Eddy Elmer
Simon Fraser University
http://www.eddyelmer.com/
How best to pursue "happiness"? As contemporary philosopher Mark
Kingwell aptly puts it in Better Living: In Pursuit of Happiness
from Plato to Prozac, "We all think that we know what happiness
is, or at least that we would like more of it. But the pursuit
of happiness may be at once the simplest and most vexing of human
endeavours."
Once the "magic code" for happiness has been cracked, how do
we help the process along? What is the counsellor's role in this,
especially when we consider that many people who come to counselling
complain of profound unhappiness and want to come out of it 'happier'
people. Perhaps a more important question: Is it even the counsellor's
business to meddle in an issue of such cosmic proportion? I will
draw on some of my own therapeutic experiences as a client to
illustrate how some counsellors have tried to help their clients
achieve happiness---and how I as a client responded to these very
different attempts.
Two very different views
Even though it is not explicitly acknowledged, different 'theories'
of happiness---or of what makes for 'the good life'---are firmly
rooted in decades-old philosophical assumptions. These assumptions
significantly colour how both counsellors and clients think about
happiness. Two quite different lines of philosophical thought
underlie many of the approaches that counsellors use to help their
clients along the journey of finding happiness. They seem to form,
in essence, two polar opposites on what it means to be 'happy'
and to 'live a happy life'.
The rational perspective
The first line of thought comes from the ancient Greek philosopher,
Plato, who espoused a very rationalistic view of happiness. He
felt that happiness means being a "just' person. Such a person
is one in whom the three parts of the psyche---reason, the will,
and the appetites---are in balance, such that each is able to
perform its duty fully and without interference from the other.
This is achieved when reason, in concert with will, controls the
appetites. When this balance occurs, the individual is able to
focus more readily on the intelligible world---wherein lies true
knowledge---as opposed to the experiential world---which comprises
mere representations of true reality. Plato called this true knowledge
the "Form of the Good". When one knows the Form of the Good, one
is guided by a morality based on the truest knowledge. This just
behaviour can be the only source of deep happiness (or at least
neutrality). Because they are governed by the appetites and an
empty, meaningless world of images, conjecture, and ignorance,
all other behaviours are unjust and the source of the deepest
unhappiness.
It should be noted, of course, that Plato felt this type of happiness
is achieved by only a select few people, namely the "philosopher
kings" of his time. Other people could come close to experiencing
something like happiness so long as they followed their station
in life and did what was expected of them in the social order.
For Plato, following one's duties in life creates a just society,
and only by living in a just society can non-philosophers hope
to attain what is the next best thing to true happiness.
One of my first forays into counselling brought me "head-on"
with a therapist who was a true rationalist. My depression, my
inability to complete schoolwork, and my vague sense of unhappiness
was interpreted as my difficulty in balancing my deepest desires
for personal connection with my rational faculties. A provocative
attempt was made to "awaken" more of the reason within me. I was
told to think more rationally and to consider that by staying
in school while depressed and not achieving optimally, I was robbing
another student of the opportunity to excel in my place. In essence,
because I was so involved with my emotions, I was unable to appreciate
different perspectives on my situation and, thus, behaved somewhat
"unjustly". Instead of focussing on my depression, I was told,
I should focus on ameliorating this "injustice".
While I know of several people who claim to have "found" happiness
in such a therapeutic context, I did not. In fact, I ended up
resenting my therapist and quitting therapy. Something felt profoundly
'unjust' about being 'told' that happiness consists of 'A, B,
and C' and that my "As, Bs, and Cs" were somehow out of synch.
Time, I thought, for another approach.
The introspective, humanistic/existential perspective
A second line of philosophical thought comes from the ancient
Roman statesman, Marcus Aurelius. For him, true happiness (or
at least some modicum of peace or neutrality) arises under three
major conditions: when we fully accept Nature, society, and ourselves;
when we engage in complete self-absorption; and when we exercise
our daily duty to others and to society. My own understanding
of Aurelius leads me to consider his a "happiness by default"---one
becomes happy when one is not subject to the pain that occurs
in the absence of these conditions. When, for example, we refuse
to accept nature and its events as they are, we needlessly expend
energy and become upset upon realising that we cannot predict
and control everything. When we focus our energies on the outside
as opposed to the inside world, we fall victim to the disappointments
inherent in empty, meaningless material goods, never-lasting corporeal
pleasures, and false opinions. When we refrain from accepting
the duties Nature demands of us, we interfere with its intended
plans and potentially create conditions of disappointment and
personal and social discord---potent sources of true unhappiness.
My second foray into psychotherapy brought me in contact with
a "die hard" Rogerian, person-centred therapist. This experience
showed me that much of modern therapy is everything I thought
it was not. Instead of getting clear-cut advice on how
to achieve the ubiquitous happiness, I was told repeatedly that
the answer lies only within myself---through deliberate solitude
and "contemplation". Therapy sessions consisted primarily of encouragement
and support in my journey inward. Although I never did "find"
anything specific, I did achieve a contented (albeit not giddy)
sense of what I term happiness in fully experiencing what I found
inside---a wondrous, if not mysterious, part of the Natural order.
Issues of acceptance and duty did not arise directly, but the
implication in therapy was that by looking more within myself,
I would attain a contentment that would make it easier to accept
life and people as they are---and to shed the defences which interfered
with my innate drive to be kind and dutiful to others.
Needless to say, the prediction was correct and this therapy
lasted longer than the first. With each additional session, I
felt that I was moving closer and closer to becoming a happier
person. For me, these philosophical assumptions really
hit home. It would appear that on the rationalism-humanism/existentialism
continuum, I am clearly on the humanistic/existentialist side,
and happiness is intrinsically tied with my position on this end
of the continuum. Should the need arise again, I would have no
compunction seeking client-centred counselling again.
But hundreds of other approaches to happiness abound in the psychotherapeutic
community, and I think they fall somewhere in between these two
polar extremes. With so many different perspectives, what is the
counsellor to do? Indeed, the question seems critical when we
consider that many people who come to counselling expect to leave
with some greater sense of happiness. They want to leave with
an "action plan" for happiness. Doubtless they don't get their
money's worth without it.
So which perspective is right?
So where does this leave us? From my experiences, it seems the
second "happiness philosophy" did me quite well. But is it the
best for everyone? Perhaps the question is completely moot when
we ask ourselves whether "happiness" even exists in the first
place. Both Plato and Marcus Aurelius---as well as Western society
in general---use the word "happiness", leading one to believe
that there is such a thing as happiness that can be understood
and apprehended. There is some universal feeling so common to
all of us that it deserves its own label. But what if this feeling
does not exist? What if we have created the word "happiness" to
describe a plethora of different feelings? Are any of us
talking about the same thing? Worse, are we trying to create
definitions that reify a purely linguistic term? If so, what are
our personal, cultural, and political motivations for doing so?
Any consideration of the "best" perspective on happiness must
include extensive---and intensive---reflection on these critical
questions
Personally, I think there is a universal feeling so real---so
common to all of us---that we can call it "happiness". However,
noting that the above questions remain debatable after centuries
of perpetual reflection, I do not think a counsellor does much
respect to his client by claiming to know what happiness is and
how to achieve it. What I think is more fruitful is helping the
client attain the confidence and support needed to evaluate the
nature of happiness by himself. If Marcus Aurelius is right, this
self-absorptive activity will by itself lead to some sense of
happiness. If he is wrong, then at least the psychologist has
given the client the power to find his own truth and his own happiness.
Mark Kingwell wrote that happiness means to feel that one is
living a life worth living. Many people find this definition profoundly
empty or anxiety-provoking because it doesn't give them anything
they can work with. In fact, some say that it makes them feel
even unhappier. But the alternative---prescribing happiness formulas---is
ultimately doomed to failure. The minute we try to dictate what
happiness is, or should be, we place individuals in a passive,
powerless position. We succeed in telling them that they do not
know enough about themselves or the world to apprehend and/or
appreciate the true meaning of happiness. If placed in such a
position, will not some individuals feel that they are actually
unworthy of happiness? If I thought myself too stupid to
apprehend happiness on my own, would I feel I deserved to be happy
in the first place?
As a former therapy client myself, I know where I stand. How
about you?