Happiness Machines

An article produced interesting numbers on how special we are today. In the 1950s 12% of the people felt they are somehow special compared to 2020s, where 80% felt special. Someone who is special sets different expectations for themselves. Something great is expected for they are among the“ brass men“ like Napoleon and Alexander Raskolnikov imagined in Crime and Punishment. They are allowed to cross borders and decide for themselves. Most importantly, they are guided by their individual judgment and they are free of the burden of any collective scrutiny of their behavior. This is how we understand our modern liberty. Nobody has the right to come and tell us how to live our lives. 

However, this comes with the cost of losing the social reinforcement on that behavior. Because I am also busy establishing my own game, I don’t have time to recognize yours. Without recognition, it is easy to fall into a trap of limitless pursuit of growth. Nobody will come to tell us that we already accomplished our part and we have enough. It is ready, no need to go further. In ancient days society often set limits for individual aspirations. You were born a blacksmith’s son, so in all likelihood, you would be dying as a blacksmith. But you reach your prime probably at the age of thirty. This leaves then more time for horizontal expansion among one’s community. Some suggest that there is something in that recognition from the community that could contribute to individual happiness. Instead of treating others as tools for greater aspirations, they assume that other people could act as ends. Aspirations should be directed toward the happiness of others. This would eventually make one’s self happier in the long run.

Arto A. Salonen acknowledges the naivety of such thoughts although I do not personally understand why. Is it really so hard to imagine happiness deriving from helping others? Is it because it is not measurable and cannot be ’excelized’ it has no tangible value. This sounds if not naive, then simply stupid. Rather, I think the reason is that we have become afraid of deciding the value ourselves. We need somebody else to tell us what is the price of friendship.

I am writing in Kutaisi, Georgia, where collectiveness has more value than in Scandinavia. My Georgian friend told me that during the COVID, Georgians were still having their shashlik barbeques despite the obvious risk of contracting an illness. People were dying but for a Georgian life was not worth living anyway without interaction with one’s community.

 

Community Beer Bar in Kutaisi

It is odd that in the land of plenty young people are struggling with mental issues due to the uncertainty of their individual futures. Scandinavia is considered a privileged region, where a good life is a birthright. We have it all but do not know what to do with it – at least nothing with value. Some privilege.

Benjamin Constant wrote about ancient and modern liberties. Modern liberties offer us a possibility for securing the right to our private pleasures. No one has the right to interfere with that enjoyment as long as you do not hurt others with them. This is easy enough since nobody really cares what you are doing anyway.

Ancient liberties, in their turn, offered the liberty to have an impact on public discussions through one’s community support, but interfered with the private sphere and told what the correct tools for happiness were. You should marry before twenty-five and raise the rugrats. If you comply you receive positive reinforcement from the community. Sounds terrible. And yet at the same time, it has a kind of romantic appeal to it. One has simply to look in the popular culture saturated with Avatars, Vikings, and other shows depicting a community to realize how much we adore that liberty, where everybody has a function in a community. A culture of brothers and sisters all contributing to the greater cause.

But we are told that we should decide individually what is good for us. The problem with this seems to be that an individual is weak alone. It is easier to give up. A community is strong together and can fight back against injustice. I am beginning to think about whose interest individuality serves.

I just spent three months in Kazakhstan where the land is plentiful. But still, the people are herded into skyscrapers, „Highvilles“ as they are called, to live in small quarters with a lot of strangers. A friend of mine produced an interesting view on this: when you do not know your neighbor you do not care what is going on in the building. According to some, an average person can have about 150 acquaintances. A highville is inhabited by several hundred families. One cannot assume to get to know each one of them, so why even start. What is done in that town district remains everyone’s individual concern. This is depressing and definitely creates a feeling of uncertainty. An individual has no tools to influence that decision-making.

I wonder if we should start imagining happiness differently? How many of us actually sat down and made that excel sheet on what is enough for me personally? I did it on the back of a cigarette pack and found out it is a lot less than I thought. However, I have noticed at some point I needed to change the way I imagine happiness. It is more often than I care to admit that I have to squat these days to buy wine. Top-shelf pleasures have become rare occasions that are (and should be) celebrated accordingly for the sake of good wine (and the people sharing it with me).

Activities that aim to consume and indulge for the sake of recognition (through social media?) have become few. Instead, worthy memories are a warm cup of tea and a sip of brandy after a collective street maintenance project we had to undergo in my building one morning when all the snow that the winter saw came down the previous night. Some of the old geezers thought their contribution to be in the supportive elements of that operation. They went down to the corner shop and bought two-star brandy and made tea for all. How do you take a picture of those feelings of belonging?

Community celebrations in Kyrgyzstan