The influence of neoliberalism on public opinion must have been so strong that politicians, whatever their colour, could only follow suit. Stedman Jones, while hostile philosophically, describes the scene with remarkable accuracy, including its financial underpinning and its ties with conservatism. The only surprise lies in the power that he and others attribute to the neoliberal network, which they erroneously view as a homogenous group of like-minded people conspiring to change the world. Unfortunately, though, as I can report with an insider's perspective, the neoliberals, ranging from continental "Ordoliberals" to the anarcho-capitalist lunatic fringe, rarely agree on policy recommendations. And we aren't aware of any sweeping success. We could relax and enjoy the compliment, if only the social democratic collectivist think-tanks and NGOs, traditionally bigger both in number and financial resources than their neoliberal equivalents, didn't have such a tight grip on modern societies.

The enemies of neoliberalism now don more distinctly academic clothes than before — but interestingly they come from every discipline except economics. In Austria, for example, the University of Linz set up Die Institut für die Gesamtanalyse der Wirtschaft in 2009, sponsored mainly by Arbeiterkammer Oberösterreich (the regional workers' chamber) and some left-wing banks. (In somewhat broken English, it is translated as the "Institute for Comprehensive Analysis of Economy".) Its website declares that its members "consciously challenge the mainstream of economical theory of the past three decades, which was marked by the neoliberal departure from a genuinely macroeconomic view . . ." 

One of its staff members, Jürgen Nordmann, who has a background in politics, history, mathematics and philosophy, is the author of a book called Der lange Marsch zum Neoliberalismus ("The Long March to Neoliberalism"). At its core are visceral critiques of Hayek and Karl Popper. In Germany, Joseph Vogl, a professor of literature, culture and media studies, caused a stir in 2010 with his critique of capitalism, Das Gespenst des Kapitals ("The Spectre of Capital"). 

Neoliberal economists appear to have conceded the field to other disciplines. That's a terrible mistake. Experience shows that sociologists and political scientists are not the most ardent defenders of liberty and free markets. The reason for the economists' diffidence, however, is easy to see. Their critics have few qualms about what Hayek called the "pretence of knowledge". Their world is enviably simple: they agree that the market is the problem and government the solution. In the public debate, that gives them a huge advantage over the advocates of free markets who feel challenged by the current crisis to go a lot farther than that, even though they don't agree among themselves and know how little one can know. The subject matter is perplexingly complicated; the arguments need to be differentiated. But since when does subtlety sell? 

Another open question among neoliberal economists is whether crisis is a moment for grand new designs or a more prudent piecemeal approach. On the debt crisis within the eurozone, for example, the more radical members of MPS aired their vision of competing currencies: let the eurozone break apart, abolish the European Central Bank and denationalise money. Some claimed that "no monetary policy is the best monetary policy". Others flirted with the idea floated by the former head of the Federation of German Industries, Hans-Olaf Henkel, of splitting the eurozone into two separate currency areas. Vaclav Klaus just shook his head at this naivety: "The denationalisation of money is not a relevant idea," he declared.