The grand myth of absolute happiness

Avijit Pathak

Sociologist

EVEN though we live in a terribly violent world characterised by endless war, militarism, new forms of authoritarianism, heightened economic inequality, climate crisis and multiple forms of societal neurosis, there seems to be no end to our quest for happiness. Furthermore, in modern times, as we love the virtue of mathematical precision, even a highly qualitative and subjective experience like happiness is quantified and measured. Every year, the United Nations Sustainable Development Solutions Network ranks and hierarchises different countries on the basis of what it regards as the measurable ‘happiness index’ — encompassing gross domestic product, life expectancy, state efficiency, freedom, social support, or for that matter, altruistic behaviour. While Finland continues to be the ‘happiest country’, India ranked 126th out of 143 nations in the World Happiness Report 2024.

Well, I do not altogether deny the merits of a report of this kind. Of course, a reasonable degree of economic security, social welfare policies by the state, better medical facilities, fulfilment in the sphere of work, the presence of a dialogic civil society and political freedom generate some sort of contentment in everyday life. However, it is equally important to realise that there is no such thing as pure happiness because our finest moments of joy and contentment are always accompanied by some sort of anxiety — say, the fear of losing whatever we have, be it our material wealth, the vitality of the body, or the company of the loved ones. We strive for absolute happiness, yet it deludes us. No wonder there is no dearth of life coaches, motivational speakers and spiritual gurus in our times who repeatedly instruct us to follow a set of ‘techniques’ — meditative practices, breathing exercises, mindfulness, etc. — in order to be ‘happy’ and ‘successful’.

But then, it has to be realised that happiness is not an instant remedial capsule to be consumed from self-help books, or special retreats in some ashrams and monasteries. In fact, if we really want to move towards a modestly peaceful and contented world, we need to build a bridge between the self and the world, or the political and the spiritual. Think of, for instance, the absurdity of teaching ‘mindfulness’ (the ability to live in the present without any obsession with the trauma of the past or the anxiety of the future) to a person tormented by hunger, malnutrition and homelessness. Or, think of the psychic violence you would inflict on an unemployed young man, continually rejected by potential employers, if you ask him to read a self-help bestseller like I’m OK — You’re OK, and feel good and positive. It is as absurd as teaching the lessons of ‘minimalism’ to a slum-dweller or a homeless person. We cannot move towards a reasonable degree of contentment without altering the political and economic foundations of a highly asymmetrical, uneven and exploitative world. No, Palestinians cannot be happy amid the normalisation of genocide.

Likewise, if, as the India Employment Report 2024 indicates, 83 per cent of jobless Indians are the youth; or, as a research paper titled ‘The Rise of Billionaire Raj’ reveals, if the top 1 per cent of the people in India hold 40 per cent of the wealth, it is not difficult to imagine the intensity of pain, agony, fear and stress an average Indian experiences. We might have thousands of babas, gurus and self-help tutors constantly offering us diverse brands of salvation capsules, but then, the harsh reality is that ours is an unhappy nation. Possibly, without a political/economic restructuration of our society, we cannot create a social milieu conducive to the growth of a reasonably contented population.

This is not to suggest that I am denying the significance of introspection or the need for inner calmness for a meaningful, sustainable and compassionate living. While a reasonable degree of economic security and political freedom makes our everyday living somewhat comfortable, we cannot move towards a more meaningful and peaceful existence (not necessarily absolutely ‘happy’ existence) without what I would regard as the religiosity of life. For instance, this religiosity is about the cultivation of the art of non-consumptionist mode of living. The fundamental needs of food, shelter, life-affirming education, political freedom and non-alienated work have to be distinguished from the virus of irresistible greed — the greed that a market-driven society has normalised.

Yes, there is no happiness in a society that sanctifies the principle of mindless consumption, or the greed for the ever-growing new products and styles that the neoliberal market constantly invents. This craving disrupts tranquillity and calmness; instead, it causes envy, restlessness and the chronic fear of lagging behind. Likewise, it is equally important to cultivate the art of developing a relational self — the self that finds immense joy in apparently simple acts — say, meeting a friend without any ulterior motive, or, walking through a mountain terrain and experiencing the glimpses of the infinite. This art of being ‘ordinary’ — yet filled with creative surplus — helps us to free ourselves from the neurotic restlessness for achieving a mythical ‘success’, or running after a mirage of a ‘perfect and happy living’ through which the seductive ‘culture industry’ continually deludes us.

The religiosity of life requires the courage to accept the inherent melancholy of existence; it is like accepting that not everything is under our control. Everything we try to hold is transitory and impermanent. Inexplicable accidents and tragedies can shatter our existence without any prior notice; and none can escape the reality of death — the ultimate reduction of our inflated egos into nothingness. Possibly, this realisation, far from making us bitter, enables us to pass through this earthly existence with sacred tears. 

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