Right now, reading these words at the kitchen table, or on the sofa, with your fingers curled around the edges of this newspaper, are you happy? Really and truly happy?

You’re not alone if you say, “No!” It turns out there’s solid research to back up our nagging sense that these are not particularly happy times in America. Despite the fact that we’ve grown far wealthier, as a nation, in the past fifty years, Americans, on the whole, are no happier than we were fifty years ago.

This is a strange finding, and somewhat counterintuitive. Un-American, even. It seems to argue against the “American Dream” itself, which is to offer your children a better life than your own.

But what, exactly, constitutes a “better life?”

For generations, Americans have answered that question in material terms: a bigger house, more cars, computers, appliances. The bursting of the recent economic bubble has left the country in a kind of hangover. It’s fashionable these days to focus on Wall Street’s criminal excesses, but let’s be honest. There wouldn’t have been a sub-prime mortgage crisis without legions of Americans pushing to own what they couldn’t really afford. The banks were more than happy to enable this stampede; they stood to gain mightily by slicing and dicing those bad loans into extremely creative — and insanely risky — financial instruments.

But why the stampede in the first place? Did people really think that a McMansion, complete with granite countertops and HD TVs, was going to make them happy?

Of course they did. American popular culture, beamed at us tirelessly from every angle, and bankrolled by commercial interests that live or die by domestic consumption, tells us exactly that, all the time. Unfortunately for us, but happily for the voracious American economy, people tend to adapt themselves fairly quickly to improving circumstances. The new car or raise we were so excited about just last month has a way of stealthily becoming a new, not-so-hot baseline. We’ve always got an eye on the Joneses.

America has been selling itself big dreams since the founding fathers penned the phrase, “life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.” But how did the “pursuit of happiness” turn exclusively into the “pursuit of wealth?” Wealth doesn’t equal happiness. Or does it?

It’s true, according to the findings of happiness researchers, that rich Americans tend to be happier and healthier than poor Americans. But if one takes the country as a whole, and asks, “Are richer countries happier than poorer ones?” the answer is, surprisingly, no. Nigerians, for instance, consider themselves just as happy as the Japanese, despite the gaping disparity of wealth between the two countries.

There are obviously cultural reasons for this, but it’s interesting to note that extremely poor people often consider themselves extremely happy. Again, this is counterintuitive, something we don’t want to believe, the kind of thing a rich nation might tell itself to avoid helping a poorer one. Why should we interfere in sub-Saharan Africa, the rich nation asks, can’t you see how happy they are?

There’s no romance in high infant mortality, lack of access to education, or the prospect of a lifetime of unemployment. Just ask the underclasses in the Muslim world, who are being radicalized with promises of a better life beyond this one.

For that matter, look no further than America’s own backyard, where masses of fearful, chronically unemployed citizens are boiling with rage at what they perceive to be a broken and predatory government.

And yet.

We’ve all seen it. Happiness among those with very little; unhappiness among those with a lot.

It isn’t easy to set aside the things society tells us ought to make us happy in favor of what truly does. But it’s part of our work in this world.

What would the country look like, I wonder, if we reckoned success not by the size of our gross national product, but by a new number, the GNH, “gross national happiness?”

I, for one, have found plenty of happiness on St. Peters Church Road, often linked to working with my hands, whether it be building a floating dock or fixing something that was headed for the landfill. Finishing a piece of writing is where the real celebration is, not depositing the check. Cooking a special meal for my family is a lot more satisfying than being served one. Looking out over Blue Mountain of an evening beats just about anything I could watch on TV.

But that’s just me.

So tell me. What does happiness look like for you?

This column was published in the Perry Co Times on 25 March 2010

For more information, please contact Mr. Olshan at writing@matthewolshan.com