The periodic international happiness survey results (July 31) never seem to have brought much contentment to Maltese readers. When, a few years ago, we topped the polls, there was a general suspicion something was deeply wrong with a survey that could yield such a result. After all, we used to share the top places with Denmark – and that is a suicidal people, isn’t it?

Five years down the road, another survey, and Malta has tumbled down some 35 places. Relatively more unhappiness seems to have given some people a measure of satisfaction – although that satisfaction depends on accepting as truth the idea that we were at the top only a few years ago. Some people will never rest till the evidence shows that they lived happily ever before, not after.

Meanwhile, Denmark is still at the very top, threatening to spike the credibility of the poll.

As the three preceding paragraphs show, it is difficult to write about happiness surveys without one’s tongue gravitating naturally towards one’s cheek. It happened as well with the report on the happiness survey, which ended by advising readers not to be too depressed as that could adversely affect the results of the next survey.

The writing may be tongue-in-cheek but it is still revealing – in interesting ways. It suggests two things: happiness surveys are something to take lightly; happiness is something essentially subjective and psychological, dependent on individual attitude.

It could well be that the surveys themselves need to be taken with a pinch of salt. But what has become known as “happiness research” is today a subject discussed by neurologists, economists and social philosophers, who all say it has important implications for policy-makers.

And as that wide range of professions indicates, from this perspective happiness is not seen as a purely subjective, individual phenomenon. It is objective and tied up with our interdependence on others. While the research sometimes throws up surprising results.

First, the objectivity: neurological research has shown that happiness is tied up with certain patterns of brain activity. No, not just with clinically depressed people. With all of us. People who report themselves as happy will display special activity in the left lobe of the brain; unhappy people have special activity in the right lobe. “Left-siders” smile more. People who reported themselves (to researchers) as happy when in their 20s, tended to live longer than the unhappier people in their control group.

Such results go beyond interesting. They should spur policy-makers to review some of their priorities. Consistent sleep deprivation, for example, is considered by many doctors, friends and family of the sufferer as not very important and in any case treatable by homespun remedies (“drink less coffee”).

But in the US it affects 20 per cent of road accidents, while in Sweden a 20-year study showed that sleep-deprived workers had twice as many job-related injuries as others. And yes, someone did measure the relative happiness of good sleepers with disturbed sleepers... and the resulting difference in happiness was considerable, with the sleep factor having a far greater weighting than the effect of income, education or a good job.

Second, the interdependence on others: Here we enter an area where some of us may have intuited the results already. But it is nice to see one’s intuitions bolstered by systemic research based on international comparisons.

Essentially, beyond a certain threshold of welfare and well-being, happiness does not depend just on how well we are doing with respect to our past. It depends a lot on how the others around us are doing, too. Our place in the pecking order matters terribly.

Unhappiness with our lot lingers; our happiness with a new pay rise quickly subsides.

The results of such studies help explain one famous paradox. Despite the exponential growth in GDP of the richest countries over the last 50 years, the happiness index does not show people to be any happier.

Which is to say, the world’s happiest countries include those that are wealthiest; since there is a threshold that is related to income. Furthermore, people who are upwardly mobile within the richest countries do report greater happiness. But as a whole, the country does not score any higher; nor do people who have improved their quality of life but remained within their same status group.

Once again, there are policy implications. The LSE economist, Richard Layard, has argued, for example, that performance-related pay may actually be detrimental to job satisfaction. He has also argued that income tax may actually act as an incentive to preserve a work-leisure balance.

Other writers have argued that for that balance to be maintained, education needs to go beyond merely preparing people for the job market; it needs to impart the kind of broad interests that could make leisure time fruitful and pass on the self-knowledge and strength of character; knowledge about happiness, not just about its pursuit.

Some of this discussion, therefore, connects up modern science and economics with philosophies that are thousands of years old. It also shows that serious discussion about even “the pursuit” of happiness – sometimes portrayed as the most value-neutral and individualistic ethos – cannot avoid discussing collective priorities and goals.

And, just before anyone rushes to say that these conclusions vindicate religion, they also show how such public discussions can be value-laden but also secular.

ranierfsadni@europe.com