Our Future Happiness
My favourite word these days is “sustainable”. Maybe I’m hopping right on a bandwagon, embracing what’s likely to become a cliché in the very near future, but everything about this word appeals to me, including all of the different ways it’s used. There’s sustainable energy, sustainable business models, sustainable education, sustainable food sources, sustainable architecture, sustainable social programs…it goes with everything. It conjures up feelings of stability, of dependability, of predictability, all those things we’re missing in 2024, and have been for a number of years.
As far as I can see, nothing about this word connotes ease, speed, or convenience. Making things that last takes planning, work, and foresight. But there’s just something about the feeling that important things are doable, and doable for at least the foreseeable future that’s incredibly appealing. I’ll put in the work, and I’ll keep putting in the work if it means something will be useful, helpful, and if it will stay put. “Sustainable” doesn’t mean we get to have it all. Sometimes it means we have to make do with far less, but it also means we won’t have nothing. If we manage our expectations, check our consumption, and let go of some pretty outdated assumptions, we’ll have what we need, and in times like this, that ain’t such a bad thing.
Along with all of these various sustainable goals, I’ve been thinking a lot about sustainable happiness (I’m a philosopher, so that’s kind of my thing). I’ve been wondering what we would have to do, in times when happiness seems to be in such short supply, to make it doable and lasting, just like all those other things. How do we stretch our happiness out, conserve it, enjoy it in smaller pieces over longer periods of time, and find new and feasible ways to cultivate it?
Sustainable happiness isn’t really a new concept. Over 2300 years ago, Epicurus warned that getting too attached to things that might one day be taken away would result in great unhappiness in the long run. Buddha spoke at length about the perils of attachment to all that’s temporary (which includes an awful lot of things). Jeremy Bentham formulated “happiness calculus” in an attempt to quantify happiness and spread it around. John Stuart Mill advised us to aim higher than just being pigs satisfied, even if it means foregoing “the big happy”. All of these thinkers suggested that we choose small bites of higher quality happiness, that we be mindful and pace ourselves. They were all playing the long game with happiness.
I like to think that there are places in the world today, even in the midst of so much tumult and uncertainty, that are working to make happiness more sustainable. In “The Geography of Bliss”, Eric Weiner travels in search of cultures that may have figured it out to some degree, that seem to prioritize happiness in a way that others don’t. Bhutan, for example, has a Gross National Happiness index to go along with its other measures of growth and success. Other countries extol the virtues of art for art’s sake, being bored once in a while, and holding extra space for spirituality and mindfulness. No nation has it all figured out, and there are no foolproof systems of happiness, but you have to respect any collective or group that gives it an honest try.
As most philosophers will tell you, even in a more sustainable form, happiness is a moving target. We spend a lot of time trying to define it, while doggedly seeking it out. I’m not sure of the exact steps we take to get from here to a version that we can hang onto, but I have some rough ideas about what sustainable happiness might or might not look like.
I’m pretty sure happiness won’t be found in the same places it was before. We’ll have to ruefully admit that it wasn’t really there in the first place, that we just told ourselves it was and got stuck in that narrative. Sustainable happiness will probably hinge on experiences, on ideas, on connection, on moments of quiet. It won’t be in stuff (I love my stuff just as much as the next person, and I know this is a tough one).
Sustainable happiness won’t be easy, and it won’t just show up. It will be work. Maybe it’s hard to put happiness and work in the same sentence, but that’s just because we’re used to them being at odds with one another. We can workshop that problem.
Happiness won’t be a given and it won’t happen all the time, but we also won’t have to be in a constant state of bliss in order for us to be successful, and for us to live fulfilling, meaningful lives. This doesn’t mean we need to or even that we can live without happiness, but like many things, we don’t need it with the frequency we think we do. The mere idea of being happy all of the time is exhausting (not to mention impossible), and we very badly need to let ourselves off that hook. We don’t have to be happy when things are crappy (and man, are they crappy these days). At least we’ll know that when we are happy, it will be in spite of all the ugly truths out there, and not just a matter of slapping a gooey fake smile on our faces and playing pretend.
Sustainable happiness won’t happen just to us, all by ourselves. Maybe you’ve heard of the term “Ubuntu”, or the saying “A rising tide lifts all boats.” We’re getting a pretty substantial display of what happens when we encourage people to put themselves first. The uneven distribution of wealth is a nightmare, and so is hogging all the happiness. This one we learned in kindergarten. Seriously.
Perhaps “sustainable” isn’t the only word we should be applying to our future happiness. We could seek out “slow happiness”, “controlled happiness” or whatever other branding we’d care to slap on it. As long as we don’t cling, white knuckled to the “I want it all and I want it now.” version of happiness. This version is making us profoundly miserable. It’s costing us our health and safety, our connections to other human beings, and our planet itself. Sustainable happiness is different. It feels different, and it doesn’t work the same way. But at least there will be something left of us to feel it.