A bigger economy doesn't always buy
happiness
By Eric Weiner, Los Angeles Times,
November 13, 2006
The U.S. should think about a
general wellness index alongside GDP to gauge the country's true
health.
Los Angeles, USA -- A QUICK QUIZ. What do the
following have in common? The war in Iraq. Sales of cigarettes. The
recent fires in Southern California.
The answer: They all contribute to our nation's gross domestic
product, or GDP, and therefore are all considered "good," at least
in the dismal eyes of economists.
GDP is the sum of all goods and services a nation produces over a
given time. GDP measures the size of the pie, not the quality of
the ingredients fresh apples or rotten ones are counted the same.
Or, to put it another way, the sale of an assault rifle and the
sale of an antibiotic both contribute equally to the national tally
(assuming the sales price is the same).
GDP doesn't register, as Robert Kennedy put it, "the beauty of our
poetry or the strength of our marriages, or the intelligence of our
public debate." GDP measures everything, Kennedy concluded, "except
that which makes life worthwhile."
Yet we continue to track this quarterly statistic as if nothing
else matters. If GDP is up, we feel good. It means we as a nation
are doing better and are, presumably, happier. Low rates of growth
or, God forbid, a shrinking economy mean we are less well off and,
presumably, less happy.
However, recent research into happiness or subjective well-being,
as social scientists call it reveals that beyond the surprisingly
low level of about $15,000 a year, the link between economic growth
and happiness evaporates.
Americans are three times wealthier than we were half a century
ago, but we are no happier. The same is true of Japan and many
other industrialized nations. Yet we continue to treat economic
growth and well-being as one and the same.
But one country does not. Bhutan, a tiny Himalayan nation, has
invented a radically new metric: Gross National Happiness.
It's not a joke, and these mountain people are not oxygen-deprived.
Bhutan, sandwiched between India and China, is serious about
pursuing a different kind of development, one that, in the words of
the late economist E. F. Schumacher, treats "economics as if people
mattered."
Others have toyed with alternative measures of national progress,
but none have gone as far as Bhutan's happiness policy. The
country's home minister, Jigmi Y. Thinley, calls conventional
measures of economic growth "delusional." Instead, Bhutanese
officials make decisions based, in part, on whether they will
contribute to the nation's collective happiness.
No, the Bhutanese are not closet communists. They want economic
growth just like everybody else. In fact, Bhutan hopes to join the
World Trade Organization. But the country is committed to sane and
sustainable growth. This means sometimes making decisions that,
from an economist's point of view, make no sense.
Bhutan, a beautiful land of mountains and temples, has forsaken
millions of tourist dollars by, in effect, restricting the number
of foreign visitors. (It does this by charging a $200 daily fee.)
And while other developing countries have sold off their natural
resources to the highest bidder, Bhutan has hardly touched its
timber and minerals. The country also has taken some unusual steps
to protect its Tibetan Buddhist culture. All buildings must be
built in a traditional manner, and all citizens must wear
traditional dress for men, a flowing robe called a gho in
public places during business hours.
We might find such rules onerous but, having recently spent several
weeks in the country, I found most Bhutanese happily accept such
trade-offs.
The Bhutanese, of course, are enticed by the goodies of the West.
Cellphones and Internet cafes are in vogue, and there is more than
one disco in the capital (though no traffic lights). But many
Bhutanese are willing to forsake money for happiness; for a slower,
more human pace of life. The vast majority of Bhutanese who study
abroad, for instance, return to their homeland, where they earn a
fraction of what they could earn in the West.
The concept of Gross National Happiness still has a long way to go.
Some have called it an empty slogan, a dangerously fuzzy one that
can provide cover for all manner of government ineptitude. The fear
is that Bhutanese officials can respond to any criticism with the
T-shirt platitude: Don't worry, be happy.
Others point out that Bhutan is no Shangri-La. It has crime and
alcoholism and unhappy people, just like anywhere else. All valid
concerns, but alternatives to growth-at-any-cost policies are
desperately needed. Bhutan's Gross National Happiness may not be
the answer to the problem, but it does reframe the question
namely, what is a sensible way for a country to achieve the
greatest happiness for the greatest number of its citizens?
In fact, the idea is catching on. One Chinese province is
developing a happiness index. And the leader of Britain's
Conservative Party has floated the idea of GWB general well-being
as a way to gauge the nation's progress.
I think we Americans could embrace something similar not as a
replacement for more traditional measures but as a supplement. I
can envision a day in the not-too-distant future when a happiness
index scrolls alongside GDP and stock prices on your cable screen.
Sound strange? Flaky? No stranger or flakier than pinning our
hopes and dreams to a statistic that tallies oil spills and wars on
the plus side of the ledger.