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Happiness

Criticizing Personal Autonomy

Self-realization comes not from control but from connection

Readers of this blog - and others like it - are interested in becoming better versions of themselves. So this writer presumes.

That quest for self-realization is a general theme of what is sometimes called positive psychology. Psychologists of that type emphasize that describing people’s thoughts, feelings, and behaviors – or even documenting the problems that result from these expressions – is not enough. Instead, students of human behavior and experience should help others create better ways of living. And they should practice what they preach.

Not a therapist myself, I acknowledge here such professionals for their efforts to help people feel better about ourselves and operate more surely in their life-settings. To be human is to know feelings of confusion, incapacity, and dread. Ill-considered behaviors, intentional or not, sometimes have profound consequences, not only for the people involved directly but also for those and who watch and know. Shame and guilt are residues of such acts. So are fear and anxiety. Most people struggle, at least from time to time, under such burdens. To release themselves from their own accusations, some create elaborate, often unwieldy systems of justification. Some fall spectacularly. Professional counselors help people up and return them to some semblance of “normal” functioning.

For those who find themselves cast out from ordinariness, this feeling of restoration – like being able to walk across a room unaided after a long hospital stay – is a wonderful thing. But for most of us, base-line functioning is not enough. We want something better or more, the sense that life is a movement upward to places we have not been.

That general understanding – that there are better and worse life-stations and individuals must take responsibility for their own positioning in these – is a prominent theme in contemporary societies. Societies of the “modern” type, or so the credo goes, grant to individuals a wide-ranging sphere of rights and responsibilities. Culturally chartered, we moderns are allowed to succeed – and fail. We are told to be the managers of our own destinies

That life-building strategy is exhibited clearly in our relationships with others. Sometimes this means repairing and enhancing what we already have. Often it entails processes of abandonment and replacement. Many of life’s historically most enduring commitments – placements of work, religion, residence, family, and friendship – must be seen in this way.

Some people are able to sustain satisfying work of forty years or more in a chosen field, or with a particular organization. But most of us are now reconciled to bouncing around, and being bounced around. Religious belief was once the anchor of personal and community experience. It was the unifying way in which people organized their life trajectory. Let readers decide if this is still the case.

That sense of stability and centrality – now more fleeting than before - is pertinent as well to residential living. A few may live forever in the neighborhoods of their birth. But those who desire cultural recognition are encouraged to move away and “make something” of themselves. This world does not value being stuck.

Changing neighborhoods, jobs, and churches inevitably means changing friends and “associates.” One can argue that old - and now distant - friends are golden, as the saying has it. But equally credible is the claim that old friends now live out their days largely as curios of social media. Real people are those we “do things with.” We find those flesh-and-blood versions when we join clubs and teams or go to gyms, spas, and bars. Many of us want someone to hang out with for an hour or so, after work or just for lunch. Expressing as they do our commitments-of-the-moment, these connections do not hold us firmly. No one expects us to stay there – or with them – beyond the terms of convenience.

Is family life that different? Modern societies, or at least the portions that prize upward mobility, encourage young people to move away. They should establish love relationships with people of their choosing. Committing themselves freely, they may start “their own” families. Aging parents should not be a burden; distant relatives have little standing. Wedding vows proclaim that the new couple is embarking on a life-time journey. Much is said about faithfulness and perseverance. But things change. And better partners – and perhaps better children – are found.

Changes of the above sort are publicly acknowledged markers of the restless, entrepreneurial self. Useful also are collections of possessions, attributes, accomplishments and other symbols of personal merit. Improved selves have fitter bodies, whiter teeth, fancier cars and homes, and an increasing number of friends and followers on media sites. They go interesting places for vacation; their children have achievements to be bragged about. Successful people are those who acquire money with ease and discernment and who dispense it in the same ways. They have “good” – i.e., publicly pleasing – personalities. In every case, they show themselves to be individuals who are setting their own course through the world.

In earlier times, qualities of the above sorts might be known only to intimates or be themes for deepest introspection. Now, they are the news releases of social media, self-published proclamations. Words and images – at first presented by ourselves and then by those who respond to our presentations – have as their goal the affirmation that we are doing well. Many of us live in a culture of “likes”; the more of these we receive the better. We may, like the new generation, have FOMO, the fear of missing out on events planned by others. But we also fear that our own postings will come to no regard.

Beyond these externalities, of course, lies a nagging, more important, question. Are the energetic managers of such lives “happy”? It is not the purpose of this writing to troll through the many conceptions of happiness that have been developed through the ages. Surely, some satisfactions last longer than others. Some are based on physical sensation; others center on symbolic realization. Happiness may not be a feeling at all but a condition of living. It may be the case, as Aristotle claimed, that happiness is less a pleasing sense of current involvement than a satisfied look backward at all we have ever been. Indeed, happiness may not admit of conscious identification and analysis. Perhaps happy people are those who have found a shelter that protects the best possibilities of being and keeps way the darkest dangers.

Setting aside such subtleties here, I would claim that modern people are allowed, even encouraged, to be psychologically preoccupied. They are routinely asked “how they feel.” They are challenged to feel good about what they are doing currently. And they are expected to take responsibility for their own emotional states.

Consistently with what has been said above, that means that they should monitor, and alter when necessary, their own patterns of psychological awareness and the behaviors that stem from these. Part of that process means finding time for serious reflection about current circumstances. Ideally, such ruminations are the basis of hopeful planning. There should be moments of “flow,” that is, deep engagement in the intricacies of the present. There should be occasions of risk-taking, at least of the sort that poses no clear dangers to the persons involved. Most importantly, autonomous individuals should have some sense that they are actively, even creatively involved in the manufacturing of their own existence. Self-direction of this sort is thought to be essential to fulfillment, actualization, or realization. It is the foundation of flourishing.

As a student of human play, I support most of what I’ve written above. And as a follower of positive psychology, I respect the view that people must not languish but move themselves forward with determination. Surely, victimhood is not to be swept away with a newly installed mental framework; but every person’s part of the human bargain is to be “resilient” in what ways they can. We must not allow ourselves to live in a hollow, alienated fashion. Authenticity is a legitimate life quest.

However, the other side of this issue must be given its due. That contrasting viewpoint is that subjectivity, however well considered and managed, is not an adequate support system for a life. We need otherness – and especially other people - to complete and guide us. Their demands on us may feel as chains or burdens, but those claims are also the very avenues of our own realization.

Presumably, few readers of blogs like this advocate the life-strategy of defensive individualism, the world of the barbed-wire compound, attack dog, and gun. Nor would many of us celebrate a life obsessed with status-striving, sniping, gossiping, and gamesmanship of every other sort. Who wishes to exist by keeping others at bay?

But the philosophy of creative individualism – so much more affirming and proactive - is dangerous in its own way. Many of us are raised to believe that we are the rising generation of leaders, the so-called creative class. Our specialness is to be acknowledged - by schools, jobs, and systems of social respect. We are to develop the plans by which other people live. We are to be the writers and talkers who articulate how we – and presumably, they – feel. Our advice is to be taken in the spirit in which it is given, as an attempt to help those with less exalted possibilities for living. As civilized persons, we are instructed to “listen,” but that listening is often just a prelude to our own formulations and to the advice that follows.

So conceived, this route to happiness is equated with notions of freedom and control. Well-developed people are those who not only administer their own lives but also extend those far-reaching judgments to others. The best life, or so it seems, is one where someone manages their own affairs on their own terms. Other people, when they enter the picture, should be managed as well, albeit in sensitive and judicious ways.

This vision of freedom – essentially as non-interference – is inadequate. Modern people, curiously, are pleased to be freed from constraints and commitments. Duties like taking the dog for a walk, picking up the kids at daycare, shoveling show, and paying taxes are thought to be impingements on other, more thoroughly self-chosen pathways of expression. By such logic, the freest people are those who can get others – perhaps by paying or bullying them – to perform these tasks. For the liberated, there is the prospect of playing racquetball or getting a tan at the local salon.

The other view of freedom is that it is not escape from restriction but an opportunity to accomplish something. Doubtless much of that achievement depends on personal gumption. But most of it also occurs because the circumstances of the world – and especially other people – support this activity. Playing racquetball requires a willing playmate; the tanning salon must be open and staffed. Our flying to Bermuda for vacation requires a vast number of workers who enable that possibility. When we arrive at school or work, our activity follows formats developed and supported by uncounted others. It is they who “credit” us for what we do and otherwise make our behavior meaningful.

To that extent, the free person is not the angry loner, willfully standing apart from those who would sap his energies. Nor is she the enthusiastic manager of others, who directs and controls their behaviors - and reaps the satisfactions of her manipulations. Free people are those who recognize the legitimacy of other people’s participation in their own lives. Self-esteem, like congratulating oneself in front of a mirror, has its place. But the better forms of recognition come from others. We need other persons to claim us and to ask us for our support. On those terms, one learns what it means to function effectively in the world. Healing, happiness, and love are not private inspirations. They are grounded in the responses of the world.

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