Moment 129: Life Changing Lessons From The World's Longest (85 Years) Study On Happiness: Dr Robert Waldinger

No two companies are alike. That's why the American Express Corporate Program can help you customize rewards, reporting, and billing options, all designed for your business. Build your program with American Express at AmericanExpress.com/corporate. Terms apply.

So, with this study, you became the director of it. Let’s start at the top level then. This study sets out to answer some of the big questions in life: the most important things about what makes us happy, what keeps us healthy—socially healthy, physically healthy. You’ve got the longest study of humans that anyone thinks has ever been done. You’ve been studying them for decades upon decades. Looking at that research and being a first-party to all of that information, how has it changed you?

It’s very much made me take care of my own relationships. Because the biggest, most surprising finding in the study was that it’s our relationships that keep us healthier and happier. I’m a Harvard professor; I could work non-stop until I drop dead. I mean, that’s just the way academia works.

What I realized was, particularly once my kids weren’t there pulling me away to go take them somewhere or do something with them, I could just work all the time. So, what I’ve started doing is being much more intentional about calling my friends, about saying, "Let’s go for a walk," "Let’s go out to dinner," "Let’s make sure we get together."

I never would have done that before. Particularly as a man, I think women are much better at it. My wife is much better at calling friends on the phone and making sure they get together. I had to teach myself to do that. I had to take my own medicine, based on what I was studying in my work life.

What do we get wrong about the subject matter of happiness? If you were to ask those participants what they thought would cause happiness in their lives, or you were to ask a millennial, what are the answers that we say? How wrong are we?

And are we good at knowing? Someone asked me this yesterday at an event; they put their hand up and said—we were talking about remote working and this whole change and disruption that's happened in the workplace—and they said, "Do my employees actually know what they want?" It was a really curious question. I ended up answering—and this is maybe a little bit controversial—that most of us don’t know what we want in most facets of our life.

Yes, and we’re bad at knowing what’s going to make us happy. I’ll give you an example that is in the book. There was a study in the city of Chicago where they were studying commuters—people who were about to get on the train and take the train to work, like they did every day.

They took a random sample of people. In one group, they were assigned to do what they always do on the train; it could have been listening to music or reading the news on their phone. The other group, randomly, was assigned to talk to a stranger on the train, which none of them had ever done.

They asked them beforehand, "How much do you think you’re going to like this assignment?" The people assigned to talk to strangers said, "I’m not going to enjoy this." Afterward, after they completed their assignments, the people who had talked to strangers were much happier than the people who had done their usual routine of staying on their phones or reading the newspaper.

It’s an example of how we’re not so good at knowing what’s going to make us happy, particularly when it comes to connecting with each other. There’s something about these small conversations we can have with strangers, or even with someone we barely know, that turn out to be very energizing more often than not.

But we’re always afraid. We’re afraid someone’s going to think we’re strange if we strike up a conversation, or we’re going to get stuck talking to someone we don’t like. But what we find is that the culture gives us these messages about what will make us happy that turn out not to be the truth.

A lot of the messages are about consumerism. We’re told, "If you buy this car, you’re going to be happy," or "If you serve this brand of pasta, you’re going to have blissful family dinners." Even though we sort of know this isn’t true, the advertisements really do inculcate this sense that if we consume the right things, we’ll be happy.

What we know from our research and many other studies is that that’s just not so. These connections with each other actually do make us happy. For example, you and I are talking now, and your questions and your interest in my work are actually energizing for me. It’s making me happier than when I walked in the door today.

Why?

I think there’s something about wanting to be seen. You’re actually saying, "I want to know you, I want to know what’s going on with you." There’s something about that which makes us feel like we belong and that we’re connected.

We talk about this in the book—the idea that when we are curious about another person, it’s giving them a gift. It’s giving them a way to be seen and a way to tell about themselves that we all really yearn for at some level. It’s something we can give to each other every day.

When you compare and contrast the two lists—List A, which says what we think we want, and List B, which your study on happiness has shown leads to happiness—what are the things, in order, that we are most wrong about?

Probably the three big ones: we’re most wrong about fame, wealth, and badges of achievement. "If I win this prize," "If I get to be CEO," that kind of thing.

Because the culture tells us all day long that these will make us happy, and because they’re measurable. If you think about fame, it’s likes, it’s how many downloads of a podcast, it’s how many people read a book. It’s measurable and quantifiable. Wealth, of course, is quantifiable. And achievement.

But what we know is that those things don’t do it. Now, meaningful work can make us happy and can be fulfilling; that’s different from getting the prize or the badge. By contrast, you can’t measure relationships. They’re kind of messy, complicated, and often full of ups and downs and conflicts.

You can’t quantify it, and you can’t hold onto it; it’s always changing. So, by contrast, these relationships that actually turn out to make us happy are not things you can get your hands around as easily as those shiny brass objects you can go for.

So why do we, outside of the media influence, have a proclivity to strive for things like fame? Is there an evolutionary basis for wanting to be famous, rich, or high status?

Can I get into Zen a little bit?

Of course you can, please.

There’s a writer named David Loy who writes about this, and I think he’s really onto something. In Zen philosophy, if you really look for the self—if you sit down on a meditation cushion and I look for "Bob," like "Who’s Bob?"—I can’t find him. I can’t find a "me" anywhere. I can find a swirl of thoughts and ever-changing sensations coming from my body, but I can’t really find a fixed thing that I call Bob.

David Loy argues that all of us, at some level, know this—that there isn’t really a fixed self that’s going to go on through time and last after I die. At some level, that's scary to know.

David Loy argues that many of us are grabbing for things like wealth, fame, and dominating the earth or each other in a kind of wish to make ourselves feel more real, more permanent, more fixed—like we really exist. I think he’s right.

I think about all the ways I’ve been preoccupied with, "Am I going to be remembered when I’m gone?" Well, I’m probably not. Fifty years from now, nobody’s going to really remember who I was. If I really let that sink into my bones, that’s scary. So, I’d rather write a book with my name on it, or endow a building that will keep my name on it for a while until the building falls down—do something that makes me last longer, that makes the "Bob self" feel more real.

That’s the deep Zen dive I didn’t mean to take you on, but I think for me, that's the most helpful explanation as to why we all, myself included, get preoccupied by these badges of achievement.

With that comes a ton of suffering, right? The desire to be permanent and significant.

Yes! And to compare ourselves. Because with that comes comparison. We know that when we compare ourselves to others more frequently during the day, we are less happy—even if it’s a positive comparison where we’re doing a downward comparison.

Even if it’s a positive comparison, there’s always the threat of falling short. You’re deciding to play a game which is like a psychological decision to play a game where sometimes you’ll win, but sometimes you’ll lose. So, it’s better not to play the game of comparison altogether.

What I find is when I put the comparisons aside, which I can do sometimes, I’m so much more at peace. When someone says to me, "Do you know that so-and-so got this many views or so-and-so had this many likes on social media?" I can feel a little part of myself get anxious or close off, or start making that comparison that almost physically hurts a little bit. When I let that go—if I can just sit and look at a tree for five minutes—I get a sense of equanimity that I can’t get when I’m doing these small comparisons.

The brain engages in these comparisons quite naturally. It’s trying to make snap decisions so it doesn’t have to expend too much energy about the value of things and what things mean. I’ve read about the studies in restaurants where they add an expensive steak to the menu; now, because there’s a really expensive one, people will assume that the low-priced steak is not good, so they’ll avoid that one and go for the middle one.

Their decision changes based on the frame in which they see the options. It’s the same with humans; we’re trying to figure out the value of ourselves by snap comparisons. When you hear about these things the brain is doing, you go, "Why does the brain hate me?"

Exactly! The other thing is when I look at the animal world, I think about all the ways we get preoccupied with "Do I look right?" or "Am I dressed right?" or "Have I achieved enough?" Then I look at birds, and I think, I bet they’re not showing up worrying about those things. What a relief, what a wonderful thing not to be worried about those things. I do find that this practice of mine can get me there some of the time. Not all the time, but some of the time.

I know the brain doesn’t hate you. I used to wonder this with weight loss, for example, until I sat here with dietary experts. Why, when I have some sugar, do I then get sugar cravings? They explained to me that your brain is actually on your side; it’s trying to help you survive.

Once upon a time, when we didn’t have fridges and supermarkets and Uber Eats, coming across some sugar would advance your chances of survival. It would give you energy. Even with the comparison, it’s a tool that helps me make quick decisions. My brain doesn’t hate me, but the world we live in was not designed for my brain.

I wasn’t supposed to be able to look at a billion people on a glass screen, and so the suffering is really a byproduct of a changing world, not a brain that hates you. I see that throughout your work: the world has changed to make us unhappy in several ways. What do we do about that? We can’t leave the world.

No, we can’t leave the world, and the world is always going to keep changing. For example, sometimes we can demonize screens and we can demonize the digital revolution. That’s not going away. So, really, it’s about being as adaptable as we can.

For me, the question is: how can we be as intentional as possible? Our brains evolved, as you’re saying; they don’t hate us, but they evolved in certain ways and so they need correctives. Similarly, the digital world has evolved in certain ways.

Digital software and digital media are designed to grab our attention and hold it—to exploit that brain. So then, how can we be intentional enough to turn away from that software when we need to, when we need to turn toward each other? When we need to have real-time contact with each other that’s so nourishing emotionally and psychologically? How can we keep from going down the rabbit hole that social media has evolved to keep us hooked on? Not because social media is evil, but just because that’s how they’ve developed in order for people to make a living.

It is quite exhausting, I think. Industry, business, and even the high street—everything is designed to exploit the brain. The shops are selling sugar and carbs, or you go to the gambling shop and that will exploit your brain's dopamine response to flashing lights and pulling that lever. It’s difficult.

It is difficult, and that’s where suffering comes in. One of the things I see as a psychiatrist—but we all see this—is that people often want to change their state. They just want to change how they feel.

There’s this great cartoon I like: there’s this meditator sitting on a cushion, and there’s a thought bubble over his head. What he’s thinking is, "I really do want to be in the moment, just not this moment."

If you think about all the ways in which we want to change our state—by gambling, the excitement of gambling, or the sugar high we get when I get some delicious ice cream—it’s a way of changing that kind of sense of malaise that comes over us moment to moment.

I think one of the things we can do instead is simply be present for that malaise and then watch it pass, which it does eventually. Basically, by and large, we’re trying to get rid of some of the less pleasant experiences of our momentary life, but they’ll pass all by themselves if you just pay attention.

No two companies are alike. That’s why the American Express Corporate Program can help you customize rewards, reporting, and billing options, all designed for your business. Build your program with American Express at AmericanExpress.com/corporate. Terms apply.

When your cat is acting weirder, or your dog is being louder, your turtle moves slower, your cat seems thirstier, or your puppy is acting clumsier... Day or night, if you don't know what's wrong, know where to go. Veg ER for pets. Veg: the better, kinder ER for pets.

Taxes was waiting on the refund you needed yesterday. "All right, your car repairs are going to run about three grand." Now, Taxes is getting back on the road with TurboTax and Credit Karma, where you can get your refund up to five days faster and get personalized guidance to take every dollar further. This is Taxes. Intuit Credit Karma with TurboTax.

Deposit a federal refund into a Credit Karma money account. Early submission of refund data by IRS required. Terms apply. Banking services provided by MVB Bank Inc, member FDIC. Credit Karma is not a bank.