The Pursuit of Happiness
In a world of vast oceans, jungles, dolphins, bungee jumping and chocolate hobnobs, how did all the stuff that makes us feel glad to be alive get relegated to such a small portion of our existence. How did the world we built around ourselves begin to get in the way?
This is an extract from The Difference Manifesto by Ben Wallace, which explores why diverse societies thrive, and why systems of order lead to collapse. To read more from the book purchase a copy here.
In wealthy Europe and America, a lot of people actually got everything that the primitive animal parts of their brains wanted. We got a roof over our heads, a cheap supply of sugary, salty and fatty foods, and somewhere to hang out 9–5 that kept us off the streets. And now, like every empire that’s striven and risen and fallen, it feels a bit like we’re waddling into irrelevancy; too flabby to keep up with a global economy; an ascendant China and south-east Asia. This is a view that writer John Steinbeck took, writing to a friend in 1959 about (among other things) a pet parrot:
Adlai, do you remember two kinds of Christmases? There is one kind in a house where there is little and a present represents not only love but sacrifice. The one single package is opened with a kind of slow wonder, almost reverence…
…Then there is the other kind of Christmas with present piled high, the gifts of guilty parents as bribes because they have nothing else to give. The wrappings are ripped off and the presents thrown down and at the end the child says — “Is that all?” Well, it seems to me that America now is like that second kind of Christmas. Having too many things they spend their hours and money on the couch searching for a soul…If I wanted to destroy a nation, I would give it too much and would have it on its knees, miserable, greedy and sick.
In the 50s Steinbeck’s country — the USA — is sinking into apathy. With every material whim granted, and less and less to struggle for, there’s less to aspire to, and less that is special. America, for Steinbeck, is sick with excess.
There a definite truth in Steinbeck’s observation. It’s easy to understand how an extravagant mountain of presents makes it impossible for a child to appreciate the value and uniqueness of any one toy. By extension, we can see how easy, cheap access to fast food, music, Netflix, Buzzfeed, flat-screen TVs, washing machines and frankly incredible high quality free porn would desensitise us to more simple things we once appreciated. Our daily household chores now take minutes, and a half-hour trip to Blockbuster Video is now accomplished in the click of a button; maybe we have become spoiled. Still, I don’t buy it as the whole story.
Another man of letters, Sir Aldous Huxley (he actually never made Sir, but let’s pretend), described in his book Brave New World a civilization where all human desires are either satisfied, or suppressed through genetics and conditioning — there’s abundant no-strings-attached sex, and a wealth of supersonic helicopters. When I read it for the first time I thought it was about the evils of technology, and how science was going to make us less and less equal. What I’d tell you if you asked me now is that it’s actually about how removing the risk and struggle from our lives — and granting instant gratification — makes us less human. Bernard Marx — the ‘hero’ — is a freak and social outcast because he harbours frustrated desires for things that he shouldn’t. Unlike the other satisfied folks in the book he is a neurotic human, and we relate to him because he is insecure and inadequate: he doesn’t fit in, he can’t get what he wants. Like Steinbeck’s America, the horror of Huxley’s utopia is that in negating our desires we have nothing to strive for to better ourselves. We have a questionable reason to exist at all.
The ‘sickness of excess’ is only part of the equation. By steadily automating the menial tasks in our lives (through microwave ovens and self-driving cars) we eliminate tasks that we once felt satisfied in performing as part of pursuing a different and better life. This gives us headspace and time to be occupied by other things, but unfortunately has taken away the need for many people to be employed — society’s structure has not evolved to value and promote the activities that we find fulfilling, or which we feel provide meaning to us. Most accountants, software engineers and doctors receive salaries comparable to others in their field, but for our writers, artists, musicians, athletes and professional gamers, only a tiny minority generate enough money to live on. When traditional livelihoods are being eroded, what do the majority of people aspire to?
A 2012 UCLA study found that the most popular future goal amongst a large sample of 10–12 year olds in America was being famous solely for the sake of being famous. It overshadowed hopes for financial success, achievement, or a sense of community. A further study isolated “The desire to be seen/valued” as the primary reason for seeking fame. Very few people will be unfamiliar with shows like Pop Idol, The X Factor or Big Brother. These shows — the very definition of manufactured celebrity — are what many people perceive as their one shot at fame. Our short attention spans mean that we forget that the F-listers they churn out have an exceptionally short shelf-life, and that 99% of the 1% who ‘make it’ are dumped inside of 6 months. The fact that every other newspaper headline is some pop-star on a drug binge, and every other photo one of Miley Cyrus’ or Nicki Minaj’s or Kim Kardashian’s ass, means that we still believe that celebrity — even for its own sake — is the shortest path to success.
It’s easy to pursue what everyone else pursues — following received wisdom will not ruffle feathers or make us uncomfortable in the short term. In the long term, though, it will almost invariably leave us unfulfilled. Following the crowd means you are many times more likely to follow the path to a middle-of-the-road, obscure, grey, desk life, and this is a problem that affects us regardless of our upbringing or intelligence. Speaking at a conference in Silicon Valley, Neal Stephenson famously noted of the PHDs and genius engineers he knew, “I saw the best minds of my generation…writing spam filters.” Leaving university years ago, I watched some of the most unique, creative minds of my leaving class willfully step onto the conveyor belt into corporate law; investment banking; mergers and acquisitions — careers they were expected to take up, and which they grudgingly tolerated, or (eventually) abandoned, but which few ever enjoyed.
Each of us is unique in our passions, talents and desires, which statistically (thanks maths!) makes it exceptionally unlikely that a ‘conventional’ life will be the one you find satisfying.
Especially in a world where the unreal promise of celebrity and fame is always dangled above our heads, it becomes so much harder to experiment with what could make you happy, and to depart from the views of the crowd. The first step to everyone being able to choose a path in life with impunity, and without the prejudice of their peers, is letting go of the preconceived notions of one life being better than another. One thing may be better for you but — thankfully — no-one else in this world is you. This means you get to be unique, and everyone else does too. Since we were hunter-gatherers our gradually increasing quality of life, plus the automation of mundane tasks, has given us more time to think, more time to worry, and more time to spend pursuing the things we want. Unfortunately, when you take away the simple things, what’s left is hard. Discovering a purpose, working out what you want to achieve, and working out the skills you need to do accomplish it are the hardest things we have to do with our lives. Peer pressure and the prevailing cult of celebrity are two devils on our shoulders — they are two unfortunate symptoms of our society that narrow our scope, and give us an easy, but misleading path to follow in the pursuit of happiness. They tell us that following what is Different is dangerous, unlikely to succeed; that others will look at us and sneer.
You can read more by Ben on Medium here, and The Difference Manifesto is available in both electronic and paperback form on Amazon. Follow @BANGwallace on Twitter for updates and extracts from the book.
