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Oliver Burkeman. (Michael Falco, for The Globe and Mail)
Oliver Burkeman. (Michael Falco, for The Globe and Mail)

Oliver Burkeman: a skeptical happiness expert Add to ...

For six years, Oliver Burkeman has written This Column Will Change Your Life, a look at the world of self-help, happiness studies and pop psychology, for Britain’s The Guardian. For two years, I wrote Happiness, a column in this paper.

The weekly exercise often makes him grumpy. “I just thought 80 per cent of this is rubbish,” he tells me by phone from Brooklyn, N.Y., where he lives.

My experience made me tired. All that happiness research can be very annoying. I actually grew to dislike Gretchen Rubin, author of the bestselling The Happiness Project and Pollyanna of the happiness world who figures that every hint of sadness can be fixed with a little determination, change of habit or a mantra.

For his new book, The Antidote: Happiness for People Who Can’t Stand Positive Thinking, the Cambridge-educated 37-year-old Mr. Burkeman set out to find the “negative path” to contentedness. He thought that all the effort to get happy may be part of the problem. Not only that, he figured that the self-help culture is not very good at helping itself, if it had to keep coming up with happiness schemes. He was going to find a better way.

Finally, a skeptical happiness expert who seems to make sense.

Why are we so obsessed with happiness?

I think we always have been obsessed but under different guises. If you go back to ancient Greece and Rome, philosophy is meant to be therapeutic: The reason for asking what is the nature of the good life is so that you can put it into practice.

But new scientific findings about happiness increase interest, no?

There have been real breakthroughs in how to measure, or roughly measure, well-being in ways such that you can actually get at real truths about them. But the other part of this is, the current modern self-help movement is very much capitalism’s answers to these eternal questions. The happiness literature is an ideological instrument that promotes this individualist philosophy that you’ve got to deal with it on your own.

Were you an unhappy man before writing the book?

I didn’t start the book and research process in a state of terrible misery and end up in some place of complete contentment. But on the other hand, these are things that I have grappled with, and journalism is a brilliant cover for investigating all sorts of things that you’re totally obsessed by.

You basically pooh-pooh positive thinking.

There’s definitely a distinction to be made between positive thinking and positive psychology. You can see positive psychology as a very broad movement to look at the causes of happiness as well as the psychology of problems, and so I have a lot of time for that. But positive thinking is about actually trying to make your mental state something that it isn’t, trying to fill your mind with happy thoughts and feelings. What I wanted to get at is that sometimes the real skill you need is a not-doing skill, sort of learning to resist the urge to always try to do everything right.

Compared with your book, Gretchen Rubin’s to-do approach to happiness (The Happiness Project and Happiness at Home) is much easier to grasp. You’re asking people to incorporate some complicated ideas.

Fundamentally, this is about seeing the world differently – a shift in perspective, the moment when the optical illusion slips from being one thing to another. It’s about trying to trigger that. On the other hand, there are things you can do, and I suggest a few of them. I’m saying, “Look, you don’t need to become a full-time stoic or a full-time Buddhist. Use this technique.” I don’t object to a practical approach.

Your funniest example was going on the London Underground and calling out the names of the stops loudly in a deliberate ritual of self-humiliation. You were inviting negative feelings. That must be hard for a well-behaved Englishman.

The basic idea of it is derived from stoic exercises, which [in ancient times] obviously didn’t involve public transport. But the same idea is behind it. The point is not that it’s fun to do or that it isn’t quite embarrassing but that there’s a huge disproportion between the anxiety that’s provoked by thinking about it and actually doing it. It has this effect of sort of training a muscle, to ask yourself what the worst in any situation could be as a way of defeating anxiety. It’s very contrary to the positive-thinking culture.

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