The Common Man — Story, Setting & Ideas

The Scientists' Assumptions

The three scientists embody a specific brand of intellectual arrogance. Braun, with his multiple doctorates, treats the house as a specimen. Patricia O'Gara, whose hair should be in a pony tail but is drawn back in an 'efficient bun,' is impatient and testy. Ross Wooley, with his 'football hero heft,' is unhappy and expects the encounter to sound silly. Their dialogue reveals a shared condescension: they assume Crowley is stupid simply because he is average. Braun even carries a paper with data, treating the man as a variable to be measured.

The narrative voice reinforces this by describing Crowley as 'easygoing of face' with a 'slight tummy,' a 'goodish masculine specimen by Mid-Western standards.' The scientists' plan is to test an idea on him, but they have not anticipated that their subject might be listening in—or that he might have his own theories about intelligence and education.

Crowley's Counterargument

When Crowley reveals he has been eavesdropping, he dismantles the scientists' assumptions with pointed examples. He cites Edison and Khrushchev as men who succeeded without formal schooling, contrasting them with Braun, who 'spent half his life in school' yet earns less than a garage owner. He mocks Ross's potential earnings as a pro football player versus his work with 'test tubes and Bunsen burners.'

Crowley's voice is confident and condescending in turn. He claims the Common Man has never had a chance to express himself, and that politicians only pretend to be folksy. His critique extends to democracy itself: 'Sure, every four years the lousy politicians come around and they stick coonskin caps on their heads... but they aren't really common folks.' The scientists, especially Patricia, are caught off guard. She had tried to butter him up, but he saw through her game.

The Reversal of Roles

The power dynamic shifts entirely when Crowley takes charge. He orders Ross to sit down, tells Braun to listen, and exposes Patricia's pretense. His voice comes from an invisible easy-chair, an indentation magically appearing in the upholstery—a detail that underscores his newfound authority. The scientists, who arrived as experimenters, become the subjects of his lecture.

Crowley's argument is not just about intelligence but about respect. He insists that the Common Man is not stupid, and that the scientists' education has not made them smarter. The story thus inverts the expected hierarchy: the 'average man' outsmarts the experts. The excerpts leave unclear how this confrontation resolves, but the reversal is complete. The scientists' project to study the Common Man becomes a study of their own biases.

Readers should note that the excerpts provide only the opening and a middle scene, so the full arc of the experiment remains unknown. However, the story's strength lies in its dialogue and the gradual revelation of Crowley's intelligence. Pay attention to how the scientists' descriptions of the house and car—meant to signify averageness—contrast with Crowley's sharp rebuttals. The tale is a pointed satire of intellectual elitism, wrapped in a science-fiction premise that questions who really holds the power.

Years ago, shelving Mack Reynolds' The Common Man, I smiled at how its quiet everyman out-thinks the clever scientists. That same gentle subversion lingers in my worn copy of Craphound — Reading Notes, where the overlooked often hold the truest observations. They sit together now, two old friends, whispering about outsiders who see clearly.