Keywords

Before discussing an alternative approach, we first clarify dominant understandings of happiness and well-being. How is happiness currently being imagined? How does this view of happiness shape views of our own society and the wider world? Why has such a view evolved and become dominant? As discussed in the previous chapter, the past decade has witnessed a remarkable shift away from GDP as proxy for happiness and well-being. Existing assumptions are being critically examined, and new conceptualizations put forth. In this chapter, we aim to sketch the broader historical and intellectual contexts leading up to the current surge in interest around these themes. This discussion sets the stage for the next chapter, wherein we look more deeply at key definitions, new forms of measurement, and—most importantly—inherent limitations therein.

Are Rich Countries Happier?

The idea that money—material wealth—brings happiness came to dominate our imagination in the twentieth century. Who doesn’t want to be rich? Who in wealthy countries hasn’t considered themselves lucky to have been born in a ‘rich’ country? Who would doubt that money gives us the ability to pursue all the things that apparently make us happy: better food, a nicer home, a more beautiful partner, a life of ease? The connection between wealth and happiness obviously did not begin in the twentieth century, but the notion that national income could ‘index’ levels of happiness did. The notion that money equated to happiness, gave rise—when considered in macro terms—to the conceptual formulation that a ‘rich country = a happy country’. From this formation was borne the hypothesis that Gross Domestic Product (GDP) could be an index of happiness, a formulation we render shorthand as ‘GDP=Happiness’.

While the twentieth century is largely a story of unprecedented economic and material growth, there were wide fluctuations in economic fortunes. These range from the depths of the Great Depression and destruction of the Second World War, to the prosperity of the postwar period. Amid these fluctuations, in 1943 an American psychologist named Abraham Maslow put forth a theory that would come to define mainstream discussions for decades. Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs suggested that people, having once satisfied basic needs (physiological and safety) would gradually turn to seek fulfillment in higher needs (belonging and esteem), as shown in Fig. 2.1. Once the lower needs were met, an individual would then seek for ‘self-actualization’ at the higher levels. From basic material needs to loftier realms of self-fulfillment. In this way, the material wealth of a society came to be seen as the base upon which all higher needs were built. Material wealth was, in effect, viewed as prerequisite for ‘mental wealth’.

Fig. 2.1
A pyramid model presents Maslow’s hierarchy of needs. It has the following 5 needs in the bottom-up order. Physiological needs. Safety needs. Love and belonging. Esteem. Self-actualization. The physiological and safety needs are labeled together as basic needs.

Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs

Examining historically what occurred in the twentieth century, this formulation makes much sense. In various countries, economic expansion led to a more convenient life. Japan’s experience, for example, mirrored that of many countries around the world. After basic needs were met in Japan by the mid-1950s following the devastation of the Second World War, the push was for the so-called ‘Three Sacred Treasures’ emerged in the late 1950s. Initially, these three treasures were a refrigerator, a washing machine, and a black-and-white television. As the term suggests, affluence brought a sense of happiness. Yet, as the Japanese economy grew further and basic needs were satisfied, more complex needs arose, just as Maslow had predicted. The Three Sacred Treasures were redefined in the 1970s to become an air-conditioner, a color television, and a car, and then redefined again in the 1990s to be a color camera, a DVD player, and a plasma television. From basic safety needs to aesthetic pursuits; from whole family appliances to individual use goods. Indeed, without a basic infrastructure and level of safety guaranteed from the outset, it is difficult for any society to enjoy the ‘mental wealth’ of happiness. In this sense, it is clear that a certain level of economic wealth—a minimum necessary economic baseline—is important. We would not want to deny this. And, indeed, policymakers thought the same, leading them to pursue this approach via the crude measurement of GDP throughout much of the twentieth century.

Nonetheless, Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs has various problems. These are clear even to non-specialists. Is self-actualization only found among those living in economic affluence? In light of millennia of human beings living together across highly varied economic conditions, is it really accurate to say that the desire to be recognized, respected, and belong arises only in high-income contexts? Aren’t these drives/needs at play even in difficult economic circumstances? Moreover, is it always that more affluence brings the desire to self-actualize, in the sense of pursuing one’s individual potential? Isn’t it possible that the higher orders lead to further drive for community bonding and belongingness, as in, for example, becoming an integral part of a community? Maslow was American, and it is frequently pointed out that his early formulations of the Hierarchy of Needs tended to privilege the individualism that dominates the North American cultural world (Monnot & Beehr, 2022).

Doubts have also been raised in relation to the extent to which the Maslow model holds. That is, does unlimited economic growth always lead to higher levels of actualization? Is there not some point where economic growth starts to work against happiness? For example, if large numbers of people migrate to urban areas where the infrastructures of convenience allow them to obtain health care and higher paying jobs, but this simultaneously results in higher population densities, cramped living quarters, poor sanitation, air quality, and noise pollution, can we say that their lives are wholly better? Is it the case that disconnection from nature, mental stress, and long commute times, resulting in only finding a few hours each week to relax is outweighed by a higher balance in one’s bank account? On a more macro, long-term scale, has the rapid expansion of cities and mass consumption, with its tremendous draws on fuel and resources, pushed sustainability out of reach? Even if we ourselves do not pay the price in our lifetimes, the negative effects will be felt by future generations. Maslow did not discuss these sorts of issues. Yet even such casual observations call into doubt his simple formation that material wealth = mental wealth. Even if there was once some element of truth in it, the question moving forward is—as pointed out in the previous chapter—whether that formulation can be sustained in our contemporary world.

These sorts of doubts have come to challenge the twentieth-century World Map of Happiness: the richer the country, the happier we would expect it to be. Slowly but surely, this simple formulation has been discarded. In 1990 the United Nations Development Programme (UNDP) put forth the Human Development Index (HDI). The HDI added additional indicators to GDP (GNI): long and healthy life (measured by life expectancy at birth) and knowledge (mean years of schooling). Moreover, the HDI calculated values and ranked countries around the world, not simply ‘developing countries’ that was the original remit of the UNDP work. Although ‘rich’ countries still largely dominated the HDI rankings based on GDP, there was some diversification, as countries with strong health systems and educational attainment moved above countries with higher wealth (e.g., Cuba, as compared with most of Latin America).

Fast forward to today, and we find the OECD Better Life Index (BLI). Launched in 2011, it aims to measure happiness and well-being between countries on 11 indices: housing, income, jobs, community, education, environment, governance, health, life satisfaction, safety, and work-life balance. The OECD introduces the BLI on its website and promotional materials as follows:

There is more to life than the cold numbers of GDP and economic statistics. This Index allows you to compare well-being across countries based on 11 topics the OECD has identified as essential, in the areas of material living conditions and quality of life. …

…Looking forward, there is no room for complacency. As storm clouds gather on the horizon, mainly from environmental and social challenges, all OECD countries need to take action if they are to maintain today’s well-being for future generations. (OECD, 2020, p. 17)

In BLI related materials, the OECD states that there is no country with strengths in all domains. It highlights how countries with high GDP still grapple with problems such as poor work-life balance and depression, for example. What is fascinating here is that the OECD is an organization explicitly formed to advance capitalist development in Europe in the context of the aftermath of the Second World War. It is an institution, born of the geo-political struggles of the twentieth century, dedicated to endless economic growth and unbridled development, in particular economic liberalism. Indeed, these very terms remain enshrined in the very name of the organization. Yet, the OECD itself now realizes that GDP alone cannot index happiness, as evidenced in the creation of the BLI. Moreover, the OECD is aware that growth can be accompanied by a dark side, for example, poor work-life balance and environment degradation. The OECD is thus in the midst of trying to redefine itself as a promoter of a more diversified, less unidimensional approach.

As further indication of the growing doubts around GDP, we may also point to the resounding global success of Bhutan’s Gross National Happiness (GNH) initiative. Bhutan is one of the poorest countries in the world. The people of Bhutan are not satisfied with situation and are striving for economic growth. We must be careful not to romanticize the situation there. Nonetheless, there is deeper recognition there that economic wealth does not correspond directly to ‘mental’ or spiritual wealth. GNH has thus been offered in direct challenge to GDP. Policy decisions are made from a wider perspective, with non-economic conditions accounted for, rather than simply ignored, amid the economic development of the country. There is, to some extent, a recognition that some of what is being lost in economic development are sources of happiness (forests, clean environment, religion, connection). Launched in 2008, Bhutan’s GNH policy placed before the world the difference between income and happiness. In fact, the UN’s High Level Meeting entitled Wellbeing and Happiness: Defining a New Economic Paradigm in 2012, which led to the annual World Happiness Report, was co-chaired by UN Secretary General Ban Ki Moon and Bhutan’s then Prime Minister Jigmy Thinley. That such a ‘poor’ country could be leading a new global discourse underscores just how much a new cartography of global happiness has been taking shape at the outset of the twenty-first century.

Going Deeper: The Easterlin Paradox

Let us take a deeper look at this. To do so, we turn to research findings that offer greater clarity on happiness worldwide. When we examine the relationship between GDP and country-level subjective happiness indicators, we find that, in fact, higher income countries are more likely to report higher levels of happiness. Figure 2.2 suggests that GDP affects the average level of happiness of a given country, at least to some extent. In the next chapter we will clarify what we mean by ‘subjective’ indicators and explore different approaches to measurement. For now, our interest remains on the big picture of global happiness and well-being. Similar positive effects between GDP and subjective happiness can be detected at a regional level (Florida et al., 2013; Lawless & Lucas, 2011; Rentfrow et al., 2009). Here then we can confirm that, at least to some extent, economic wealth is important. Note that the data here is from 2008 but the general pattern holds for data from other years as well.

Fig. 2.2
A scatterplot of the S W B index versus G D P for several countries. The trend curve rises from (0, negative 0.80) and ends at (30, 3), approximately. Denmark, Iceland, and Switzerland have a high S V B index and G D P. Zimbabwe, Iraq, and Armenia have low S V B index and G D P.

GDP and subjective well-being (SWB). (Adapted from Inglehart et al., 2008), X-axis is GDP per capita (in $1000 increments)

Interestingly, however, the same relationship does not necessarily hold within a given country. Here then is a paradox, one confirmed through subsequent research studies. In the case of low-income countries, economic indicators and subjective well-being are positively correlated, but when the economy reaches a certain point, the relationship with subjective well-being is no longer linear (Inglehart et al., 2008; Veenhoven, 1999). As stated above, economic indicators and subjective well-being are statistically related to some extent in a country-by-country analysis (i.e., whether the subjective well-being of one country as a whole is higher than that of another country as a whole), but no meaningful relationship may be found in individual differences within a country. This has led some researchers to suggest that the effect of economic status on well-being is likely to be due to the “guarantee of individual freedom” that often arises in tandem with greater economic development, and, indeed, when statistical controls are put in place to account for this, the effect of economic status disappears (Fisher & Boer, 2011).

Much of this contemporary research traces its origins back to the initial questions raised within a famous discussion about wealth and well-being unfolding around the 1970s, one that ultimately led to what we now call The Easterlin Paradox. Easterlin, a professor of economics, found that after a certain economic threshold is reached, GDP and subjective happiness no longer correlate. In simple terms: after a certain point, more money does not equate to more happiness. Figure 2.3 shows findings from Japan that support the Easterlin Paradox: from roughly the mid-1970s, levels of happiness have remained constant, despite three decades of economic growth (Cabinet Office, Government of Japan, 2011). Here we see the complexity of simply assuming macro-level indicators (country-level data, i.e., GDP) correlate with micro-level states of mind (individual level data, i.e., subjective well-being). This is a key issue we unpack in the next chapter, when we discuss the methodological challenges of measurement.

Fig. 2.3
A line graph of the happiness paradox versus years. The real per capita G D P plots an increasing curve from (1978, 60) to (2011, 110). Values are estimated. The lines of happiness and life satisfaction plot fluctuating downward curves.

The Happiness Paradox in Japan (Easterlin, 1974, data adapted from Cabinet Office, Government of Japan, 2011)

How are we to understand this Paradox? Several suggestions have been put forth. First, one explanation underscores that the human mind tends to grow accustomed to its physical and social environment after its ‘newness’ has worn-off. Our sense of happiness is elastic. Viewed negatively, we tend to lose awareness, gratitude, and happiness for novelty after some time. Or, to put it in the language of Maslow outlined above, once our basic needs are met, new desires arise, and the question for belonging, recognition, and self-actualization become the new benchmark for happiness. Viewed in a more positive sense, the human mind adjusts to its surroundings, an insight which may provide important clues for twenty-first-century happiness, as we discuss in Chap. 6.

A second explanation for the paradox is that a rise in GDP tends to create disparities between the so-called winners and losers within a given society. This can lead to a lower sense of trust and fairness among the low-income group(s) and their declining evaluation of their position lowers the sense of well-being as a whole (Oishi et al., 2011). In fact, the growth of GDP in the United States in recent decades is one illustration of this: while GDP figures have increased, only a small number of Americans have shared in that new wealth, and rising inequality has led to a growing sense of dissatisfaction. Similarly, countries such as Argentina and Portugal that have seen growing economic inequality confirm the Easterlin Paradox, whereas in France and Italy which have not experienced similar rises in inequality, evidence for the Paradox is less clear (Oishi & Kesebir, 2015).

A third possibility is that rising GDP is accompanied by negative effects, leading—at some point—to the end of steadily rising happiness. As discussed, the loss of environmental resources comes to mind here. If GDP gains are off-set by pollution, the stresses of urbanization, disconnection (loneliness), and poor work-life balance, then we would expect to find happiness levels ‘flatline’ at some point, despite further economic growth. Researchers across a range of fields are becoming increasingly aware of this wider context of GDP growth, attempting to understand these connections, and contemplate how to achieve an optimal state of well-being by balancing various factors such as economic conditions, working environment, family environment, and natural environment. The Easterlin Paradox set academic research on a path, one still being unfolded today, of thinking about economic growth as merely one—but not the only one—factor influencing relative levels of happiness worldwide.

Missing Pieces: What Lies Beyond the Subjective?

Scrutinizing Fig. 2.2 a bit more closely, alternative patterns also become evident. While happiness and GDP are positively correlated up to a certain point, there is a relatively narrow dispersion among high-income countries but a high dispersion among low and middle-income countries. Many of the countries whose levels of happiness that exceed what one would normally predict based on GDP figures are located in Latin America. Meanwhile, the countries of Eastern Europe (most former Soviet states) score lower than what one would predict. Among high-income countries, East Asian countries such as Japan score below the average of most of their Western counterparts. Meanwhile, high-income countries in northern Europe such as Denmark score well above average. Indeed, when economic factors are controlled for, happiness is high in countries such as Brazil, Chile, and Argentina, followed by Western countries, and relatively low across East Asian countries such as Japan and South Korea (Diener & Suh, 2000; see also Oishi, 2009). As Inglehart (2008), a prominent happiness researcher who first created Fig. 2.2, points out, these groupings seem to fall along cultural lines, suggesting differences in underlying cultural dispositions.

The Northern European countries have attracted the lion’s share of global attention for their high-levels of happiness and well-being. Nordic countries such as Denmark, Iceland, and Sweden consistently top charts like these. The top seven spots in the 2022 World Happiness Report were all taken by Nordic and/or Northern European countries: Finland, Denmark, Switzerland, Iceland, Netherlands, Norway, and Sweden. Finland has topped the WHR for five consecutive years, as touched upon in the headlines we reviewed in the last chapter. In contrast, the low rankings of East Asian countries are equally consistent, with Japan and South Korea scoring among the lowest of countries in the high-income bracket. In light of these rankings, analyses of Nordic countries are abundant, and usually praise is given to the generous social security and welfare provisions (afforded by high taxes), and excellent medical and educational systems. Applying the same analyses in reverse, analyses of Japan and other East Asia societies come to conclude that the low levels of happiness result from a lack of social security, the weakening of family and community relations, and poor urban planning (high population densities, leading to packed commutes and overcrowded facilities). Levels of happiness in North America—the United States and Canada—are also high, and better than expected based on GDP alone. This general observation has led to, for example, times series analyses, that show that social change (e.g., increased free of choice) is associated with happiness in North America (Inglehart et al., 2008). Building on this, scholars have suggested that countries—not only in North American but everywhere—likely become happier to the extent that they guarantee individual rights and freedoms. The obvious conclusion, albeit often implicit, becomes that countries, such as Japan, do not do well in protecting individuals’ rights or extending freedom.

Indeed, research on happiness is an area that lends itself easily to ‘comparisons’. Instead of pursuing clear definitions of what happiness and well-being might mean—the contextually based ‘contents’ of happiness—it is more common to focus on relative comparison, across countries, sub-national units (states, prefectures, cities), occupations, and so on. These are frequent, both in research circles and in media coverage, and tend to produce a policymaking environment that is similarly simplistic in its comparisons. The OECD rankings and the WHR reports are leading examples. These discussions nearly always involve over-simplification of key variables, dubious correlations, and conclusions drawn from comparisons of aggregate values. To be fair, such comparisons may have value in some limited settings and discussions. But more often than not, happiness rankings simplify what is, in essence, a very complex discussion. In the next chapter we turn to critically assess these rankings in detail.

As preview, we may here underscore a few key points. First, virtually all of the measurements that came after GDP have focused on subjective happiness. In other words, measures shifted to asking individuals if they feel they are happy. This is true for both Fig. 2.2 and the OECD Happiness Rankings as shown in Fig. 2.4. This move to subjective happiness scales also includes more sophisticated, scholarly attempts, such as the Satisfaction with Life Scale (SWLS) (Diener et al., 1985), which we examine more closely in the next chapter. For now, the questions that comprise the SWLS are shown in Fig. 2.5. While initially nothing may appear problematic, there is a clear assumption of a particular ‘subject’ (individual, ‘I’) these subjective scales attempt to assess. Indeed, all of the scales that are used today were developed in North America, focus on this individual subjective dimension, and produce rankings that find East Asian countries, including Japan, scoring among the lowest. But we must ask—and will, in the pages ahead—can we really just translate measures developed in one culture and use them to access all cultures worldwide?

Fig. 2.4
A text box includes a list of 40 countries according to the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development happiness scale ranking. The top 10 are as follows. Finland, Norway, Denmark, Switzerland, Iceland, Netherlands, Canada, New Zealand, Sweden, and Australia.

OECD happiness scale ranking. (Adapted from OECD, 2017)

Fig. 2.5
A text box lists 5 Satisfaction with Life Scale statements. 1. In most ways my life is close to my ideal. 2. The conditions of my life are excellent. 3. I am satisfied with my life. 4. If I could live my life over, I would change almost nothing. 5. So far, I have gotten the important things I want in life.

Satisfaction with Life Scale (SWLS) questions. (Adapted from Diener et al., 1985)

Implicit in these new happiness scales is also the notion that happiness can be captured in a one-dimensional fashion: that all the world’s people respond to a given question in similar ways. It is a well-known phenomenon that in Japan, and other parts of East Asia, there is a cultural response bias to scales like these. Japanese respondents tend to avoid extreme answers at the high and low ends of a scale (‘very much’ or ‘not at all’), in favor of moderate responses (‘neither’ or ‘somewhat’). Meanwhile, differences in reference group also affect responses. For example, when Japanese people access their levels of happiness, they are not imaging comparisons with Americans half a world away, but with other Japanese around them (Heine et al., 2002). This, of course, happens everywhere, not simply in Japan. Subjective valuation requires reference, but these references are not asked about and cannot be held constant. A third problem is that the optimal level of happiness one seeks may differ from country to country. As we shall see in later chapters, the idea that a moderate level of happiness is ideal is dominant in some places of the world, a phenomenon virtually unfathomable for those, like North Americans, that tend to hold the view that the more happiness, the better.

In this chapter, we have attempted to point out that, despite the welcome shift away from GDP toward more nuanced and meaningful indicators over the past several decades, much is still missing. The biggest missing piece in our current attempts at cartographies of happiness and well-being is culture. The general relationship between GDP and happiness appears to be mediated by cultural groupings, response styles affected by culture, and—at a deeper level—optimal levels of happiness differs. All of these pieces are lost when the assumption becomes that all people around the world are, fundamentally, the same in the way they think and feel. Gaps in the existing map are too often overlooked when hasty conclusions are drawn from comparing country averages alone. Most of all, what is missing are detailed analyses of the ways happiness is structured and understood in each country and culture, and what cultural patterns are likely to be associated with higher levels of happiness. If we persist in the current policymaking mood of creating global indicators—a move we do not necessarily oppose—we have to first step back and question what happiness is, rather than quickly transpose existing views of happiness specific to one culture into global measurements, and speculate on how social institutions everywhere need to be improved. Yet, as we will now turn to examine, the main global rankings were, indeed, created without accounting for cultural differences in structure and understanding of happiness. That leaves it to us—cultural psychologists and comparative social scientists—to fill those gaps, and locate the missing pieces necessary to redraw the World Map of Happiness.