Happy: Why More or Less Everything is Absolutely Fine

by Derren Brown

T. S. Eliot told us ‘Humanity cannot bear very much reality.’14 Now, more than ever before, we are presented with a coruscating array of narcotics and divertissements, which pander to the myopic, amnesic fancies of our experiencing self. Of course they have their place. They are each helpful or amusing in the short term, and we would begrudge neither the beleaguered family man his PlayStation, nor the weekend bacchanal her occasional restorative. Life would be less colourful without such things, assembled by man to stimulate or calm the mind. But they are the very opposite of what we truly need at our core: mechanisms to help us engage with our deep stories. Without these structures, we merely swing between Schopenhauer’s poles of pain and boredom. Xanax without therapy, or PlayStation without conversation, do little for us. Not only this: we also laugh at religion, that ham-fisted effort to articulate our deep need for meaning. We are no longer pointed towards the profound; we are distracted from it or too easily able to drown out its call. Yet life remains synonymous with growth, and the best growth comes from recognising the yearnings and crises of the spirit. Today’s crisis is that we don’t know how to honour our deep needs, and we mistake recreation for happiness.