Count No One Happy: Eudaimonia and Positive Psychology.

Abstract

Some aspects of “second-generation” Positive Psychology are analyzed and their origins explored. In particular, Seligman’s importation of the concept of eudaimonia from Aristotelian ethics is critiqued and found to be problematic. This conclusion is reached through an examination of the concept of eudaimonia as it was employed in ancient philosophy. COUNT NO ONE HAPPY: EUDAIMONIA AND POSITIVE PSYCHOLOGY One would have to be downright churlish to regard the Positive Psychology movement with complete disdain. After all, is not a movement comprising a group of bright, accomplished researchers doing their best to identify and promote the well-being of humanity worthy of endorsement and even praise? We certainly feel that it is. And the faintness of our praise coupled with our criticisms of various aspects of the movement should not be taken as broad advocacy of human misery or the lachrymose life of the tortured artist or creative genius. Even the Buddhists, who see suffering as inevitable and ubiquitous, give hope for a better day and a means of achieving it. What follows, rather, is intended in the spirit of friendly and constructive criticism, a contribution to the perennial and essential discussion about how we are to conceive the good life, a discussion that was given recent impetus by leaders of the Positive Psychology movement. Positive Psychology is a vigorous, well-funded, and rapidly evolving movement. So dynamic is the movement that critique becomes difficult, given the speed with which the target moves. Though the volume that introduced Positive Psychology, a special issue of the American Psychologist that appeared in 2000, gave lip service to such concepts as citizenship, love, wisdom, and courage, it seemed to be in essence about promoting those states, traits, and institutions that would foster good health and subjective well-being. Guignon’s (2002) critique of this volume indicated that important human virtues were either neglected or absent entirely, especially some central to the philosophical life, namely the important virtues of reflection or critical examina\\server05\productn\T\THE\25-1\THE107.txt unknown Seq: 2 24-OCT-05 11:25 82 Journal of Theoretical and Philosophical Psy. Vol. 25, No. 1, 2005 tion and honesty or truthfulness. But Positive Psychology circa 2000 was a work in progress. Within the blink of an eye Peterson and Seligman (2004) seemingly had covered all the bases with their list of 24 “Virtues in Action Strengths” that included “judgment/critical thinking” and “integrity/honesty.” So given that Positive Psychologists now are promoting all the virtues that have ever been thought to be constitutive of the good life, is there still a problem? In morphing from students of hedonism into inquirers into the broader and deeper currents of human well-being, Positive Psychologists, in all likelihood, were reacting to or anticipating the challenge that the movement sometimes comes off as a shallow “happiology” (cf. Lazarus, 2003; Woolfolk, 2002). To this end, there has been a sincere effort to add some gravitas. Notably, Seligman (2002a) has distinguished among the “pleasant life,” the “good life,” and the “meaningful life.” The pleasant life is concerned with maximizing pleasure, about creating, maintaining, and intensifying positive feelings, what we might call first-generation Positive Psychology. According to Seligman, the good life, however, is not about maximizing positive emotion, but is a life wrapped up in successfully using your signature strengths to obtain abundant and authentic gratification. (Seligman, 2002a, p. 249) The good life thus results from using one’s “highest strengths.” Seligman goes on to identify the good life with Csikszentmihalyi’s (1990) concept of “flow,” a state in which we subjectively seem to merge with the activity, losing a sense of separateness or agency. The sense of the passage of time is altered, as well, as we dissolve into the moment and time seems to stop. Participating in an activity in this fashion has a certain mystical ring to citizens of cultures predicated on Cartesian mind-body splits and individualistic, person-centered concepts of consciousness. Yet, even the most experientially fragmented Westerner can point to some experience in which something akin to a loss of boundary between self and external world seems to have occurred. Athletes talk about being in the “zone” and musicians refer to being “one with the music.” And, of course, Csikszentmihalyi and others have conducted much research on the experience of flow. Flow does seem qualitatively different from the feelings of satiation after a satisfying meal or the joy of saving money on one’s auto insurance. So far so good. Seems like we might be headed into Zen territory, an appealing and familiar destination for many Westerners seeking a better and more coherent life. But at this juncture, somewhat incredibly, Seligman goes on to identify absorption in the moment with the philosophy of Aristotle and the key concept of Aristotelian ethics, eudaimonia. Seligman gives a highly idiosyncratic interpretation of this concept from Greek philosophy: \\server05\productn\T\THE\25-1\THE107.txt unknown Seq: 3 24-OCT-05 11:25