertson and Haberler. No comment from Spain though, except from Prados. This is added to the fact that many years had passed between 1955, when Figueroa took over Bernácer’s previous post when he retired, and 1984 when our scientific and personal scrutiny began.

And it wasn’t the memory of Bernacerian science that drove Figueroa’s stories, but the descriptive details of his personality. He said that he was a good man and that adjective says it all. He described Bernácer as a totally non-aggressive man, although this trait could have served him well, as he was ingenuous and painfully shy. Absentminded was another prominent adjective used, like many geniuses.

Figueroa told a story that someone once walked up to his desk and asked, ‘Why is that shoe sitting on your desk?’ First response: ‘What shoe?’ and second response: ‘I have no idea whose it is or why it is on my desk!’ The shoe was his and no one was quite sure why or when he had taken it off and put it on the desk. Another story was that young technicians at the Bank of Spain played a trick on the official translator, telling him that he had to translate several articles at the orders of Mr Bernácer. It wasn’t true. Annoyed about the looming workload, he went to his boss to ask for an explanation. Bernácer, who should have known that he himself hadn’t assigned the work, told him: ‘Don’t worry about it now, do it later’.

Figueroa said that Bernácer was never interested in holding an administrative or political post. It wasn’t his thing and he wasn’t psychologically prepared for it. After having met the Bernácer family and talking to all family members separately, as well as to his friends, especially Figueroa, I believe that this lack of economic and political ambition was an essential trait of his personality. It is impossible to imagine our absent-minded and timorous professor subjected to political pressures or intricate schemes in this greedy and conniving world. At the Bank of Spain, he wanted to work in his own way and that is what he did. As to the rest, the only thing he worried about was providing for his family and nothing more. But this wasn’t enough to live in peace without ambitions, because everyone else needed to know it and Bernácer didn’t worry about that either.

I told Figueroa about my unbearable hunch that Keynes had plagiarised Bernácer. As mentioned repeatedly, this suspicion was madness that, like a mineral, neither I nor Bernácer could absorb. Only for me, this mineral became organic and came to life, since after pursuing it, the sense of persecution reversed and I as the pursuer became the pursued. Indeed, this book is really a catharsis or mental cure to place my suspicions methodically on paper once and for all. Figueroa seriously replied that he just would not believe it. Keynes was too important a man to heed poor Germán. He then added that it didn’t make any sense. My response was immediate: ‘It would make sense, but what is missing is proof’.

My visits to Figueroa’s home turned into invasions and my questions into hounding. He was unbelievably patient and tolerant and it even helped him clarify his memories and ideas.

On the desk that separated us, along with the papers and notes, the ghost of Keynes appeared. He told me how one summer afternoon leaving the university; he bought The General Theory… and soaked it up. He thought he understood Keynes well. Behind Figueroa, or above him, the figure of Bernácer appeared. As strange as it may seem, an extraordinary and strange and paradoxical teaching experience developed between me and Figueroa. He taught me macroeconomic topics and I taught him about Bernacerian macroeconomics. It was macroeconomics prior to The General Theory… and an unrepeatable experience. Flashes of memories came to him, like that about the zero interest rate Bernácer spoke of, disposable funds, financing working capital with new money, etc.

I modestly started furnishing Figueroa’s home with Bernácer’s science, abandoned and dusty after so much time and lack of study. One piece here and another there. I started off with disposable funds that were a fraction of income that was not capitalised or consumed. Then this hoarding, which wasn’t hoarding! Then, how these financed the financial market and how interest was born… But Keynes already said that! No, I responded… Bernácer said it first! Liquidity and disposable funds are the same. Very similar but not equal; they are different.

Don’t tell me that Bernácer didn’t believe in the arithmetic that tells us that savings is equal to investment… He never believed this, since savings cannot remain liquid or in financial assets and simultaneously be capitalised. What is clear is that if savings is invested in working capital, it is good for the system and even for fulfilling the equality S = I… Neither of those, given that this investment is always depressive. Over and over again, invading his home and pursuing this man who had lived more than 70 fruitful years with macroeconomic knowledge deeply ingrained in his head that was not Bernacerian, I undertook the difficult task, but with infinitely more intensity, of teaching him Bernacerian economics or, the same thing, the errors of Keynesian macroeconomics. I am not sure if it worked.

He encouraged my investigations but also warned me of the dangers. I took note. Dangers obviously referred to not taking a doctrine too literally that would be obsolete in the eighties and that would probably not have been decanted or purified by any scientist. In reality, the dangers came from elsewhere and were never sufficiently explained. The name and the works of Bernácer were not known in Spain. And it was not that the clamour of the Keynesian waterfall had drowned out the small trickle of the Bernacerian stream. No, that wasn’t the reason. Bernácer felt that it was a complicit silence and the existence of complicity requires more people. In science, complicity demands an enormous collaboration from the institutions of learning and power. How different it would have been, Bernácer said, to have been born in the United States.

The idea of a conspiracy theory seemed to be said in a fit of anger to criticise those who had ignored a genius in the history of Spanish economic thought. But my biggest doubt was the genetic capacity of this conspiracy, which would endure after Bernácer’s death and would continue on to those who expressed interest in his work. It was excessive.

My incredulity about this conspiracy lessened when I read the magnificent and comprehensive book by Professor Henry Savall, who more prudently than me, but with greater courage and exactness, clearly spoke of the wall of silence. He shared the idea that Bernácer, who rubbed shoulders with the great economists of the time, didn’t like Spanish economists. The Spanish community in particular did not like the publication of Robertson’s article in Economía magazine in February 1940, which gathered praise for Bernácer from scientists worldwide.

Spanish economic literature, that pays such homage to Keynes or to criticism of Keynes and even post-Keynesians who make perpetual noise in scientific circles, is silent about Spanish economists. The only comments are from the prolific Fabián Estapé, in his translation of Ferdinando di Finizio’s book, and an article by Figueroa (‘Germán Bernácer in Memoriam’ in the magazine Moneda y Crédito in 1965). As will be understood, this silence is not the result of chance.

Even Figueroa would be stunned when his suspicions about the conspiracy of silence were confirmed when I showed him the 1988 Petit Larousse Illustré dictionary, whose French edition cites Bernácer’s name, whereas the Spanish version says absolutely nothing!

However, and despite everything, the Spanish Tax Studies Institute published a monographic issue about Germán Bernácer in its Hacienda Pública magazine in 1983. The pretext could not have been timelier, since it was the celebration of 100 years since his birth. The firm and honest hand of Professor César Albiñana was in charge of the issue.

A series of events commemorating his birth were held this year in Bernácer’s beloved city of Alicante. And in England, at refined and learned Cambridge, they were probably also celebrating the 100^th anniversary of John Maynard Keynes, since the two economists with so much in common were also born in the same year. Conferences, followed by the uncovering of a plaque on the street bearing his name, were the noteworthy events at this celebration. For the rest, Spain, a country that ignored him and has continued ignoring him, these dates went unnoticed.

Prados participated in the monographic issue with the publication of an article about economic cycles, as well as Emilio Figueroa naturally, whose article dealt with strictly monetary issues. I also published an article on what I believed to be the gestalt of Bernacerian macroeconomics. Among its various defects, there is also a discovery in the article, which is the basic structure of his thought. Since that time (the article was written in 1982 and published in 1983) until the present year of 1989, I have read the entirety of his works several times and have worked extensively on them. Despite their simplicity, new veins to be exploited and valleys to be cultivated have continued to appear. And above all, Bernácer has given us a vision of classic and neoclassic economics, on its successes and its errors and the defects in Keynesian economics.

Emilio Figueroa gave me a short speech to be read at the celebration in Alicante, since he could not attend due to health problems. They were tough words with sharp edges.

He recommended that the economic community should think more and not worry so much about reading modern books, when these are more informed by snobbery than pure knowledge. Bernácer was the clearest example of the intrepid explorer for knowledge. Years later, when Bernácer’s thought had crushed part of Keynesian definitions and had entered more into the domestic arena; I started to publish articles with a double angle. One was the dissemination of an economist’s thought who due to his importance was of interest to the world’s scientific community and, clearly, to the Spanish one. Some articles were published both in Spain and in Portugal. However, I can say that I had serious difficulties in publicising his work here in Spain. Was it the conspiracy of silence or paranoia? I will never know. My aim with these articles and the present work is and will be an impossible task. It consists of placing pressure on books about the history of economic thought, based on reason, so that Bernácer holds the place of honour he deserves alongside Keynes. This is a heroic, romantic and living task, but nearly impossible, as I am without an entire system and lacking collaboration from institutions.

The other angle is more difficult than the first and consists of adapting modern macroeconomics to Bernácer’s thought, not the opposite. Let me explain myself. If modern macroeconomics sprang from the fertile womb of Keynes’ scientific work, and they believe Bernácer was wrong (or poorly copied if we continue along these mad lines) and although it has been retouched and wisely connected, the foundation errors still survive and have not been pursued. Bernácer lived to demonstrate these errors, as you can see in his last book A Free Market Economy without Crisis or Unemployment (1955). It is not about refining the definition of consumption or improving studies about the demand for money or investments, but rather about the general circulatory process of money, the origin of interest, etc.

And if Keynes had followers and critical followers with great intelligence and extensive, in-depth scientific training, it is clear that I alone cannot perform the overwhelming task of adapting modern macroeconomics to Bernácer’s thought, despite having the crushing tool of his criticisms. One worker alone cannot destroy a city and build a new one.

But since stubbornness and enthusiasm are both free, I have overcome my fear and done work that has opened small cracks in the world of macroeconomic thought. Of course it is possible to claim that these cracks are due to my education and/or intelligence.

Figueroa acknowledged two of my works, although I don’t know if it was due to affection, tolerance or weariness. One referred to the parallelism between the macroeconomic ideas of Prados Arrarte and Bernácer. This work, that Prados couldn’t read because it was published after his death, spoke of how sinking funds or potentially-capitalised savings were not really invested in consumption or capital, but in illusions of wealth, which Prados called ‘non-amortisable fixed assets’.

My other work made reference to a point that Bernácer forgot, which is: Bernácer’s theory, as he himself coined it, is income-based, as the circulatory mechanism is explained by the origin of production and of production income. He criticised Keynes who, also being intelligently income-based like Bernácer, speaks of generic and imprecise concepts when speaking of money, such as monetary supply and the demand for money when analysing the money market. Bernácer says that there is a savings flow that comes from the great flow of income and that he calls disposable funds. Part of this flow is invested (and stops being disposable) and part is kept as a disposable-fund flow that reaches the financial market through speculation, with its investment thus stopped. In this market, he correctly says that there is a supply and demand of disposable funds that reflect the respective buying and selling of financial assets, which leads to the amortisation price of these assets and in turn leads to interest. This is similar to Keynesian speculative demand.

But Bernácer did not explain (if it is called income-based) what the flow is for the savings supply and demand towards investment, due to which he determined another different interest, which is ordinary market interest. This means that if a disposable fund supply and demand existed, there would have to be a savings supply and demand invested (savings that are capitalised) that respectively respects the operations of buying and selling capital.

Figueroa was Bernácer’s student at the Business Training School in Madrid, not in Economics, but in the discipline of Testing and Evaluation of Commercial Products, which was physics and chemistry basically. Over time at the Bank of Spain, where they both worked, Bernácer moved from the post of Director of Research Services to Assistant Director. Remember that in those times –the thirties– Research Services was a small administrative unit without any specific function and probably without technical or political influence. This is totally the opposite from now, when this department is comprised of powerful means and highly-qualified and coordinated personnel that let it maintain broad technical advisory and decision-taking capacities.

When Bernácer retired, his post was filled by Figueroa. This was in 1955 and he had just published A Free Market Economy without Crisis or Unemployment. He was 72 and my enthusiasm for Figueroa is therefore not exaggerated as he has always been the bridge between me and Bernácer, over the dusty road of time.

Figueroa surprised me a lot when, among different comments about his friend and teacher, he inserted thoughts about macroeconomics. Once he told me: ‘Don’t forget that new money is needed to finance working capital and that savings must finance fixed capital”. This assertion was basically a Bernacerian proposition on dynamic balance. I fired back a question like a shot: ‘And how do you know that?’ Then he gave me a simple response that had nothing to do with Bernácer’s thesis, which he was not fully aware of. His response was that new money is recovered quickly and can be created. Savings is generated slowly and lets fixed capital be financed, whose erosion is also slow, letting its recovery through a sinking fund by done with some concurrence.

Fate has been capricious in my work and it has been an excellent and happy turn of luck. Prados randomly placed Bernácer on my path through a casual comment. Emilio Figueroa told me stories about a man I wanted to know about after his death and who was his teacher. And with respect to my other dear friends, distant in time, they helped sate my thirst for knowledge about him.

And this fate wanted there to be an exceptional witness to Prados’ memorable introduction of Robertson and Bernácer. This witness was Emilio Figueroa, who was staying at another hotel. Figueroa found Bernácer’s curt acknowledgement of Robertson’s embrace strange. The stranglehold of timidity was the explanation. I believed it and also believe in the unbearable moral upheaval for Bernácer when faced with an economist who witnessed a colossal scientific creation prior to that of Keynes. And furthermore, the great annoyance about the hypothetical plagiarism. Figueroa was unsure. This was my victory: I made him doubt.

Doubt, which has its own life, pursues its pursuers.

The most difficult thing has been to provide a secure method for my research. I am not sure if it has worked. What is sure is that the inception, over ten years ago now, lacked methodology, with respect to hunting down and capturing biographical information. On the other hand, knowledge about his school of thought was a pleasure, although likewise difficult to obtain.

Soon, sentences started to appear from Prados and especially from Figueroa, like: ‘So and so might know’… and then this figure might not have known, but he did know someone else who had contact with him. But on most occasions, this person would have seen him at some point. And among imperceptible data, which were like microscopic spider webs, or others from Figueroa that were thick and well-woven threads, they all came together to weave a colourful fabric laced with the inevitable subjectivism of the investigator.

In the United States, Wallich, an executive at the Federal Reserve, encouraged me and answered my letters. He had met ‘my’ economist and still had vivid memories of him after many years. In France, Françoise Perraux accepted Bernácer as a great economist and an expert in monetary matters. This is what he told me. Marcial Jesús López Moreno, Business Economics professor and former dean of the Economics Faculty in Madrid, was his student with an inexhaustible enthusiasm for my project. Fernández Pirla, another student, responded to my requests for information. In 1987-1988, when he was president of the National Audit Office, he always found time to answer my questions. I was amazed by his memory of Robertson’s work on Bernácer. He was not his Economics student, but a student of Testing and Evaluation of Commercial Products, whose specialisation was not macroeconomics. Pirla was also a valid and receptive speaker who understands the language of macroeconomics clearly, and clarity is the language of business economics. This statement is also true of Professor López Moreno.

Professor Mariano Sebastián Herrador was Bernácer’s boss at the Bank of Spain and held the post that Bernácer would later have in Research Services. This man has a key role in Bernácer’s public life, as he took over his job. Finally, when he was elderly and with the serenity of years, he gave me an explanation that is real due to observation removed from the emotion of first-hand observation. Mariano Sebastián was a professor of Political Economics at San Pablo University Centre, and I was as well. So we were colleagues. My zeal for information was rejected, maybe not due to indifference but to buried aggressiveness. Things were changing so fast that the supposed aggressor became an involuntary benefactor. Mariano Sebastián was never antagonistic about Bernácer at all. He was simply a man that was deeply involved and devoted to scientific research. I might dare to say that he was mentally outside the game, as they say in football, and men like Einstein or Adam Smith are not useful for administrative routine or power struggles. He simply let Bernácer do what he felt like doing, and what Bernácer felt like doing was researching, plain and simple.

Bernácer’s wife, from whom I received a large amount of information, said: ‘That was just how Germán was’. Doña María built a glass dome around his environment and let him be. This dome or capsule let Bernácer see but not hear. He heard nothing about domestic problems or economic ones. And I asked myself, not without a certain violence or brutality, what difference was there between how Mariano Sebastián and Dona María Guardiola acted? None. Both of them let him work.

A workmate –a boss who inundated him with work and took advantage of the hierarchical advantages of bureaucracy– may have managed to rescue a bad bureaucrat for the administration, but the world would have lost a great scientist. Paradoxically, Mariano Sebastián let Bernácer work freely on his research. From the information given and confirmed by the Bernácer family, I found out that he took more holiday time than he was due with the approval of Mariano Sebastián. As you can imagine, his holidays, like all 365 days of the year and many nights as well, were devoted to work.

Germánico Salgado, Ecuadorian economist and senior executive at CEPAL and Ecuadorian ambassador in Spain, remembered Bernácer from his times as a student in Spain. He knew how important he was and encouraged me to keep working. He also dedicated a prologue to me in the first book he wrote in 1982, which was going to be published by Editora Nacional. Unfortunately it closed down and the publication didn’t end up happening.

Professor José Raga Gil, from Valencia like Bernácer, listened to our concerns and encouraged my research. He called me about publishing an article on Bernácer in S’Pill magazine, which I did, with the double honour of it also being published in the Valencian language.

Professor José Luis Pérez de Ayala glimpsed the spark of my enthusiasm and threw more wood onto the fire. He listened to me and also published an article about fiscal policy as related to the theory of disposable funds. This article was published in the collection he edited and was entitled ‘Financial Law and Public Finances’.

Miss María del Carmen Sánchez García, who worked at the school that was the Business Training School, where Bernácer taught, let me consult school archives and expand upon my enquiries.

As mentioned, destiny seemed to be on my side. The following story will confirm that. Bernácer’s son, who worked at UNESCO and is a physicist like his father, lived in Santiago de Chile and came to Spain every three years or so, to Alicante. He had a layover in Madrid for a few hours. I happened to call him and he answered. We had a brief chat and then I contacted the relevant figures to tie the story together. We made an appointment to meet at Emilio Figueroa’s house. I introduced them and then listened.

It was the first time I had heard from a member of Bernácer’s family. The son spoke of his father with great precision and emotion. Figueroa spoke and listened. Everything I had heard about Bernácer was confirmed. And more. His father suffered from unbearable shyness. His education was extremely wide-ranging and included humanist subjects like history, philosophy and Latin. He learned Latin so that he could teach his children, as well as teaching his son about physics. ‘For my father’, he said, ‘physics and economics were two different disciplines and his methodology therefore also had to be different’. However, economic events develop over time and space, which are physical parameters, and must fulfil the laws of this environment. Time is continuous and irreversible, as two things cannot be in the same space at the same time. I had read these comments somewhere made by Germán Bernácer Jr. They are offshoots of ideas that say that if savings is not capitalised, disposable funds are in the financial market and, thus, at that time are not in the production market.

Figueroa understood this idea clearly and squirmed excitedly in his seat. This conversation took place before 1983, the year in which the dollar had become scarce and there was a lack of disposable funds. Germán Bernácer Jr, in his travels around America as a functionary, came into contact with economists and attended more than one economic conference. He understood economics, although he did not formally study it. He made a statement that Figueroa and I had already formulated… ‘The dollar has become another financial asset that is not strictly monetary’. His son had obviously understood his father well. Ramón Bernácer, the third child, had always been a source of friendly, intelligent, generous and attentive conversation, providing much invaluable information. He has a degree in Exact Sciences in Economic Sciences and works as a business broker, public notary and intermediary in fast-paced financial market operations. He used to joke that his father wouldn’t have forgiven him for earning a living in his scorned financial market.

I was always asking Ramón, the mathematician, what his father thought about applying mathematics to economics and about his father’s mathematical education. His response was always the same: ‘Mathematics, my father said, does not create concepts. However, their careful formulation is recommended, always knowing what you are doing and not getting tangled up in scientific science fiction. Many errors are committed in the application of mathematics.’ Other times, he said that the basic use of simple maths was enough to express any economic relationship. However, Bernácer, and his enormous intellectual curiosity, devoured everything that fell into his reach and mathematics was in the scope of his curiosity. Along with José Antonio Estrugo, a colleague at the Business Training School, he created the Spanish Society of Applied Mathematics.

The fruits of these studies would appear by way of mathematical economics and econometrics (not Bernácer’s) in the magazine Arquímedes. Bernácer published an article in one of the first issues, which was almost a warning, about scientific methodology. Prestigious mathematician Rey Pastor and José Gallego Díaz were friends of his.

The present work is the offspring of another that I finished in 1983. On the centenary of Bernácer’s birth, I had the chance to meet Henry Savall in the hotel I was staying at. You can only imagine my surprise when, thinking I was the only explorer into Bernácer’s life and works and in the midst of this enormous task, I suddenly met someone with a spectacular book on the same subject. It was disappointing. Henry Savall’s work was a translation from French and was an extensive and well-researched book. I had the sensation that the golden metal of Bernacerian thought had been melted down and transformed into a finely-crafted watch. But I wanted to take advantage of this potentially demoralising situation. I devoured Savall’s book, which repeated many details I had discovered, only that Savall did it with great fluidity and, I think, better literary style.

I profited from it, I said. I used each point about his life and works as a starting point to expand upon different details and concepts. This was how my original work grew and was improved to finish with the present book. Savall signed his book for me and told me about his tireless enthusiasm. But he didn’t want to answer my questions: Who was better, Keynes or Bernácer? Was there copying or not? Savall was more prudent than I. My enthusiasm is joined with imprudence and this is why I am willing to persist in my laborious task of incorporating Bernácer’s work with modern macroeconomics.

My friend, teacher and colleague at the CEU, Beltrán Flores, proffered his valuable help to properly place Bernácer’s thought within the setting of the history of economic thought.

I would like to thank the rewarding group of CEU professors, authors of the book Monetary Theory and Policy: Luis Rodríguez Sáenz, Alberto Parejo Gámir, Fernández Díaz, Calvo Bernardino and Miguel Angel Galindo, as well as Luis Santiago Moreno and Jesús Paul. Besides my work, Professor Jucos’ book on the history of economic thought and the aforementioned Monetary Theory and Policy quote Bernácer’s theory for the first time in textbooks.

Special recollection goes to my dear student at the CEU, Ana Parpal Tuzo, originally from Menorca, who helped me investigate the origin of the surname Bernácer. By coincidence, the surname of Miss Ana Parpal’s grandmother was ‘Bennassar’, of Balearic origin like Bernácer, and they belong to the same genealogical group. The extremely valuable work of my intelligent student reached me in a letter dated 30 July 1991 when my book had already been delivered to Editorial Paraninfo.

When delivering the proofs to the printer, I wrote a warm dedication to my colleagues at CEES (European Centre on University Studies), to my friend Esteban Varela and to José Mariano López Cepero, who was Bernácer’s student and helped me apply the finishing touches to the impressionist painting of his teacher. I am very grateful to my friend and colleague Antonio Piñuela for this excellent work on the illustrations to the book.

Lastly, my deep thanks go to the entire Bernácer family, especially his widow, who helped me define and complete the fresco I had already created in the imprecise watercolours of my mind. The final portrait –man, life and works– appears in this book.

José Villacís                  
1993