In West Palm Beach, Florida, on the night of Wednesday, November 6, as Donald Trump delivered his victory speech, his tone suddenly changed to suggest self-evidence: "[This campaign was a] historic realignment. Uniting citizens of all backgrounds around a common core of common sense. You know, we're the party of common sense." Indeed, who wouldn't want, as the victorious presidential candidate listed, "security," "great education," a "powerful military," and ultimately, "the most incredible future"?

It's hard to contradict the US president-elect on any of these points, however vague they are. That's the aim of the "common sense" rhetorical strategy, widely employed by Trump during the campaign, as well as during his first term (2016-2020).

The Republican is, of course, neither the only nor the first politician to resort to it. For decades, indeed centuries, men and women of all ideological persuasions have regularly used this argument of authority to justify their policies. However, by establishing the Republican Party as the party of "common sense," the president-elect illustrates a dynamic that seems specific to the 21^st century. This trend involves many populist figures on the right, and even the far right, systematically referencing common sense.

"Common sense" was also on everyone's lips at the National Conservatism Conference, held in Brussels on April 16 and 17, where European far-right leaders and intellectuals gathered. From Croatian MEP Ladislav Ilcic to former British home secretary Suella Braverman, each had been keen to present the policies pursued by progressive pro-European elites as going against common sense – meaning, against traditional, particularly Christian, values.

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