Letters from Tomis

Second in a series of reflections on my thoughts after reading What is Marxism: An Introduction into Marxist Theory by Rob Sewell and Alan Woods. The thoughts, opinions, and any errors are mine alone

“Common sense,” that much-vaunted yet slippery concept, occupies an exalted place in the pantheon of human virtues. Politicians invoke it as the cornerstone of good governance; pundits present it as the antidote to ideology; and the proverbial man on the street wields it as a cudgel against the so-called ivory tower. Yet, for all its ubiquity, common sense is rarely examined. It is invoked with the same unthinking reverence one might reserve for a holy relic, as if its mere mention suffices to settle debates and silence dissent.

But is “common sense” a philosophy? To answer this question, we must confront the term with the critical scrutiny it so often escapes.

At first blush, common sense appears to be the very antithesis of philosophy. Where philosophy thrives on inquiry, complexity, and doubt, common sense prides itself on simplicity, immediacy, and certitude. It is the voice that whispers, “This is self-evident; why overthink it?” Yet herein lies the first complication: self-evidence is rarely self-evident. What seems like unassailable truth to one culture or individual may strike another as absurdity.

Consider, for example, the idea that monarchy is a natural form of governance—an article of common sense for centuries in Europe, now regarded (rightly) as an anachronism.

This historical variability exposes a key weakness in common sense: its tendency to masquerade as universal truth when it is, in fact, the sediment of cultural norms and personal prejudices. To call it a philosophy, then, would be to stretch the term beyond recognition. Philosophy is a deliberate and systematic inquiry into the nature of existence, knowledge, and ethics. Common sense, by contrast, is an amalgam of unexamined assumptions and inherited habits of thought. It is, if anything, the raw material from which philosophy emerges, a starting point to be interrogated rather than a destination to be celebrated.

But let us not dismiss common sense entirely. To do so would be both uncharitable and unwise. Common sense, in its purest form, is not devoid of merit. It reflects humanity’s capacity for pattern recognition and practical problem-solving. It reminds us, for instance, that fire burns, that hunger must be sated, and that cooperation is often preferable to conflict. These insights, rudimentary though they may be, form the bedrock of human survival. The trouble arises when common sense is mistaken for an all-encompassing worldview, immune to the refinements of reason and experience.

Here, the defenders of common sense reveal their true colors. They are not content to let it serve as a guide to practical affairs; they elevate it into a quasi-religion, a bulwark against intellectualism and skepticism. Witness the populist demagogue, President-Reelect Trump, who derides expert opinion as elitist, insisting that the “ordinary people” know better by virtue of their common sense. This rhetorical sleight of hand conflates simplicity with wisdom, and intuition with insight. It reduces complex phenomena—climate change, economic inequality, social justice—to caricatures that can be grasped without effort or nuance.

This is not philosophy; it is anti-philosophy. It is the deliberate abdication of thought in favor of platitudes. Philosophy demands that we question our assumptions, challenge our biases, and grapple with the uncomfortable truths that common sense prefers to ignore. It invites us to consider that what is “obvious” may be incomplete, and what is “natural” may be contingent. The philosopher, like the skeptic, is a gadfly, stinging the complacent certainties of common sense into life—or, as is often the case, into angry defiance.

Yet, before we consign common sense to the intellectual rubbish heap, let us acknowledge its potential as a philosophical ally. When tempered by humility and enriched by education, common sense can serve as a compass, pointing us toward the questions that demand deeper exploration. It reminds us that philosophy, for all its abstractions, must remain tethered to the realities of human existence. The greatest thinkers, from Socrates to Hume to Marx, understood this balance. They respected the instincts of common sense while subjecting them to the rigors of reason.

So, is common sense a philosophy? No, it is not. But neither is it wholly devoid of philosophical utility. It is, at best, the scaffolding on which philosophy builds and, at worst, the prison from which philosophy must escape. The task of the thoughtful individual is to know the difference. To quote the ever-prescient Bertrand Russell: “The trouble with the world is that the stupid are cocksure and the intelligent are full of doubt.” Common sense, in its unrefined form, is cocksure. Philosophy, in its highest form, is doubt. The question is not which to choose, but how to reconcile the two in the ceaseless pursuit of wisdom.

To conclude, let us put common sense in its proper place. It is a servant, not a master; a tool, not a temple. And if it dares to present itself as philosophy, let us remind it, with all the vigor of a true intellectual gadfly, that it is merely the prelude to the real symphony of thought.