Declaration of Independence declares that all men have a right to “the pursuit of happiness.” 1926 The list of historians working on happiness is not long, but those who’ve tackled some aspect of the subject generally agree: At the level of rhetoric, at least, a significant shift occurred in Western culture around 250 years ago. Ordinary people began writing about their interest “in enjoying happiness and independence.” Disasters, such as the brutal yellow fever epidemic in Philadelphia in 1793, produced recommendations to the survivors to keep up their spirits and avoid excessive grief. On the other, not being happy, or at least not seeming to be, was a problem to be avoided. On the one hand, it was now perfectly legitimate to seek happiness.
Alexander Pope declaimed, “Oh happiness! our being’s end and aim!” while one John Byrom urged that “it was the best thing one could do to be always cheerful…and not suffer any sullenness.” The charge here was double-edged and has remained so. This changed dramatically with the 18th century and the values of the Enlightenment. Sinful humanity had best display a somewhat sorrowful humility. But there is no question that many people felt obliged to apologize for the moments of happiness they did encounter. As one dour Protestant put it, God would encourage a person who “allowed no joy or pleasure, but a kind of melancholic demeanor and austerity.” This does not mean people were actually unhappy-we simply cannot know that, because cultural standards and personal temperament interact in complicated ways. Until the 18th century, Western standards encouraged, if anything, a slightly saddened approach to life, with facial expressions to match. The fact is that the commitment to happiness in Western culture is relatively modern. Without historical perspective, American expectations seem so normal and so natural that they’re difficult to evaluate. Exploring the nature of such change not only illuminates our own context for happiness but also allows us to assess its advantages and downsides. Danes, the current polls suggest, are no longer so melancholy. Moreover, attitudes toward happiness don’t just vary they change. The point is that cultural variations on happiness are considerable, contributing to the findings of international happiness polls that dot the contemporary public opinion landscape. Some Latin American cultures tend in the other direction. Most East Asian cultures also have lower happiness expectations than Americans are accustomed to. The point here is not to disparage Russians. I’ve spent time since with Russian friends, discussing cultural rules on showing happiness, agreeing that differences remain. The Massacre at Chios, 2001, oil on canvas, 300 x 220 cmĪ modern Russian adage holds that “a person who smiles a lot is either a fool or an American.” It’s true that when McDonald’s arrived in Russia, in 1990, one of its first tasks was to train clerks to seem cheerful. That may lead to choices that aren’t for the best and, paradoxically, make a lot of people more miserable. Emotional states short of bliss become sources of anxiety and are even diagnosed as pathologies. When the goal becomes happiness, the idea arises that unhappiness is to be avoided in ourselves, our families, and our workplaces.
It’s also important to recognize that any societal choice has both good and bad consequences. Culture reflects choices, and new choices can change it. It’s important to trace this steady encroachment of the happiness imperative because it reminds us that today’s values are not givens in the human condition. Since then the pursuit of happiness has gained momentum and spread to every aspect of behavior, from religion and politics to work and parenting. It was only in the 18th century that the values of the Enlightenment ushered in the notion that happiness was the attainment of a worthy life. Today the Western world is caught up in a culture of happiness, but it wasn’t always so.