Australian social psychologist Hugh Mackay‘s new book The Good Life critiques the “outbreak” of positivity as a consumer industry. I share with you Mackay’s interview with Radio National as an example of public social science. 

Mackay argues that the pursuit of happiness is hollow and does not provide an inner sense of satisfaction. He suggests we must distinguish between the good life and the happy life. The best criteria is not necessarily our emotional state.

Mackay sees that the cult of perfection, pop psychology, and the drug culture tell us that we can be happy simply by thinking positively or by reading self-help books and taking prescription medicine. However, Mackay notes that life is about experiencing emotional challenges.

Thinking that the low emotional state should be erased from our personal experience compounds further problems. This mindset feeds the “happiness industry” where we feel as if we need to pay other people to provide us with a state of happiness. Mackay differentiates this from clinical states of depression and other extreme mood problems that require professional support.

Mackay notes this is different from the “utopia” complex, which denies the full rubric of human experience. He sees that the “whole human experience” needs to embrace the full “spectrum of experience,” by exploring the highs, lows and tedious moments in life. We must understand that privileging one emotion – happiness – as the “sovereign emotion” is ultimately damaging and it stops us from being resilient during times of personal crisis. 

The consequences of the “self esteem” movement in childhood, has positioned happiness as the ideal state for children to be. This has generated other issues. Mackay references The Atlantic’s article “How to Land Your Kid in Therapy,” arguing that constant praise, telling a child that they are always special, and that they are winners, leads to many problems later in life. When children grow up and find that they are not as special and perfect as they once believed, this creates a crisis later in life. They feel like “failures” and they don’t know how to realign their life’s purpose. Mackay notes that this feeds a culture of therapy and self-medication. He says:

“What will we nurture, what will we reinforce?”

Mackay argues that the good life is a “life lived for others.” He refers to Roy Baumeister who thinks that the key to a satisfied life is not self esteem but self control, or “the moral muscle.” Self respect is also important for childhood development. It is best to learn early how to control our impulse to always please ourselves. It is more helpful to our self-growth to ask ourselves “who are we?” rather than “who am I?” That is, “where do I fit?” within my community. 

Carl Rogers is a psychologist who argues that self realisation (becoming the person I really am) is about self understanding in the context of our relationship as “social creatures.”

Mackay asks in his book, “What is the most powerful force for good in the world?” Most people might say “love.” The most productive emotions relate to kindness, tolerance, and charity in a broader social context. It can only be understood as something we do with other people. 

As the interviewer points out, the word “good” is loaded. One person’s measure of “good” is another’s source of oppression. This is the same case with “love.” Mackay defines goodness on a moral basis: doing things to improve the lives of others. 

Mackay says that intelligence is an overrated pathway to the good life. Mackay sees that society can be cruel in their expectations of intelligence in children. Most people are not extremely intelligent, and yet we are often unkind towards the so-called “unintelligent” (for example, saying “he’s stupid”). This creates a winners and losers mentality that stops the public from being kind and charitable to the people seen as unintelligent, such as people who can’t manage their money, or who are otherwise disadvantaged. The interviewer adds that this only feeds prejudice.

The “golden rule” to “treat others the way you want to be treated” is a philosophy that exists in many cultures – from ancient Egyptian culture, to Greek philosophers such as Socrates, to Hinduism, Chinese philosophy, and modern secular humanism. Mackay rejects the idea that humans are inherently selfish. Instead he sees that people are more capable of altruism than consumer culture would have us believe. 

The golden rule is seldom applied in Australian politics. Politicians do not treat other politicians with kindness and respecting what they have to say. Instead, Mackay argues that politicians are vicious. Citizens observe this and lose confidence in the institution of politics. Voters feel powerless to change the political climate as long as we treat politics as a “blood sport.” Media feeds this cycle of attack.

We must learn to speak thoughtfully about social policy issues, learn from one another, and be less focused on the election cycle. 

The golden rule has not been applied to the marketplace. Wall Street has not been subjected to accountability legal processes, despite the global financial crisis. Savage price cutting to drive small and local business out of the market is ruthless and does not help reinforce civil society. We need to nurture local communities and local resources.

Three things can equip ordinary people to live the good life. These depend upon understanding one central element of human nature, which is to be taken seriously in all our circumstances, and at every stage of our life cycle.

Acknowledge me, listen to me, attend to me, and take notice of me.

The signs for living a good life are:

1. Listen attentively. When you interact with someone, focus on their words rather than looking for an opportunity to move onto something else, or simply waiting for our turn to speak.
2. Apologising sincerely. If someone doesn’t treat us well, we need a serious apology. 
3. Forgive. We must exercise our capacity to forgive generously, and realise that when we apologise we might not be ever forgiven. 

With respect to the last point, Mackay argues that the Australian Government’s formal apologies for pervasive injustice is limited. He notes that in some cases, where the harm is too grave, there may be no forgiveness, especially where there’s a personal trauma.