Against my better judgment, I've continued reading
Artificial Happiness. The author,
Ronald W. Dworkin, MD PhD, is a lively writer who has a lovely way with anecdotes, and a broad range of interests. He is very worried about this A.H. phenomenon which he says has swept the nation:
But imagine an entire class of people who stupefy themselves regularly and constantly, who remain stupefied throughout the day, and who live not on society's fringes but in the mainstream. Suddenly the problem grows more serious - millions of regular people stifling their consciences to live happier lives, thinking, and therefore behaving, in ways they would not otherwise do. Through sheer numbers these people pose a greater threat to the social fabric than murderers, prostitutes, and thieves.
One of his key premises, you will note, is that Artificial Happiness stifles one's conscience. This strikes me as a remarkably strong claim when we are talking about the effects of anti-depressants, alternative medicine, and "obsessive exercise".
Do all these joyous throngs
Lack a sense of right and wrong?
I put those scare quotes around obsessive exercise because I'm not sure what counts as obsessive in his book. Of course, we all know that anything with "obsessive" in front of it must be bad. Our author recognizes that "moderate" exercise is good for you, and from his photo on the book jacket he's in reasonably good shape, himself. What really seems to irk him is a certain sense of accomplishment some people take from exercise. He paints a portrait of a depressed hospital janitor who finds no joy in his mopping, but who discovers a new source of solace:
Instead he finds happiness by working toward fitness goals, which enhance his sense of time. After a workout, Jim ponders his exercise program. He doesn't know how much weight he will lift in the future, but he knows it will be more, which excites him so much since is real life is fixed and predictable...
When he sees overweight doctors climbing up the stairs at the hospital, panting and with little beads of sweat glistening on their sideburns, he swells with pride and thinks he's the better man...
All right. We can laugh at the janitor who thinks he is a "better man" than the doctors just because he's a better stair-climber. But is this guy's weight-lifting program a threat to the "social fabric"?
Real life is chopped into holidays, work goals, and family celebrations. Gym life is chopped into athletic accomplishments. In both cases, people look forward to events and remember them afterward, an experience that imparts weight and depth to the passing hour and helps people feel an expanded sense of being.
This is the passage that set me off the other day. I object to this Real life / Gym life dichotomy. Gyms exist in... real life. And I know lots of people who manage to incorporate work, family, and athletics into one... real life.
I should confess that I sometimes take pleasure in immoderate amounts of exercise. I even, dare I say it, have taken pride in such activities.
To be fair, the book has a lot of interesting information in it, mixed in with the stuff that makes my eyes roll. I think many of my difficulties with this book stem from my opposition to the author's philosophical outlook. In the last chapter, he writes:
The universal goal in life is lasting happiness, yet it is impossible to find lasting happiness. Such happiness might be obtainable if everyone cooperated, but everyone is too busy looking for their own happiness to do so.
Let me just stop right there. I think the opposite. I don't think I would care for a world in which only my happiness mattered. As for happiness itself, is it really just lasting contentment? Or is it experienced even in the midst of the struggle?
No contentment lasts forever
But there's joy in the endeavor
Of pursuing what's worthwhile
In a dedicated style.
