Is everybody happy? FSU professor writes the book on a most elusive emotion
by Barry Ray
Happiness: It's what's hot.
Everywhere we look, happiness—or at least the promise of it—is a highly sought commodity. From advertising to contemporary economic theory, psychology and psychopharmacology and, of course, religion, the search for happiness is the great motivating force of our time. Why, then, aren't we any happier?
The all-out pursuit of happiness is precisely the reason it's so difficult to attain, says Darrin M. McMahon. An associate professor of history at Florida State University, McMahon knows of what he speaks. His new book, "Happiness: A History," looks back through some 2,000 years of Western politics, culture and thought, searching for evidence of how our contemporary obsession with being happy came about.
"It is only relatively recently that human beings have begun to think of happiness as not just an earthly possibility, but also in some ways as on obligation or entitlement, a natural human right," McMahon said. "As I try to show in the book, this has had an unintended effect. When we think of happiness as our natural condition—the way we ought to be—then it becomes natural to blame ourselves or others when we are not happy, as if somehow we've been done an injustice or done something wrong ourselves. I think this has created a new and very modern pressure, even a new type of unhappiness: I call it the unhappiness of not being happy.
"All you have to do is open a magazine or turn on the television and you are bombarded with pictures of apparently happy people smiling away," he said. "If you don't feel the same way—and most people don't most of the time—this can be kind of a downer."
In his book, McMahon shows that our modern concept of happiness is a relatively recent development, the product of a dramatic revolution in human expectations over the past 300 years.
"Dating back to the ancient Greeks, the concept of happiness was linked to luck or good fortune—a gift from the gods, as it were," he said. "Slowly from this notion of happiness as something we chance upon, or that is granted to the fortunate, human beings developed an understanding of happiness as being within their own power to achieve. That idea really took off during the Enlightenment in the 18th century."
When Thomas Jefferson wrote of "the pursuit of happiness" as an inalienable right in the Declaration of Independence, he charted new territory—and helped shape the world view of all who would follow, particularly in the United States.
"Our expectations of happiness have been raised enormously—perhaps too high," McMahon said.
"In modern society, we demand not only the right to pursue happiness but expect its attainment as well. In the process, we have largely forgotten what the Founding Fathers originally intended, although we go on chasing this elusive thing all the same."
So, after studying 2,000 years of happiness, did he find the true secret to happiness?
"Unfortunately, no," McMahon said. "As a matter of fact, I would be suspicious of any author who claims to have discovered a formula for happiness. We all want so desperately to be happy that it makes us susceptible to false promises. History is full of such tragic swindles. Think of the Soviet Union; Stalin called himself the 'constructor of happiness,' yet millions of people died during the construction.
"I'm not sure that reading my book will make a person happier, but I do think that by comparing one's own striving with that of some of the most interesting and insightful pursuers in Western history, readers will gain perspective on what it is they're really after," McMahon said. "That may help to at least clarify the search, which is a good place to start."
Professor Neil Jumonville, the chairman of FSU's department of history, praised McMahon for his ability to make history accessible to all types of audiences.
"Darrin McMahon is one of the most talented and exciting historians working at the moment," he said. "The secret to his success is that, as in his new book on happiness, he is able to appeal to both professional scholars and the normal reader on the street. He does this not only in the choice of his topics but in the accessible and interesting way that he writes. This is the mark of a historian who will have great recognition and impact, and not only for the moment."
In addition to "Happiness: A History," McMahon has written more than 20 articles on European history, culture and politics for publications including The Wall Street Journal, The New York Times and The Boston Globe. He also has been featured on National Public Radio.
news archive FSU NEWS
Op-Ed Contributor In Pursuit of Unhappiness
New York Times December 29, 2005
By DARRIN M. MCMAHON Published: December 29, 2005 Tallahassee, Fla.
HAPPY New Year!" We seldom think of those words as an order. But in some respects that is what they are.
Doesn't every American want to be happy? And don't most Americans yearn, deep down, to be happy all of the time? The right laid out in our nation's Declaration of Independence - to pursue happiness to our hearts' content - is nowhere on better display than in the rites of the holiday season. With glad tidings and good cheer, we seek to bring one year to its natural happy conclusion, while preparing to usher in a happy new year and many happy returns.
Like the cycle of the seasons, our emphasis on mirth may seem timeless, as though human beings have always made merry from beginning to end. But in fact this preoccupation with perpetual happiness is relatively recent. As Thomas Carlyle observed in 1843, " 'Happiness our being's end and aim' is at bottom, if we will count well, not yet two centuries old in the world."
Carlyle's arithmetic was essentially sound, for changes in both religious and secular culture since the 17th century made "happiness," in the form of pleasure or good feeling, not only morally acceptable but commendable in and of itself. While many discounted religious notions that consigned life in this world to misery and sin, others discovered signs of God's providence in earthly satisfaction. The result was at once to weaken and transpose the ideal of heavenly felicity, in effect bringing it to earth. Suffering was not our natural state. Happy was the way we were meant to be.
That shift was monumental, and its implications far reaching. Among other things, it was behind the transformation of the holiday season from a time of pious remembrance into one of unadulterated bliss. Yet the effects were greater than that. As Carlyle complained, "Every pitifulest whipster that walks within a skin has had his head filled with the notion that he is, shall be, or by all human and divine laws ought to be, 'happy.' "
Carlyle was notoriously cranky, but his central insight - that the new doctrine of happiness tended to raise expectations that could never possibly be fulfilled - remains as relevant today as it was in 1843. Despite enjoying far better living standards and more avenues for pleasure than before, human beings are arguably no happier now than they've ever been.
Sociologists like to point out that the percentage of those describing themselves as "happy" or "very happy" has remained virtually unchanged in Europe and the United States since such surveys were first conducted in the 1950's. And yet, this January, like last year and next, the self-help industry will pour forth books promising to make us happier than we are today. The very demand for such books is a strong indication that they aren't working.
Should that be a cause for concern? Some critics say it is. For example, economists like Lord Richard Layard and Daniel Kahneman have argued that the apparent stagnancy of happiness in modern societies should prompt policymakers to shift their priorities from the creation of wealth to the creation of good feelings, from boosting gross national product to increasing gross national happiness.
But before we take such steps, we might do well to reflect on the darker side of holiday cheer: those mysterious blues that are apt to set in while the streamers stream and the corks pop; the little voice that even in the best of souls is sometimes moved to say, "Bah, humbug." As Carlyle put it, "The prophets preach to us, 'Thou shalt be happy; thou shalt love pleasant things.' " But as he well knew, the very commandment tended to undermine its fulfillment, even to make us sad.
Carlyle's sometime friend and long-time rival, the philosopher John Stuart Mill, came to a similar conclusion. His words are all the more worth heeding in that Mill himself was a determined proponent of the greatest happiness for the greatest number. "Ask yourself whether you are happy, and you cease to be so," Mill concluded after recovering from a serious bout of depression. Rather than resign himself to gloom, however, Mill vowed instead to look for happiness in another way.
"Those only are happy," he came to believe, "who have their minds fixed on some object other than their own happiness; on the happiness of others, on the improvement of mankind, even on some art or pursuit, followed not as a means, but as itself an ideal end. Aiming thus at something else, they find happiness by the way." For our own culture, steeped as it is in the relentless pursuit of personal pleasure and endless cheer, that message is worth heeding.
So in these last days of 2005 I say to you, "Don't have a happy new year!" Have dinner with your family or walk in the park with friends. If you're so inclined, put in some good hours at the office or at your favorite charity, temple or church. Work on your jump shot or your child's model trains. With luck, you'll find happiness by the by. If not, your time won't be wasted. You may even bring a little joy to the world.
Darrin M. McMahon, a professor of history at Florida State, is the author of the forthcoming"Happiness: A History."
by Barry Ray
Happiness: It's what's hot.
Everywhere we look, happiness—or at least the promise of it—is a highly sought commodity. From advertising to contemporary economic theory, psychology and psychopharmacology and, of course, religion, the search for happiness is the great motivating force of our time. Why, then, aren't we any happier?
The all-out pursuit of happiness is precisely the reason it's so difficult to attain, says Darrin M. McMahon. An associate professor of history at Florida State University, McMahon knows of what he speaks. His new book, "Happiness: A History," looks back through some 2,000 years of Western politics, culture and thought, searching for evidence of how our contemporary obsession with being happy came about.
"It is only relatively recently that human beings have begun to think of happiness as not just an earthly possibility, but also in some ways as on obligation or entitlement, a natural human right," McMahon said. "As I try to show in the book, this has had an unintended effect. When we think of happiness as our natural condition—the way we ought to be—then it becomes natural to blame ourselves or others when we are not happy, as if somehow we've been done an injustice or done something wrong ourselves. I think this has created a new and very modern pressure, even a new type of unhappiness: I call it the unhappiness of not being happy.
"All you have to do is open a magazine or turn on the television and you are bombarded with pictures of apparently happy people smiling away," he said. "If you don't feel the same way—and most people don't most of the time—this can be kind of a downer."
In his book, McMahon shows that our modern concept of happiness is a relatively recent development, the product of a dramatic revolution in human expectations over the past 300 years.
"Dating back to the ancient Greeks, the concept of happiness was linked to luck or good fortune—a gift from the gods, as it were," he said. "Slowly from this notion of happiness as something we chance upon, or that is granted to the fortunate, human beings developed an understanding of happiness as being within their own power to achieve. That idea really took off during the Enlightenment in the 18th century."
When Thomas Jefferson wrote of "the pursuit of happiness" as an inalienable right in the Declaration of Independence, he charted new territory—and helped shape the world view of all who would follow, particularly in the United States.
"Our expectations of happiness have been raised enormously—perhaps too high," McMahon said.
"In modern society, we demand not only the right to pursue happiness but expect its attainment as well. In the process, we have largely forgotten what the Founding Fathers originally intended, although we go on chasing this elusive thing all the same."
So, after studying 2,000 years of happiness, did he find the true secret to happiness?
"Unfortunately, no," McMahon said. "As a matter of fact, I would be suspicious of any author who claims to have discovered a formula for happiness. We all want so desperately to be happy that it makes us susceptible to false promises. History is full of such tragic swindles. Think of the Soviet Union; Stalin called himself the 'constructor of happiness,' yet millions of people died during the construction.
"I'm not sure that reading my book will make a person happier, but I do think that by comparing one's own striving with that of some of the most interesting and insightful pursuers in Western history, readers will gain perspective on what it is they're really after," McMahon said. "That may help to at least clarify the search, which is a good place to start."
Professor Neil Jumonville, the chairman of FSU's department of history, praised McMahon for his ability to make history accessible to all types of audiences.
"Darrin McMahon is one of the most talented and exciting historians working at the moment," he said. "The secret to his success is that, as in his new book on happiness, he is able to appeal to both professional scholars and the normal reader on the street. He does this not only in the choice of his topics but in the accessible and interesting way that he writes. This is the mark of a historian who will have great recognition and impact, and not only for the moment."
In addition to "Happiness: A History," McMahon has written more than 20 articles on European history, culture and politics for publications including The Wall Street Journal, The New York Times and The Boston Globe. He also has been featured on National Public Radio.
news archive FSU NEWS
Op-Ed Contributor In Pursuit of Unhappiness
New York Times December 29, 2005
By DARRIN M. MCMAHON Published: December 29, 2005 Tallahassee, Fla.
HAPPY New Year!" We seldom think of those words as an order. But in some respects that is what they are.
Doesn't every American want to be happy? And don't most Americans yearn, deep down, to be happy all of the time? The right laid out in our nation's Declaration of Independence - to pursue happiness to our hearts' content - is nowhere on better display than in the rites of the holiday season. With glad tidings and good cheer, we seek to bring one year to its natural happy conclusion, while preparing to usher in a happy new year and many happy returns.
Like the cycle of the seasons, our emphasis on mirth may seem timeless, as though human beings have always made merry from beginning to end. But in fact this preoccupation with perpetual happiness is relatively recent. As Thomas Carlyle observed in 1843, " 'Happiness our being's end and aim' is at bottom, if we will count well, not yet two centuries old in the world."
Carlyle's arithmetic was essentially sound, for changes in both religious and secular culture since the 17th century made "happiness," in the form of pleasure or good feeling, not only morally acceptable but commendable in and of itself. While many discounted religious notions that consigned life in this world to misery and sin, others discovered signs of God's providence in earthly satisfaction. The result was at once to weaken and transpose the ideal of heavenly felicity, in effect bringing it to earth. Suffering was not our natural state. Happy was the way we were meant to be.
That shift was monumental, and its implications far reaching. Among other things, it was behind the transformation of the holiday season from a time of pious remembrance into one of unadulterated bliss. Yet the effects were greater than that. As Carlyle complained, "Every pitifulest whipster that walks within a skin has had his head filled with the notion that he is, shall be, or by all human and divine laws ought to be, 'happy.' "
Carlyle was notoriously cranky, but his central insight - that the new doctrine of happiness tended to raise expectations that could never possibly be fulfilled - remains as relevant today as it was in 1843. Despite enjoying far better living standards and more avenues for pleasure than before, human beings are arguably no happier now than they've ever been.
Sociologists like to point out that the percentage of those describing themselves as "happy" or "very happy" has remained virtually unchanged in Europe and the United States since such surveys were first conducted in the 1950's. And yet, this January, like last year and next, the self-help industry will pour forth books promising to make us happier than we are today. The very demand for such books is a strong indication that they aren't working.
Should that be a cause for concern? Some critics say it is. For example, economists like Lord Richard Layard and Daniel Kahneman have argued that the apparent stagnancy of happiness in modern societies should prompt policymakers to shift their priorities from the creation of wealth to the creation of good feelings, from boosting gross national product to increasing gross national happiness.
But before we take such steps, we might do well to reflect on the darker side of holiday cheer: those mysterious blues that are apt to set in while the streamers stream and the corks pop; the little voice that even in the best of souls is sometimes moved to say, "Bah, humbug." As Carlyle put it, "The prophets preach to us, 'Thou shalt be happy; thou shalt love pleasant things.' " But as he well knew, the very commandment tended to undermine its fulfillment, even to make us sad.
Carlyle's sometime friend and long-time rival, the philosopher John Stuart Mill, came to a similar conclusion. His words are all the more worth heeding in that Mill himself was a determined proponent of the greatest happiness for the greatest number. "Ask yourself whether you are happy, and you cease to be so," Mill concluded after recovering from a serious bout of depression. Rather than resign himself to gloom, however, Mill vowed instead to look for happiness in another way.
"Those only are happy," he came to believe, "who have their minds fixed on some object other than their own happiness; on the happiness of others, on the improvement of mankind, even on some art or pursuit, followed not as a means, but as itself an ideal end. Aiming thus at something else, they find happiness by the way." For our own culture, steeped as it is in the relentless pursuit of personal pleasure and endless cheer, that message is worth heeding.
So in these last days of 2005 I say to you, "Don't have a happy new year!" Have dinner with your family or walk in the park with friends. If you're so inclined, put in some good hours at the office or at your favorite charity, temple or church. Work on your jump shot or your child's model trains. With luck, you'll find happiness by the by. If not, your time won't be wasted. You may even bring a little joy to the world.
Darrin M. McMahon, a professor of history at Florida State, is the author of the forthcoming"Happiness: A History."