All of us have certain innate needs-to feel connected, to feel valued, to feel secure, to feel we make a difference in the world, to have autonomy, to feel we’re good at something. Materialistic people, [American psychologist Tim Kasser] believes, are less happy-because they are chasing a way of life that does a bad job of meeting these needs.
I’ve thought a lot and written a lot on the topic of happiness here on the blog. Or joy or contentment or whatever other name you want to assign to this rose. On some level, it feels fairly universal that all of us want to be happy. It’s just that many of us have no real idea about how to get there. And it’s not like Johann Hari is completely breaking new ground in Lost Connections, but he does illuminate some areas that we may have forgotten. Or overlooked. Or never took the time to think about.
As you might suspect, Lost Connections talks a lot about the connections we have lost with one another as human beings. The cruel irony is that while we are the most connected generation in the history of humanity, through the power of technology, we are perhaps also the least connected. And the most lonely. Lonely together. Especially in the past 18 or so months, we’ve felt so much more isolated from one another. Tamara from Discovering Parenthood certainly feels it.
This is where it’s worthwhile to point out that “being alone” and “feeling lonely” aren’t the same thing. You can be surrounded by people and still feel lonely. And isolated, because you might not feel connected or valued or secure. Or you might not feel like you have the level of autonomy that you desire.
Curiously, you’ll find that Lost Connections by Johann Hari has two different subtitles. In some markets, you’ll see “Uncovering the Real Causes of Depression and the Unexpected Solutions.” In other markets, the cover will read “Why You’re Depressed and How to Find Hope.” The first is perhaps a bit less personal and more analytical, looking at the phenomenon of depression as an outside observer. The second speaks directly to the reader. Why?
Social scientists have known for a long time that-to put it crudely there is a significant difference between how we think of ourselves in Western societies and how people in most of Asia conceive of themselves. There are lots of little experiments you can carry out to see this. For example-take a group of Western friends, and show them a picture of a man addressing a crowd. Ask them to describe what they see. Then approach the next group of Chinese tourists you see, show them the same picture, and ask them to describe it. The Westerners will almost always describe the individual at the front of the crowd first, in a lot of detail then they describe the crowd. For Asians, it’s the other way around: they’ll usually describe the crowd, and then, afterward, almost as an afterthought, they’ll describe the guy at the front.
The perhaps not-so-subtle irony is that the more we focus on ourselves and our own happiness, the less likely we will be happy. As we progress through our lives, our priorities may change. I know this is certainly the case for many parents in particular, as we start to focus so much more on our children. We want them to be better than off than we were.
In other words: in the West, we mostly have an individualistic way of looking at life. In Asia, they mostly have a collective way of looking at life.
The Dalai Lama and Archbishop Desmond Tutu echo a similar sentiment in The Book of Joy. When we have a sense of connection to something bigger than ourselves, we can experience a greater sense of joy. People have said that money can’t buy happiness, except that’s not exactly true. If you spend the money on yourself, the happiness is fleeting at best. When you spend the money on others, joy multiplies upon itself. Spreading joy brings us joy. Perhaps, as Johann Hari might posit, this is because we regain a greater connection to those around us. We find meaning once again.
Materialism is problematic, because it is insatiable and never-ending. The same is true when you put happiness out there somewhere, because it means you’re constantly chasing it. If you get stuck reaching for the dangling carrot, you’ll never get it. Or you’ll grab it for a moment, only to have it slip from your grasp. Rather, happiness (or joy) is more about a state of being, connected to others, to nature, to a greater purpose. And focusing far less on ourselves.
In an age of social media in particular, this can prove especially challenging. Rachel Shubert is a friend of Johann Hari from their NYU days. In Lost Connections, she says:
“It’s like we’ve learned so well from the advertisers over the years, we’re marketing experts ourselves, and now we just know how to curate and market our own lives, without any conscious process. We just culturally learn it.” So you display your life on Instagram and in conversations as if you are the Chief Marketing Officer of Me, “not trying to get other people to buy anything other than the idea that we’re awesome and worthy of envy ourselves. You know?”
It’s certainly easier said than done to let go of this. I know I struggle with it all the time, with this blog, with Instagram, with life in general. Validate me. Acknowledge me. Me, me, me. But, if we truly want to be happy, we have to stop chasing happiness and start seeking better connections.
Disclosure: As an Amazon associate, I earn from qualifying purchases.
Recent Comments