Jan Bransen

The truth belongs to all of us Ever since their inception, the social sciences have struggled with their methods and explanatory models. For what are the building blocks of social reality and in what sense is this reality a social one? And how are observations of and descriptive statements about this social reality possible? Here, the so-called ‘dramaturgical model of human behaviour’ makes visible the normativity of social reality, and also the inability of the social sciences to deal with the everyday presence of second and first persons in social reality. Thus, the role available to social scientists in social reality turns out to be problematic. If we move beyond the knowledge society, we will have ways to come to terms with truth claims; but it remains to be seen whether there will then still be a role for the social sciences as an institution.

In the debate leading up to the EU referendum in the United Kingdom, the British politician Michael Gove declared that "people in this country have had enough of experts". In the 2016 Presidential campaign in the United States, Donald Trump waged a war against the very idea of expertise. Yet if you are worried about your child's behaviour, don't know which laptop to buy, or just want to get fit, the answer is easy: ask an expert. Where do we draw the line? Why do we appear to know more and more collectively, yet less and less individually? Has expertise painted itself into a corner? Can we defend both science and common sense? In this engaging and much-needed book Jan Bransen explores these important questions and more. He argues that the rise of behavioural sciences has caused a sea change in the relationship between science and common sense. He shows how - as recently as the 1960s - common sense and science were allies in the battle against ignorance, but that since then populism and chauvinism have claimed common sense as their own. Bransen argues that common sense is a collection of interrelated skills that draw on both an automatic pilot and an investigative attitude where we ask ourselves the right questions. It is the very attitude of open-minded inquiry and questioning that Bransen believes we are at risk of losing in the face of an army of experts. Drawing on fascinating examples such as language and communication, money, the imaginary world of Endoxa, domestic violence, and quality of life, Don't be Fooled: A Philosophy of Common Sense is a brilliant and wry defence of a skill that is a vital part of being human.

When we first anticipated the research project concluded with this special issue, about 8 years ago, it seemed timely and appropriate to investigate the opportunities and the challenges of self-management in mental health care. At the time self-management was well on the rise in general health care, offering both empowerment to patients and efficiency and cost-effectiveness to the health care system. It seemed a most promising approach in an era that celebrates individualistic self-reliance. And we were sure about our insight that self-management in mental health care would deserve comprehensive investigation because “the self” that was supposed to do the management would itself be the core problem in psychiatric...

This paper argues that there are practical problems of such a kind that neither impartial morality nor rational choice theory can provide us with comfort and guidance in our attempt to make the right choice if confronted with such a problem. It argues that both morality and rational choice theory are bound to misconstrue problems of this kind. Appreciating the limits of both morality and rational choice theory, as currently discussed in the literature, enables us to identify the features of these particular practical problems, and allows us to elaborate the idea of an alternative of oneself, which is crucial to a proper understanding of the kind of practical problem the paper draws attention to.

Blindness in therapy? Love? Or science? In this paper we dispute what seems an obvious truism these days: that increasing the influence of scientific research on psychotherapy is a good thing. We begin with an exploration of two distinct capacities that contribute in significant ways to human flourishing: knowledge and love. We then argue that modern society rather onesidedly capitalizes on the growth of scientific knowledge. This has an important drawback because the dominant model of growth presupposed in scientific research is built on the idea of reducing the potentially disturbing influence of the subjective engagement of the scientist with the object of knowledge. This is ordinarily quite a fruitful idea that has, however, paradoxically bad effects in evidence-based therapy. This is the case, we argue, because in a scientifically informed therapy the therapist should, in some sense, try to be blind to the effects of his expertise on his clients’ expectations of his expertise. A scientific, disengaged perspective therefore frustrates the therapist’s need to invest in the formation of a charitable relationship with his clients. Next we argue that the popular prejudice against love – that it is blind – is not as plausible as it is considered to be. To be sure, love invites cognition to accept a subservient role, but, we argue, this has some advantages too. It encourages the lover to discern particularly positive and promising features of the object of his love, and this, we argue, is crucial to a successful therapy in two ways. On the one hand, the therapist needs to engage with these positive and promising features to succeed in building the needed charitable relationship with his clients. And on the other hand clients often go into therapy because they lack access to their own positive and promising features and are therefore unable to entertain a charitable relationship with themselves. We conclude that with respect to psychotherapy there might be good reason for contemporary society to capitalize on the growth of love, rather than the growth of knowledge.