Today, I have a piece about Wilhelm Röpke, the German economist, social critic, and political thinker. He was a leading liberal (in the European sense), and he was esteemed by Bill Buckley. Röpke contributed many articles to National Review. When Röpke died, WFB dedicated his column to him, heading it “Death of a Titan.” In the pages of NR, Ludwig von Mises wrote the obituary. Anyway, an invaluable figure, Röpke. For my piece, go here.

Feel like some mail? In the course of a letter about Ukraine, a reader writes,

Some years ago, I read The Candy Bombers: The Untold Story of the Berlin Airlift and America’s Finest Hour, by Andrei Cherny. I was fascinated by the history, the politics, the drama. One man’s simple act of kindness toward war-torn children had a powerful effect on the hearts and minds of millions of people. Those who were once enemies came together in a struggle to defeat the expansion of Communism. I am again reading this wonderfully well-written book because I recognized the parallels between Soviet aggression then and Russian aggression now. The U.S. response is critical.

In a column a few weeks ago, I had occasion to write,

Democracy is resilient, we are told. I believe this. It is also fragile, we are told. Can both things be true? That would defy sense. But one or the other may feel true, depending on the day.

A reader writes,

Jay,
. . . I came across an accidental insight when I was in high school that has stayed with me. At the time, I was working on an essay for the VFW Voice of Democracy contest on “my commitment to America.” I was also a kid.
I lived in a neighborhood of five-acre parcels, with a friend’s house next door, on the other side of a pasture. I had another friend over, and we decided to throw an egg across the pasture to the neighboring lawn to create a mess my neighbor would have to clean up. It seemed funny at the time.
I threw the egg, and it landed on the lawn, where it didn’t break. The neighbors weren’t home, so we went over and retrieved the egg to try again. Another toss across the pasture — again, it didn’t break. We retrieved it a second time, and on the way back to my parents’ house I tossed it in the air, caught it — and it broke all over my hand.
I ended up doing my piece on how democracy possesses intrinsic strength that can lull us into believing it can’t be broken, but also intrinsic weakness that can cause it to fall apart in our hands. That nature begs us to be as committed to preventing carelessness as we are to avoiding the Big Risks, like war or an ideological takeover. . . .
If we adhere to American principles, the system can soar over pastures. If we indulge in opportunistic politics, it will crack in our hands. Democracy is strong and weak — always, and we shouldn’t forget it.

In another column, I spoke of the perils of football — the violence of football. There came a time when the American public had had enough of boxing. The barbarism of the sport was just too obvious. The effects, too revolting. (Head injuries, brain damage.) Will the public ever have enough of football?

A reader from Detroit writes,

Jay:
Many, many years ago, late high school and early college, for reasons I can no longer reconstruct, I followed boxing. It was easier to do back then — the big fights were on free TV and there was only one sanctioning authority. Then one day I decided to see matches live and I went down to the Olympia (that’s how long ago this was) and got a good seat. This is when I realized that prize fighting is basically a couple of guys trying to bludgeon each other into unconsciousness. Olympic boxing is more of a sport but I find it uninteresting.
Long, long ago, when I was practicing workers-compensation law, I came across an article in a journal that concluded that of all people who have played a minute or more in the NFL, by age 52 two-thirds are at least partially disabled under the definition of most states. . . .
I go to football games when I get a free ticket — my buddy has season tickets and if his brother can’t make it he takes me. Even more than on TV, I see that the essence of the game is violence.
You can take what little violence there is out of baseball and basically they’ve done that. Throwing at a batter now brings ejection if it can be proved. They’ve adjusted the rules so there’s no longer nearly as much sliding into second to break up double plays and they’ve also reduced home-plate collisions. Baseball fans are unaffected.
You could more rigidly enforce body-contact rules in soccer and basketball, and fans of those games would remain fans. The Europeans have eliminated a substantial part of the violence in hockey and, again, people who like hockey still do.
But any meaningful reduction of violence in football and it’s just not the same game. People wouldn’t organize parties around a national touch-football championship. . . .
You’re probably familiar with George Carlin’s routine on baseball and football. There’s this part: “In baseball, during the game, in the stands, there’s kind of a picnic feeling. Emotions may run high or low, but there’s not that much unpleasantness. In football, during the game, in the stands, you can be sure that at least 27 times you’re perfectly capable of taking the life of a fellow human being. Preferably a stranger.”

To hear George Carlin, go here. And my thanks to one and all readers and correspondents.