Hedonic Adaptation

I passed by a middle-aged homeless man siting on the curb. He looked pretty unkempt, like a man without access to facilities. His eyes were locked on the ground as he rocked aimless back and forth. I think he had been in this position for a while.

I did to my best to empathized with him and imagined how it would be like if I were in his shoes. What would it feel like to live to middle-age and have homelessness, mental illness, and generally having nobody give a shit about you to be the cumulation of your life’s work? I pondered for a few moments, and felt a horrible feeling shoot into the pit of my stomach. That fucking sucked.

Then my thoughts switched to my job. Our product is in need of serious work, we don’t have the resources to make everything happen, and I barely know what I’m doing. Then I felt that same horrible feeling at the pit of my stomach. It fucking sucked.

I felt that same negative emotion, for two VERY disproportionate problems, at about the same intensity. And of course then, I didn’t give a shit about him anymore — I’ve got my own problems and (to me) they are no less pressing than that homeless man’s utter failure in modern society. Is it because I’m not capable of fully empathizing? Or perhaps the homeless himself has changed via hedonic adaptation — that he has adapted to his living conditions so that his happiness actually has a lower baseline.

Research into happiness of people who became paraplegics in accidents found although they hopelessly unhappy during the first few weeks, after a year, their happiness returns to about the same levels as before the accident. And life goes on.

It’s weird to think a homeless man living in complete squalor may feel no worse than I daily. Or on the other spectrum, that billionaires have problems too and feel no happier.

But I wouldn’t know. I’m not good at fully empathizing.