‘Happiness should become the goal of policy, and the progress of national happiness should be measured and analysed as closely as the growth of GNP.’ So argues Lord Layard, popularly known as the government’s ‘happiness tsar’ [Ref: Scotsman]. In his influential book Happiness: Lessons from a New Science [Ref: Amazon] Layard writes: ‘Happiness is that ultimate goal because, unlike all other goals, it is self-evidently good’. A flurry of books, articles, policy proposals and TV programmes have followed, all concerned with pinpointing the causes of happiness (often also referred to as ‘life satisfaction’ or ‘wellbeing’). Much of this interest has been sparked by research which claims to identify a ‘paradox of prosperity’: while over the last 50 years we may have got richer, it’s claimed that we haven’t got any happier. After basic needs have been met, increases in income no longer seem to increase our happiness. Just like if it were a drug, we quickly adapt to having extra money and need to keep on having more to sustain our happiness. In the terms of another popular metaphor, we’re stuck on a ‘hedonic treadmill’ having to run faster and faster just to stay still. As a result, the government has been urged to fundamentally rethink the goals of public policy to take account of the fact that there’s more to life than money. Conservative leader David Cameron [Ref: Guardian] has vied with Tony Blair [Ref: Independent] to be associated with the happiness agenda. The Himalayan kingdom of Bhutan has attracted attention for its attempt to replace GNP with GNH, or Gross National Happiness [Ref: BBC News]. A BBC TV programme took up the challenge of ‘Making Slough Happy’ [Ref: BBC] and lessons in positive psychology have even found their way on to the school curriculum [Ref: BBC News]. Both the emerging policy consensus and the underlying research have been disputed, however. While few would deny the desirability of happiness, it doesn’t necessarily follow from this that its promotion should be a direct goal of government policy. This raises two related questions: First, can the government promote happiness? Indeed, can happiness be measured and what policies would such research recommend? And, second, should the government set itself this goal, or should individuals be responsible for their own happiness?

Haven’t governments always been concerned with promoting happiness?
The equal right of everyone to pursue their own happiness was a key concern of Enlightenment thinkers. Utilitarian philosophers and social reformers like Jeremy Bentham and John Stuart Mill argued that government policies should follow the principle of promoting the greatest overall happiness. Today, utilitarianism is back in fashion, but two things have changed. While previously the role of government was seen as being to provide the preconditions for happiness by ensuring a steady increase in economic growth and promoting freedom of choice, today’s utilitarians argue the focus should be on the feelings of individuals. The second change, which it’s argued makes this first aspiration possible, is that happiness research now lays claim to being a science, fulfilling the utilitarian dream of allowing us to accurately measure happiness.

Can happiness really be measured?
Lord Layard argues we can avoid the danger of paternalism by basing policies on objective scientific evidence about people’s feelings, such as that provided by neuroscience. Instead of promoting freedom of choice as an end in itself we can then ensure that people enjoy a range of choices that will allow them to achieve happiness. Opponents say happiness shouldn’t be defined in terms of feelings of psychological wellbeing. Rather, happiness is a by-product of having meaningful goals and attachments in one’s life, not something that can be measured, taught or pursued directly. This suggestion of a paradoxical quality to happiness is captured by Mill’s idea that: ‘Ask yourself whether you are happy, and you cease to be so’.

What government policies might make us happier?
Many have been proposed, cutting across the political divide between left and right, including school lessons on emotional intelligence, parenting classes, support for volunteering and work-life balance, tax increases for the rich (whose extra wealth has little effect on their happiness), a ban on commercial advertising to children, extra incentives for marriage and more money to tackle mental illness [Ref: BBC News]. Critics suggest many of these policies interfere with individual freedom and that happiness research often leads to conservative conclusions (it suggests people are happier living amongst people like themselves, for example). They also argue it ignores benefits from increased prosperity, like extra freedom and independence, that aren’t reducible to happiness.

Should the government be concerned with making us happy?
Opponents of the happiness agenda argue it sets up an unattainable goal and ignores how overcoming dissatisfaction can be a spur to social and individual development: true happiness involves taking responsibility for our lives, they say. They also suggest that focusing on people’s feelings is a convenient agenda for politicians in search of a Big Idea. However, in the absence of other social goals capable of generating mass support, the self-evident appeal of the pursuit of happiness appears increasingly attractive.