What Makes Us Happy?
The Ricochet discussions here, here, and here reminded me of an article I read last year in The Atlantic and which I found incredibly moving. It’s the kind of article that I continue to send, apropos nothing, to friends and family and I am not exaggerating when I say that this piece—the most viewed online article in The Atlantic’s history—is a literary masterpiece. But you judge for yourself.
It asks, simply, what makes us happy?
At Harvard, in 1937, psychiatrists decided to answer this question by tracking nearly 270 well-adjusted, confident Harvard sophomores (all men) from their college days through the following decades. The Grant Study, as it is called, "is one of the longest-running—and probably the most exhaustive—longitudinal studies of mental and physical well-being in history." The study tracks the likes of a former member of the presidential cabinet, a best-selling novelist, a US president--John F. Kennedy Jr--and longtime Washington Post editor Ben Bradlee,
From their days of bull sessions in Cambridge to their active duty in World War II, through marriages and divorces, professional advancement and collapse—and now well into retirement—the men have submitted to regular medical exams, taken psychological tests, returned questionnaires, and sat for interviews.
These men were destined for success. But what happened to them ten years out of school, twenty, thirty, forty, fifty, sixty, seventy? The often tragic lives of these once happy men reveal the deep truths of human nature, human suffering, and human happiness. Their stories are Shakespearean.
The psychiatrist running the study, Dr. George Vaillant, "described the study files as hundreds of Brothers Karamazovs." Answering the journalist's questions about whether people change, what makes us happy, how we lead the good life, Vaillant wryly responded, "Why don’t you tell me when you have time to come up to Boston and read one of these Russian novels?"
Here's the story of one man:
Case No. 141
What happened to you?
You grew up in a kind of fairy tale, in a big-city brownstone with 11 rooms and three baths. Your father practiced medicine and made a mint. When you were a college sophomore, you described him as thoughtful, funny, and patient. “Once in awhile his children get his goat,” you wrote, “but he never gets sore without a cause.” Your mother painted and served on prominent boards. You called her “artistic” and civic-minded.
As a child, you played all the sports, were good to your two sisters, and loved church. You and some other boys from Sunday school—it met at your house—used to study the families in your neighborhood, choosing one every year to present with Christmas baskets. When the garbageman’s wife found out you had polio, she cried. But you recovered fully, that was your way. “I could discover no problems of importance,” the study’s social worker concluded after seeing your family. “The atmosphere of the home is one of happiness and harmony.”
At Harvard, you continued to shine. “Perhaps more than any other boy who has been in the Grant Study,” the staff noted about you, “the following participant exemplifies the qualities of a superior personality: stability, intelligence, good judgment, health, high purpose, and ideals.” Basically, they were in a swoon. They described you as especially likely to achieve “both external and internal satisfactions.” And you seemed well on your way. After a stint in the Air Force—“the whole thing was like a game,” you said—you studied for work in a helping profession. “Our lives are like the talents in the parable of the three stewards,” you wrote. “It is something that has been given to us for the time being and we have the opportunity and privilege of doing our best with this precious gift.”
And then what happened? You married, and took a posting overseas. You started smoking and drinking. In 1951—you were 31—you wrote, “I think the most important element that has emerged in my own psychic picture is a fuller realization of my own hostilities. In early years I used to pride myself on not having any. This was probably because they were too deeply buried and I unwilling and afraid to face them.” By your mid-30s, you had basically dropped out of sight. You stopped returning questionnaires. “Please, please … let us hear from you,” Dr. Vaillant wrote you in 1967. You wrote to say you’d come see him in Cambridge, and that you’d return the last survey, but the next thing the study heard of you, you had died of a sudden disease.
Dr. Vaillant tracked down your therapist. You seemed unable to grow up, the therapist said. You had an affair with a girl he considered psychotic. You looked steadily more disheveled. You had come to see your father as overpowering and distant, your mother as overbearing. She made you feel like a black sheep in your illustrious family. Your parents had split up, it turns out.
In your last days, you “could not settle down,” a friend told Dr. Vaillant. You “just sort of wandered,” sometimes offering ad hoc therapy groups, often sitting in peace protests. You broke out spontaneously into Greek and Latin poetry. You lived on a houseboat. You smoked dope. But you still had a beautiful sense of humor. “One of the most perplexing and charming people I have ever met in my life,” your friend said. Your obituary made you sound like a hell of a man—a war hero, a peace activist, a baseball fan.
So what's the lesson to be learned? What ultimately makes us happy? To Vaillant, love and intimacy are the key to human happiness.
...the power of relationships. “It is social aptitude,” he [Vaillant] writes, “not intellectual brilliance or parental social class, that leads to successful aging.” Warm connections are necessary—and if not found in a mother or father, they can come from siblings, uncles, friends, mentors. The men’s relationships at age 47, he found, predicted late-life adjustment better than any other variable, except defenses. Good sibling relationships seem especially powerful: 93 percent of the men who were thriving at age 65 had been close to a brother or sister when younger. In an interview in the March 2008 newsletter to the Grant Study subjects, Vaillant was asked, “What have you learned from the Grant Study men?” Vaillant’s response: “That the only thing that really matters in life are your relationships to other people.”
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Comments :
Jun '10
Re: What Makes Us Happy?
What I'd say to parents is, if you want your kids to be happy and well-adjusted, don't worry about them having enough self-esteem. Most kids have too much self-esteem. Make sure they have profound gratitude for what they've received, and know who sacrificed to obtain it for them. Ideally, they will then feel obligated to do the same for others, and that's what will make them truly happy.
Re: What Makes Us Happy?
So you think the key to happiness is a giving spirit? I think that's very close to what Vaillant concludes--since being giving is a part of love. It's what Vaillant would call a "positive emotion." To that point, I think this part of the article was very interesting (wait for it in the next post, since it's over 200 words).
Re: What Makes Us Happy?
Here's the article passage:
Jun '10
Re: What Makes Us Happy?
Although certainly not an original thought or construct, I believe that within every human soul there lives a desire to know and to be known; to love and be loved; to serve and be served. These needs are best met, and indeed map well to Vaillant's conclusion: love, intimacy and relationships.
As a ponder this and the other thread, I do wonder if a distinction should be made between being "happy" and having "joy." Happiness is often fleeting, but genuine joy in all its rareness seems timeless if not eternal. As a believer, I am known, loved and served - and am called to return this blessing both upward and outward. The pursuit of happiness is a temporal endeavor - and arguably worth pursuing. The pursuit of joy, however, seems eternal in nature, and worth pursuing more.
Jun '10
Re: What Makes Us Happy?
I remember reading about an elderly lady who owned a family restaurant for a few decades, and in later years owned it with her children. When she died, her children heard from scores of people who had come into the restaurant years before, and maybe ordered coffee and toast, because that's all they could afford, and their mother came back with a full meal for them, on the house. She had an instinct. She knew when people had a much bigger appetite than they could afford right then. That's the kind of legacy everyone should want to leave. And I'm sure that was the meal that their mother was happiest to serve. They heard those stories from other people--never from their mother.
Re: What Makes Us Happy?
Jim, what a great point about joy -- it recalls C.S. Lewis' book, Surprised by Joy, which is a memoir of his conversion to Christianity from atheism.
Etoile--that's a beautiful story of generosity. I've always thought that being called generous is one of the highest compliments that you can receive.
Obviously the people at that restaurant appreciated the elderly lady's generosity. But some people have a harder time opening their hearts to others, thus Vaillant's remark that “It’s very hard, for most of us to tolerate being loved.”
What makes it hard for people? Is it their pride? Fear?
Jul '10
Re: What Makes Us Happy?
Emily Esfahani Smith: But some people have a harder time opening their hearts to others, thus Vaillant's remark that “It’s very hard, for most of us to tolerate being loved.”
What makes it hard for people? Is it their pride? Fear? · Jul 30 at 8:44am
Ever have your heart crushed by a former lover or other loved one? Some folks are very sensitive to this and resolve to isolate themselves from the risk.
Re: What Makes Us Happy?
But Michael, that explanation makes sense if Vaillant was saying that it's hard for us to take the risk of loving someone--he's not saying that though. He's saying that it's hard for us to LET people love us.
Jun '10
Re: What Makes Us Happy?
This probably doesn't clarify it much, Emily, but whether we use the term love or grace, it is hard for us to receive something so intimate, perhaps because at some level we are convinced it is undeserved. Some of it may be pride, some of it may be fear. But I also think there may even be a modicum of shame involved. Some things we can receive easily. To receive something honest, genuine and unconditional is hard, because it brings light that contrasts what we perceive to be our own darkness (real or imagined). I think this is also why joy eludes so many. We simply cannot have joy in isolation, but being able to receive and accept unconditional love from others requires a vulnerability and a trust - a step we are all to often unwilling to take. We need to be able to both give AND receive. The Apostle Peter had to learn that lesson, when Jesus first tried to wash Peter's feet. I'm just thinking out loud here, but being able to receive requires us to allow that our sense of self-worth must be balanced against the value others see in us.
May '10
Re: What Makes Us Happy?
Emily Esfahani Smith: thus Vaillant's remark that “It’s very hard, for most of us to tolerate being loved.”
What makes it hard for people? Is it their pride? Fear?
Ahhh....deep waters here...
I think Jim is on the right track when he says:
"being able to receive and accept unconditional love from others requires a vulnerability and a trust - a step we are all to often unwilling to take."
For some, at least, to receive real love becomes overwhelming. The flood of emotions and thoughts, including the shame Jim mentions and the fear of hurt the Michael brings up, are all present and cannot be grasped. Is that it? It's a control thing? To acknowledge and return such love is to lose oneself, to be "carried away", to "fall into love" (the phrases are revealing.) It takes courage to let go and fall away from your familiar place of control.
Courage and trust, as Jim said. A better word is "faith", which brings us back to the religion question. If you think that you are in control, then you worry about letting go. When you realize that you're not, it get's easier.
May '10
Re: What Makes Us Happy?
My favorite philosophy professor hosted a class about "The Philosophy of Happiness". It was a fascinating course with many great debates.
The Beatles were not wrong when they famously claimed, "Love is all you need." They were only wrong to believe that love is simply known and simply expressed. Learning to love and to accept love is a lifelong journey, regardless of how one begins. None of us ever achieves perfect love, but some certainly understand it better than others. Those who best understand love light up every room they enter.
That said, I'm reminded of a local theologian's analogy concerning saints and sinners. Imagine yourself in a jumping contest with an Olympic long-jumper. You run and leap a whopping two meters. The Olympian jumps over seven. He seems to soar through the air... a superhuman feat, beautiful to behold! Now imagine you both tried to jump from Texas to New York. In such a trial, the Olympian is no better off than you. Likewise, though the love of saints is admirable and awe-inspiring, we are all equally dependent on God's grace for redemption.
Love as best you can, and you'll know happiness.
May '10
Re: What Makes Us Happy?
Love, by the way, is always personal, but not always about human beings (as Vaillant suggested). God is a Person. Part of love is learning to appreciate the beauty and wonder of the world which He has given. We find it in nature. We find it in the products of human intellect and imagination. One give and receive love even while alone, though no one should always be alone.
May '10
Re: What Makes Us Happy?
Jim Chase:
As a ponder this and the other thread, I do wonder if a distinction should be made between being "happy" and having "joy." Happiness is often fleeting, but genuine joy in all its rareness seems timeless if not eternal. · Jul 30 at 8:25am
This was the key point of debate throughout that "Philosophy of Happiness" course, in which we studied both philosophies and psychological studies. We never arrived at a definition for "happiness" or "joy" that everyone could agree with. Psychological researchers stubbornly avoid the word "love" most of the time; for similar reasons, I'd guess.
One aspect that studies seem to verify is that happiness is due more to internal conditions than external circumstances. Grumps tend to be grumps even in good circumstances, and joyful people can find joy anywhere. People can change, but they usually change only so much. And not all people have as wide a range of emotions.
One of Martin Seligman's "Signature Strengths" is the "ability to love and be loved".
May '10
Re: What Makes Us Happy?
I'll allow myself a long quote. It will be in two installments, due to the word limit.
Does this shed light on the fear of being loved?
=====
"Men," said the fox. "They have guns, and they hunt. It is very disturbing. They also raise chickens. These are their only interests. Are you looking for chickens?"
"No," said the little prince. "I am looking for friends. What does that mean--'tame'?"
"It is an act too often neglected," said the fox. It means to establish ties."
"'To establish ties'?"
"Just that," said the fox. "To me, you are still nothing more than a little boy who is just like a hundred thousand other little boys. And I have no need of you. And you, on your part, have no need of me. To you, I am nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world . . ."
"I am beginning to understand," said the little prince. "There is a flower . . . I think that she has tamed me . . ."
May '10
Re: What Makes Us Happy?
I lied; I'll need three installments. SORRY.
========
So the little prince tamed the fox. And when the hour of his departure drew near--
"Ah," said the fox, "I shall cry."
"It is your own fault," said the little prince. "I never wished you any sort of harm; but you wanted me to tame you . . ."
"Yes, that is so," said the fox.
"But now you are going to cry!" said the little prince.
"Yes, that is so," said the fox.
"Then it has done you no good at all!"
"It has done me good," said the fox, "because of the color of the wheat fields." And then he added:
"Go and look again at the roses. You will understand now that yours is unique in all the world. Then come back to say goodbye to me, and I will make you a present of a secret."
May '10
Re: What Makes Us Happy?
The little prince went away, to look again at the roses.
"You are not like my rose," he said. " No one has tamed you, and you have tamed no one. You are like my fox when I first knew him. He was only a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But I have made him my friend, and now he is unique in all the world."
And the roses were very much embarassed.
"You are beautiful, but you are empty," he went on. "One could not die for you. To be sure, an ordinary passerby would think that my rose looked just like you--the rose that belongs to me. But in herself alone she is more important than all the hundreds of you other roses: because it is she that I have watered; because it is she that I have put under the glass globe; because it is she that I have sheltered behind the screen; because it is for her that I have killed the caterpillars; because it is she that I have listened to, when she grumbled, or boasted, or ever sometimes when she said nothing. Because she is my rose.
May '10
Re: What Makes Us Happy?
Thanks, Sergei. That story does help.
When someone loves you, that person "invests" in you. That person tries to make you feel welcome, comfortable, secure, etc. That person tries to help you become a better human being through time and resources. That person offers knowledge of himself or herself... knowledge that can be abused. By accepting these investments, one becomes beholden to the person. To accept love makes one responsible to the giver, by sense of justice (a want for moral balance).
The greater the love, the more daunting that challenge.
But there are many reasons people reject love. Some are scared of the responsibility. Some indulge free will to grotesque extremes. Some hate themselves and don't feel worthy of love. Some people simply don't know how to love.
It took me a long time to realize just how many people do not grow up in loving families. When a child is raised without love, that person struggles greatly as an adult to be happy because no love seems resolute and unselfish. Modern culture encourages selfishness in romance and friendship. Too often, when someone is hurt, their advisers confuse callousness with strength. I agree, love is vulnerable.
May '10
Re: What Makes Us Happy?
The old song say “Different things to different people, that’s what happiness is.” Bing probably understood that that was a pretty shallow characterization because the whole song was about
Build a house with walls and a roof. Leave it plain, stark. No? OK. Add paint. Not yet? Add benches on the walls- nothing in the center, just benches. Nope. Add hangings on the walls. Stained-glass windows. Shelves, with knick-knacks. Photos. Rich tapestries and Oriental rugs. Paintings by Rembrandt and Monet. Pipe in sound.
The periphery is elegant, gaudy, rich. Vivid. Colorful.
The place is still an empty hulk- the trappings may be decorated, but there is nothing inside. That is the human soul trying to be “happy” by getting stuff- including company, people, sex, fame, praise.
There is still a hole in the middle that demands to be filled up; from the first humans, the spirit has demanded a relationship with a spirit. Call it God (I do), religion, “spirituality”, every generation has clawed to grasp the same thing, no matter how misguided the search.
And until the fill is the Right Stuff, there is nothing there.