Archive | Donald Trump RSS feed for this section

Richard Layard’s Manifesto for Happiness

29 Feb

Layard at RSA

Personal success has become a major object of desire in the 21st century – and the struggle to achieve it can cause us tremendous stress. This was one of the verdicts delivered by the happiness expert Richard Layard in a talk about his latest book, Can we be happier? Evidence and Ethics, which he gave last month at the Royal Society of Arts in London.

(30 January; go to https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=id2PZbXHPZY  for a video recording).

In the book he offers a forceful elaboration on this theme. People wonder, he says, ‘why – if we are now so much richer than previous generations – we are not a lot happier. The answer is surely the ultra-competitive nature of the dominant culture. The objective it offers is success compared with other people. But, if I succeed, someone else has to fail. So we have set ourselves up for a zero-sum game: however hard we all try to succeed, there can be no increase in overall happiness.’ The narcissistic tendencies which encourage 31% of American school students to believe that they will one day be famous are also to be found ‘in the candidate whom American electors knowingly chose as their president in 2016. As Donald Trump elegantly put it: “Show me someone without an ego and I’ll show you a loser.” ‘  (Can we be happier?

This state of affairs, Layard believes, has come about, in part, through the collapse of religious belief in developed countries: nowadays, the default position of many of us is unadorned egotism. This is a cliché, but none the less true for that. It’s also come about, I might add, through the collapse of many aspects of communitarianism (eg. the prioritisation of public services in government spending plans), and through the rise of an ideology of individualism. 

But Layard has plans for dealing with our selfishness. Our goal, he says, shouldn’t be personal success, but the creation of as much happiness in the world as possible. This sounds desperately altruistic (not to say naïve), but that isn’t necessarily the case. Creating happiness for others, Layard maintains, inevitably means creating it for ourselves: we can’t tackle the rest of the world without working on ourselves at the same time. Or, as Anne Frank put it in her diary, ‘Whoever is happy will make others happy too … How wonderful it is that nobody need wait a single moment before starting to improve the world’.

Some of us think that improving the world requires wholesale political transformations, rather than just an aptitude for spreading happiness. But Layard wouldn’t necessarily disagree with us: he’s well aware of the problems of poverty and disempowerment. The solutions he offers, however, may simply not be adequate to confront the scale of the world’s angst. Some of his recommendations, in brief, are as follows:

  • Schools should measure the well-being of their students, and teach life-skills.
  • Workers need to be given more control over their work organisations.
  • Mental health is a crucial factor: therapy needs to be much more widely available, especially for children.
  • We need better town planning and public services to tackle, among other things, the great problem of loneliness.

Layard knows that implementing these measures takes money; but he believes that in richer countries (like ours) this should be achievable through a shift in government priorities, rather than a radical redistribution of wealth. As an illustration of the kind of policy changes he has in mind, he points out that in October 2019 the European Council called on its members ‘to put people and their wellbeing at the centre of policy design.’  (https://www.consilium.europa.eu/en/press/press-releases/2019/10/24/economy-of-wellbeing-the-council-adopts-conclusions/ ). New Zealand, Sweden and Iceland are among the countries which now have wellbeing budgets prioritising social and environmental factors rather than GDP (https://www.independent.co.uk/news/world/europe/iceland-gdp-wellbeing-budget-climate-change-new-zealand-arden-sturgeon-a9232626.html)

‘We’re at the beginning of a happiness revolution,’ Layard breezily announced to his audience at the RSA. If only, I thought. The UK is by no means the only country which is a long way from introducing measures such as these. And in the meantime we’re on the brink of climate disaster.

I’m not convinced that Layard has any real understanding of the philosophical complexities of the happiness question – or indeed any desire to get to grips with them. As far as he is concerned, addressing a list of objective criteria – life expectancy, town planning, generosity and so on – is what’s at issue here. He could be right – the ‘objective list’ may well be the way forward when it comes to spreading happiness (see this blog, 20 October 2016). I don’t feel personally that we can really knock his approach, which is nothing if not pragmatic. It’s just that it could be a lot more radical – and as a nation we’re a million miles from even making a start on the kind of programme which Layard is advocating.

 

 

 

 

 

Living intensely

10 Oct

‘When was the last time you did something for the first time?’ the American singer Darius Rucker asks us.  I’d like to reply, ‘Well yesterday I read a new review of a new book, The Life Intense: a Modern Obsession, by Tristan Garcia. Does that count?’ 

bungy jumping

Most people, I suspect, would say, ‘No.’  Reading isn’t actually doing anything, is it?  A few years ago, after a pleasant lunch in a King’s Cross pub, I was preparing to toddle back to my researches. ‘You’re going to drop dead one day in the British Library,’ my friend Richard commented. Just for a moment I thought he was conjuring up for me a vision of the ideal demise. Then I realised he was having a go at me – telling me that I wasn’t living life to the full. This, as far as he was concerned, involved three hour lunches, laughter, and another glass of red wine.  Lovely in its way – meeting up with friends has always been one of my greatest pleasures.  Still, I don’t want to spend all of my time doing it. And keeling over in the British Library still feels like my idea of a Good Death – provided it doesn’t happen for a while yet.

But a lifetime of reading probably doesn’t constitute most people’s image of a life lived to the full. In his review of The Life Intense (The Observer, 23 September 2018) Tim Adam refers to Alvin and Heidi Toffler’s 1970 book Future Shock, in which they predict that once society has met most people’s basic needs and provided them with a certain level of comfort, the economy will be increasingly directed, in the absence of organised religion, toward ‘psychic gratification’. In Chapter 10 ,’The Experience Makers’, they argue that manufacturers of goods will be striving to add a ‘psychic load’ to basic products (you’re not just drinking a cup of coffee, you’re doing an imaginary whirlwind circuit of Rome on a Vespa), and that we’ll see the emergence of ‘experience industries’ aimed at supplying us with a taste of adventure … danger … sexual thrills.  Anything to create the illusion that we’re really living. 

In his new book, Tristan Garcia maintains that the quality underpinning this culture and economy is the desire for intensity.  Desperate to escape from routine and mundanity,  we go racing after novel sensations and pastimes. ‘Status is increasingly measured not by what we earn, or what we contribute, but what we experience … The idea of intensity, of living to the limit, has become another way to fill the God-shaped hole, to prove to ourselves that we are fully alive.’  Garcia traces this yearning back to the Enlightenment, which reduced our world to gravity and atoms, and to the subsequent backlash against scientific rationalism during the Romantic Age, when feeling and sensation, wonder and awe, became the watchwords of a full-blooded existence.  Sensibility was taking over from sense. 

Reviewer Tim Adams thinks that the present-day craving for intensity may also be infecting our politics. ‘The electorate … is drawn to the purity of extremes rather than the pragmatism of compromise.’ Votes for Trump and for Brexit – the urge to rip up the rule book – are just two of the results. 

According to Garcia, we’re missing a lot if we continually go chasing after intense experiences. We’re missing out on subtlety, self-questioning, reflection.  This, for me, is an endorsement of a life spent reading.  Thinking, trying to understand,  are surely more sustainable as activities – both personally and environmentally – than the quest for novel sensations. Novelty, after all, is a word that can also be used to mean frippery and trivia.  And nothing under the sun would ever have induced me to take up bungee-jumping.

This, I think, is my cue to return to the British Library.

 

 

 

 

 

 

The three senses of happiness. Or is Donald Trump a happy man?

9 Jul

Over the last  twelve months I’ve been using this blog to examine a range of philosophical ideas about happiness. How do we define it? … do we need it? … and is it achievable? I’ve looked at hedonism, desire theories, and objective list theories. At the end of this process I’m inclined to go with the objective list as the best way to describe my own personal pursuit of happiness. But for me what has been far more striking is my growing scepticism about the morality of pursuing happiness in the first place. It seems almost inevitably to foster individualism and self-absorption. 

Donald Trump

I’m still not clear about the overall distinction between happiness and well-being, but I’m reassured to find that at least one person writing for ‘Plato’ – Stanford’s online encyclopedia of philosophy – sees the two terms as being  to a certain extent interchangeable. In one sense, according to the author of  Stanford’s ‘happiness’ entry, the discussion of ‘happiness’ concerns itself with what benefits a person and serves her interests; on this level it has the same meaning as ‘well-being’.

If you describe someone as happy in this sense, then you are making a value judgement (https://plato.stanford.edu/entries/happiness/  1.1.1: Two senses of ‘happiness’). Somebody with different values might disagree with you. Donald Trump – my example, not Stanford’s – might seem like a happy man to many people. He’s acquired  a lot of the things which he desires, including wealth and power. But others would certainly raise objections. A man who does so many bad things, they’d argue, can’t possibly be considered happy. Even if you’re convinced that most of what Trump does is good, and this is why he’s a happy man, you’re still expressing a value judgement about what constitutes ‘happiness’.

So ‘happiness’ in this sense denotes a life that, in your opinion, is going well for the person who is leading it. But the term can also be used to describe a state of mind, and here we move into the realm of psychology . If we refer to someone as being happy, what are we saying about his or her mental state?  In my next few entries, I’m going to be looking at this question, courtesy of the ‘Plato’ article.

There’s a third sense in which the word ‘happiness’ is used, and this is probably the one that we encounter most frequently. Happiness is …being with someone you love? a long lazy Sunday? a good cup of coffee?  It could be millions of things. The reason I’ve not written this blog for some time is that I’ve been working on two plays which were performed recently at a local festival. Right now I’m tempted to say that happiness is having completed a big project and feeling that it went pretty well. But how useful is that?

In ‘happiness is …’ statements we’re not talking about the nature of happiness, but about  some of its many possible sources. From a philosophical point of view these statements aren’t very interesting. To raise them to the level of philosophical enquiry you’d have to argue that the acquisition of things that people desire – coffee, Sundays, projects – is what makes people happy. Or you’d have to add  these items to an ‘objective list’ of the things that contribute to happiness. ‘You may not want a scary and demanding project to work on, but I’m here to tell you that it will make you happy in the long run.’  Well, so might a lot of things. Objective lists can’t possibly encompass all the myriad experiences or entities which have been identified over the years as representing the essence of happiness.

So of the three senses of ‘happiness’, I think probably only two  need to be taken seriously.