We all think we know the way to happiness but cautionary tales about the pathway abound. For example, in the New York Times, Arthur C. Brooks*, tells the story of a 10th century ruler from Spain who lived with “fame, riches and pleasure beyond imagination” for over 50 years. Said the man: “I have diligently numbered the days of pure and genuine happiness which have fallen to my lot. They amount to 14.”
The modern consensus view about happiness is in line with the sobering calculations of the caliph from Cordoba more than a millennium ago. Of course, riches, fame and power are assets; however, they don’t produce the happiness that motivated the acquisitive effort in the first place. The situation is actually more serious. For the opposite of happiness is not mundane everydayness. The opposite of happiness is an unyielding misery—and a life on the run from its intensity and distress.
Brooks, president of the American Enterprise Institute, a think tank in Washington, D.C., believes in a happiness formula. If you have inherited genes that promote happiness; found very rewarding work and circumstances; avoid rivalrous boasts about the picture-perfect lives that your peers post on social media; turn your attention to faith, family and friendship; and “love people, use things,” you’ll be happy. I’m not quarrelling with Brooks’ view. But, I think that pursuing this elusive happiness is better approached with a different context in mind. Let me explain.
We are subject to many influential forces before and after we seriously begin to make our way in the world. For example, beyond mere necessity, we are provoked to strive relentlessly for the stuff that supposedly leads to happiness.
Thus, with our sights and expectations lopsidedly focused, we go about acquiring the stuff. And we may enjoy the stuff but, surprisingly, we don't enjoy our happiness. Misery is a poor fate, even for the most powerful man in the land—the caliph—paradoxically wealthy and impoverished at the same time.
Importantly, our receptivity to the acquisitive pathway does not take into account a critical factor regarding the subjectivity of happiness, namely, it is a variable of the authentic independence of our point of view. Only if it is the real thing, do we stand to gain our happiness.
We, here, know the true nature—the authentic character—of happiness. We understand that our original point of view or standpoint on what constitutes a happy life, though subjective, is not really our own. It’s highly vulnerable to mimicry, intimidation and the social pressure to conform, as well as to the instructions of brute instinct.
On the other hand, our subjectivity is also a creative force that makes it possible for us to be an independent determinant of our transformative fate. In fact, we can arrange or rearrange it via a deliberative process of coaxing the intelligence with which we view the world. This enables us to independently vet the forces acting on us. My point? Our happiness depends on whether or not we are the real thing.
The vocabulary of Autonomy and Life allows us to stand in a place that few stand and see what few see. No longer saddled with the conventional hype about happiness, we are free to discover what we really think and who we really are. We lose nothing (except the misery and a life on the run from it) when the point of view we possess and represent is truly our own.
*Articles on happiness by Arthur C. Brooks published in The New York Times 12.14.13 and 07.18.14.
Arnold Siegel is the founder of Autonomy and Life and leader of its Retreat Workshops and Advanced Classes.