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As De Angelis, Federici, and others have noted, there are "no commons without community." The concept of community, however (as, among others, Jean‐Luc Nancy and Roberto Esposito have shown), has a dark history continuing up until today, when extreme right‐wing or even downright fascist appropriations of the concept have understood it as a static and identitarian unity bound to a specific territory or ethnicity. While commons‐scholars try to circumvent this legacy by emphasizing the commons as a "praxis" (Dardot and Laval) or "organizational principle" (De Angelis), they thereby tend to neglect the important cultural and symbolic connotations of the concept of community (which, in part, seem to make right‐wing movements appealing for certain segments of the population). In my article, I want to raise the following question: Do we need a sense of community for a politics of the commons, and, if so, what concept of community should it be? To answer this question, I will refer back to the use of the concept of "common sense" (sensus communis) in Immanuel Kant's Critique of Judgment. Characteristic of Kant's use of the term is that it does not refer to an actually existing community, but rather to an imaginary community that is anticipated in our (aesthetic) judgment. Common sense, in other words, involves "acting as if"—with the dual dimensions of acting (i.e., the community is based in praxis) and as if (an imagined, anticipated community bordering between the fictional and the real).

As De Angelis, Federici, and others have noted, there are "no commons without community". The concept of community, however (as, among others, Jean‐Luc Nancy and Roberto Esposito have shown), has a dark history continuing up until today, when extreme right‐wing or even downright fascist appropriations of the concept have understood it as a static and identitarian unity bound to a specific territory or ethnicity. While commons‐scholars try to circumvent this legacy by emphasizing the commons as a "praxis" (Dardot and Laval) or "organizational principle" (De Angelis), they thereby tend to neglect the important cultural and symbolic connotations of the concept of community (which, in part, seem to make right‐wing movements appealing for certain segments of the population). In my article, I want to raise the following question: Do we need a sense of community for a politics of the commons, and, if so, what concept of community should it be? To answer this question, I will refer back to the use of the concept of "common sense" (sensus communis) in Immanuel Kant's Critique of Judgment. Characteristic of Kant's use of the term is that it does not refer to an actually existing community, but rather to an imaginary community that is anticipated in our (aesthetic) judgment. Common sense, in other words, involves "acting as if" - with the dual dimensions of acting (i.e., the community is based in praxis) and as if (an imagined, anticipated community bordering between the fictional and the real).

Abbreviations; Preface; Introduction; Chapter One: Americans Are Uninformed about Common Core; Chapter Two: The Myth of Federal Government Overreach; Chapter Three: Standards versus Curriculum; Chapter Four: The Political Game; Chapter Five: Trust or Accountability; Chapter Six: Fairness? Finally!; Chapter Seven: Teacher Gender and Fairness to Boys; Chapter Eight: Common Assessment; Chapter Nine: Paying Teachers for What Matters; Chapter Ten: Common Sense about Continuous Pass; Chapter Eleven: Common Sense Is Prevailing; Conclusion; References; Index.

Daniel S. Levine's Common Sense and Common Nonsense observes human decision making, ethics, and social organization as illuminated by the scientific disciplines of neural network theory, neuroscience, experimental psychology, and dynamical systems theory. It is a book whose aim is advocacy as well as research. Its goal is to use an understanding of our brains and minds to better operationalize Aldous Huxley's admonition to "try to be a little kinder." It wanders over examples from sociology, politics, economics, religion, literature, and many other fields but looks at all as examples of a few common themes. The "common nonsense" of the book's title refers to widespread popular beliefs that are harmful to human welfare and artificially limit human potential. The "common sense" refers to other popular beliefs that promote positive growth and are largely supported by the emerging results of psychology and neuroscience. A few of the book's major conclusions are listed below, first in the form of "bumper sticker statements" that appear in the preface, then in the form of longer "bullets" that appear in the first chapter.

Common is a novella set in the City of London over the summer of 2011. Written in the run-up to Occupy, it encompasses a crash in global markets caused by the downgrading of American debt, turbulence in the Eurozone and protests/riots that started in London before spreading across Britain. Written as Self-Appointed Artist in Residence, events in Common take place over a day. The book brings together the past and present/personal and political and asks; how can lay people understand more about the current economic crisis? How might subjectivity and political agency be combined to create a text that is both immediate and reflective? How might we make sense of crisis from within? What is the impact of the economy on the environment? Common draws on two key literary references. The gothic atmosphere of Edgar Allen Poe's story The Man of the Crowd, helped me find a tone of voice and develop the narrator's persona as outsider/insider/ detective/artist. The semi-autobiographical novel W, or the Memory of Childhood by Georges Perec was a model for autobiographical writing, uncertain memory and the use of fantasy to create allegory. Common is a metaphor for collapse (social, environmental and economic).

Anarchy is rarely or never upheld with consistency. In the pedagogy of Rousseau, there is a set purpose to let the child be guided by natural necessity rather than by human command, and to let him learn from the experience of physical facts rather than by obedience. "Keep the child solely dependent on things; you will have followed the order of Nature in the process of his upbringing. Never oppose to his unreasonable wishes any but physical obstacles or punishments resulting from the actions themselves — he will remember these punishments in similar situations. It is enough to prevent him from doing evil without forbidding him to do it …" (Emile, II). Remarkably, the theory that the method of authority is a poor substitute for the pedagogical power of nature has been accepted, in varying degree of enthusiasm or reluctance, by most schools of pedagogy and has demonstrated lasting power. Yet the authority of parents and tutors is present throughout pedagogical theories, even when it is passed over in silence. Childhood is the domain where the suppression of all authority is obviously impossible. The most radical constructs of anarchy, as soon as they rise above the level of idle rhetoric, admit of qualifications so far at least as the immature part of mankind is concerned. Anti-authoritarian theorists, with few exceptions if any, do not mean that authority should disappear or that it can ever cease to be a factor of major importance in human affairs. What thinkers opposed to authority generally mean is that authority can never be vindicated except by such deficiencies as are found in children, in the feeble-minded, the emotionally unstable, the criminally inclined, the illiterate, and the historically primitive.