The
Objectivity of Happiness
St. Mary's
Although not often carefully distinguished, there are at least three
positions one may take on the relationship between happiness and satisfying
one's wants:
(a) Happiness is thinking
that you have what you want.
(b) Happiness is really
having what you want.
(c) Happiness is having what
you want for and only for a certain subset of wants, namely, those the
satisfaction of which contributes toward the fulfillment of your human telos.
That Aristotle's position is best captured by (c), see 1098a8-20.
Let me now try to defend Aristotle's position against (a) and against
(b). I can think of four reasons to prefer Aristotle's account. [note 1]
1. Against (a), let me
suggest that we don't think that the value of, say, being respected is that if
we are respected, then we usually will think that we are respected. Is
it really the case that the reason S ought to be honest is that S's
honesty will usually lead to S coming to believe that S is
honest, and that S will accordingly feel better about herself? [note 2] We think that
this misses what we take to be important, and justifiably so, let me wager,
about virtues such as being respected and being honest. What we take to be
important about being respected is just that others do respect us, not
that we will be more likely to believe that others respect us. Is the
value of me not lying to you that I can then come to believe that I did not lie
to you, or does the value reside simply in the objective fact that I did not
lie to you? [note 3]
An objection to my argument is that I have not yet tried to explain why
it is that I want the respect or honesty; what's in it for me, if not that I
will adopt certain positive beliefs about myself?
I cannot reply simply that the extra advantage to me of others' respect
for me being genuine (and not illusory) is that people's actions will reflect
this genuine (and not illusory) respect. That is, I cannot say that genuine
respect does, while faked respect does not, make others treat you better than
they otherwise would. I wish that I could say this and simply be done with it,
but I can't, for consider the following thought experiment.
Let’s say Barbara thinks that an essential component of her happiness is
having friends. And let’s say that she has whatever other components she thinks
are important to her happiness. So given this, if she has friends, she’s happy;
if she doesn’t, she’s not. Let’s further suppose that Barbara believes that she
has friends, many and deep, but that it turns out that she is thoroughly
mistaken. That is, Barbara's acquaintances are engaged in an elaborate and
coordinated plot to deceive her into thinking that she is respected. Of course
the group would then have to act as though they respect Barbara, and not
simply talk as if they did. Surely Barbara is perceptive enough that she would
become suspicious if the favorable talk was never expressed in favorable
action; she may be duped but not dumb. And since the acquaintances are, ex
hypothesi, effective deceivers, Barbara must get all the same benefits from
them that she would have gotten if they had been her true friends.
Nor can I say that the deception will last only a while, though perhaps a
long while, and so that the favorable actions will last only as long as the
deception does. I cannot say this because, although true, Barbara may do
something worthy of disrespect, yet the deception may be maintained; so
there are scenarios in which genuine respect could be more ephemeral than
illusory respect. An additional reason that this response is not open to me is
that, as Lady Philosophy always has it, the example can be cast so that Barbara
dies without ever having discovered the deception.
What I want to suggest is that far from valuing others' respect solely or
even primarily as a means to acquiring the belief that others are treating
us well (which is no doubt a satisfying belief to have), we value others'
respect solely or at least primarily as a means to acquiring the belief that
we are good people, and this matters to us because we want it to be true.
This proposal is significantly different from the alternative implied by (a),
for instead of the possession of a belief (namely, that I am respected)
being what matters (as [a] would have it), my proposal has the truth of
a belief (namely, that I am worthy of respect) as what matters. And I want that
belief to be true not because its being true increases the probability that I
will maintain that pleasant belief [note 4], but simply because I want
to be the sort of person who is worthy of others' respect, for this is evidence
(though not conclusive) that I am a good person. [note 5]
As a test for this, would you rather be respected by others and not
believe that you are, or be deceived into thinking that you are respected by
others? Maybe it's just me, but I would rather have the first than end up like Barbara.
The reality is primary and the belief secondary.
To see this perhaps more clearly, think of love. Wouldn't you be missing
something if your mate doesn't love you the way he or she says and acts? In
fact, upon discovering an unfaithful act, doesn't the fact that one had been
deceived add to the hurt? Surely you wouldn't think, "At least I
can be glad that I was able to go so long a time under the impression that Lee
was faithful to me!" Yet if what counted to you had been the mere belief
that you were loved, then the fact that you had had that false belief for so
long would mitigate, not exacerbate, your hurt.
2. As a second argument
against (a), note that when we raise children, we don't raise them to gullibly
believe that their wants are satisfied. But we would put a premium on
such easy belief formation if all we wanted for our children was for them to believe
that they are getting what they want. We try to raise them so that they learn
the importance, say, of having friends or of sharing, not of thinking
that they have friends or that they share.
3. Against (b), note
that if we accepted it, then in order to make our children have the best chance
of being happy, we should bring them up so that they want as few things as
possible, e.g., that they don't want friends, integrity, or initiative.
These are hard to get, so if our children don't want them in the first place,
then they won't be disappointed by not getting them.
Our response to this line of thinking would be that such an upbringing
would hinder our children, for things like friends, integrity, and
initiative are some of the important things in life. And they are objectively
important, whether or not I believe that they are important, for they are some
of the conditions required for a full flourishing of our human nature.
4. Another problem with
(b), and with (a), is that they fuse (and confuse) being happy with feeling
happy (that is, with feeling as if I am happy). I can feel happy without
being happy, just as I can feel healthy without being healthy.
Whatever else happiness is, it is something important. It is the word we
use, after all, for what guides our choices, whether our own happiness, Lee's
happiness, or the greatest happiness for the greatest number. Given that it is
so very important, why think it synonymous for elation? Elation is a good word
for that phenomenon which consists of grins, giggling, and a skip in one's
step. My point here is only that there is some deeper, subtler, more profound
state of a person, and name it whatever you want (I have chosen
"happiness," but other good candidates would be well-being, flourishing,
or even eudaimonia), it cannot be reduced to whistling merry tunes or
acquiring merry beliefs.
Endnotes
Send me mail at mstaber at smcm dot edu
Go to Michael Taber's home page.
Go to the SMCM home page.
revised 1/99