Month: January 2008

James Pawelski

The Yielded Life

In Authentic Happiness (2002), Martin Seligman identifies three pathways to happiness: the Pleasant Life, the Engaged Life, and the Meaningful Life. While these are powerful pathways to consider in the quest for happiness, the question may arise whether there are any paths besides these three.

Seligman at times has talked about the Victorious Life (or the Life of Achievement) as a possible fourth pathway. I would like to suggest another candidate here. At first blush, it may seem like the pathway I propose is the antithesis of the Victorious Life, but I think more careful investigation will show that these two pathways are intertwined with each other—and to some degree, with each of the others, as well.

The pathway to happiness I would like to consider here is the Yielded Life, or the Life of Submission. This pathway to happiness involves giving ourselves up in some way, as well as acceptance and perhaps resignation. Persons walking this path can choose to yield their lives in a variety of ways, some no doubt much more healthy than others. Persons may choose to yield themselves to God, to some larger cause, to a political power, to fate, to another person, and so on.

The number of people who seek happiness in this way is very large. Indeed, a yielding of oneself to God and/or a renunciation of the world in some fundamental way seems to be a core component of most if not all religions. Many religions require a yielding of the self or ego, often in a way marked by a particular ritual.

Whether or not we are religious, living socially seems to require frequent yielding. We are required to submit to governmental authority. Marriage can be thought of as a social institution that requires two individuals to yield themselves to the other in a profound way as two become one. And just getting along with others in the world requires frequent accommodation to their needs and desires.

Even at a more basic, psychological level, yielding, submission, and acceptance are keys to happiness, and even health. Acceptance of the universe and our place in it, as well as of the setbacks and losses that inevitably come our way is something each of us must practice.

In his wonderful book The Conquest of Happiness (1930), Bertrand Russell includes a chapter on “Effort and Resignation.” He distinguishes between two different kinds of resignation. The first kind is rooted in despair. We can fall into this kind of resignation when we experience such a fundamental defeat in life that we don’t think we will ever be able to achieve any thing important again. If he were writing today, Russell might call this kind of resignation learned helplessness. This kind of resignation, of course, is not good, but he claims that the second kind of resignation is fundamental to happiness. This second kind of resignation is based on “unconquerable hope.” If our major purposes in life are thwarted, we can take comfort in our larger hopes for humanity—resigning ourselves to present losses, but consoling ourselves that future gains by others may yet achieve the intended results. If our secondary purposes in life are thwarted, we can resign ourselves to these defeats and still retain our happiness by focusing on those areas of our lives in which we have not been thwarted. To fixate on the defeat and thus allow it to destroy our happiness, Russell contends, is both unnecessary and unwise.

With the other pathways to happiness Seligman explores, it is possible to follow them well or poorly. Deeply savoring the joys of life can lead to happiness, while shortcuts to pleasure can lead to addiction; focusing on using one’s signature strengths more can lead to deep fulfillment, or it can divert one from acknowledging and repairing character flaws; using one’s signature strengths in the service of something larger than oneself can lead to deeply meaningful results, or (if the “something larger than oneself” is immoral), it can lead to the destruction of many. The case is similar with the Yielded Life. It is possible to yield oneself wisely and in that way to take steps toward happiness; or it is possible to yield oneself unwisely, to the wrong ideals, at the wrong time, for the wrong reasons—and in that way contribute to the destruction of oneself and others.

Typically, it is fairly easy to follow one of these paths poorly. But to follow it well requires knowledge and practice. Seligman’s claim is that research in positive psychology can contribute to the knowledge and practical expertise required to walk these paths successfully. I want to claim something similar for the Yielded Life. And I want to encourage positive psychologists to find ways of studying this life empirically to make this knowledge and practical expertise available to all.

Russell, B. (1930). The conquest of happiness. New York: Liveright.

Seligman, M. E. P. (2002). Authentic happiness. New York: Free Press.

James Pawelski

Does Positive Psychology Turn Aristotle on His Head?

If you took an introductory philosophy course in college, chances are at some point in the semester, your professor asked you and your classmates why you had come to class that day.

“Because I want to be ready for next week’s exam,” you might have responded.

“Why do you want to be ready for next week’s exam?” your professor may have prompted.

“Because I want to get a good grade in this class.”

“Why do you want to get a good grade in this class?”

“So I can graduate.”

“Why do you want to graduate?”

“So I can get a good job.”

“Why do you want to get a good job?”

At this point, you may have begun to feel a bit exasperated, but you were getting used to the fact that your philosophy professor liked to ask lots of questions. So after thinking for a bit, you said, “Because I want to earn a lot of money.”

You could have predicted your professor’s response. “Why do you want to earn a lot of money?”

“Because I want to be happy,” you responded.

“And why do you want to be happy?”

At this point, you just stared at your professor and mumbled, “Just because….I want to be happy.”

At this point, your professor stopped the questions and pointed out that you had just illustrated Aristotle’s claim in the Nicomachean Ethics, that happiness is “the end at which all actions aim.” Aristotle argues that everything we do, we do because we think it will make us happy. Consciously or not, we consider each of our actions to be a means for achieving happiness. Happiness, on the other hand, is something we want to achieve for its own sake, and not as a means to anything else.

Positive psychologists, it seems, disagree with Aristotle. Barbara Fredrickson, for example, argues that, while positive emotions are valuable in their own right, they are also valuable for what they bring. According to her broaden-and-build theory of human emotions, positive emotions are not simply markers of happiness; they are causes of other valuable things, as well. They broaden our attention and help us build our intellectual, psychological, and social resources. These expanded resources are likely to lead to a whole range of positive outcomes. So for Fredrickson, it seems that happiness can be a means to other valuable things.

Ed Diener argues that happiness is subjective well-being, which he defines in terms of high positive affect, low negative affect, and high life satisfaction. His empirical research indicates that subjective well-being leads to things like increased longevity, better health, and greater success in life. Like Fredrickson, it seems that Diener is arguing that happiness can be a means to other things.

For Mike Csikszentmihalyi, happiness is flow—a state in which our skills are matched with the challenges we face and our whole attention is completely absorbed by the task at hand. While Csikszentmihalyi sees flow as being valuable in its own right, he also sees it as an important tool for education. Children who are in flow at school are likely to learn more and more readily than those who are not.

So is positive psychology proving Aristotle wrong? Is it not the case, after all, that happiness is the end at which all actions aim? Is happiness itself a means to other valued outcomes?

Let’s go back to your college philosophy professor, to see what he or she would say. Your professor might point out that Aristotle’s notion of happiness encompasses more than positive affect, subjective well-being, and flow. It refers to a broader notion of human flourishing. Chances are, though, that your professor would probably respond…with a question. If it’s true that positive emotions, subjective well-being, and flow lead to increased intellectual, psychological, and social resources; to increased longevity, better health, and greater success in life; and to more effective education—your professor would ask, “Why do you want those things?” And eventually we would have to respond, “Because we think they will make us happy.”

So maybe positive psychologists are helping us to see that happiness tends to be self-perpetuating. Happiness leads to conditions that tend to bring more happiness. The more we flourish, the more we are likely to flourish. So maybe Aristotle is right, after all, that happiness is the end at which all actions aim. And if happiness is a means to something, it’s only to more happiness. So every time positive psychology turns Aristotle on his head, he manages to right himself again. Does this mean that cartwheels and somersaults are also a part of happiness?