WHEN PEOPLE
ask me why I'm so negative, I always tell them I'm simply looking
out for my best interests and everyone else's. Like instant mashed
potatoes (which, let's face it, are often better than real mashed
potatoes), negativity gets a bad rap. Everywhere you look, someone's
waxing fustian about the power of positive thinking.
Want a job
promotion, a new sweetheart, a cure for that nasty foot fungus?
Just say yes! Close your eyes and imagine a future of generous
end-of-year bonuses, the unconditional love of a flawless human
being, feet so bacteria-free you could eat off them. Do you see
it? Yes? Then you shall have it.
This is total
bunk. I know because my life is pretty good, and I attribute it
to imagining the worst and then being pleasantly surprised when
the worst doesn't happen. Last week, I read about research out
of the Netherlands suggesting this outlook increases my chances
of dying from causes such as heart disease. The study asked subjects
between the ages of 65 and 85 to react to such statements as "I
still have positive expectations concerning my future" and "I
often feel that life is full of promises." Of the 397 who
died during the study, 56.5% fell into the "pessimistic" category.
This news
might have moved me to change my ways (or at least stop eating
powdered mashed potatoes), but then I saw an article about some
new data from Denmark. Over the last three decades, Danes have
been shown to have higher rates of "life satisfaction" than
any other Western country. Their key to contentment? Low expectations.
As the article
explained, Danes know they don't come from the largest, blondest
or most temperate nation on Earth. They don't expect to be big
winners of any game. So when good things happen, they're that much
happier.
This is the
philosophy I've been living for years. It's why I go to every party
expecting to have a miserable time and leave for every vacation
betting it will rain. These scenarios are rarely realized, so my
life generally floats along on a steady undercurrent of joyous
relief. That's the power of negative thinking.
I fervently
believe there's such a thing as being too positive, especially
when expectation gets confused with hope. Americans seem especially
unable to separate these ideas, and for good reason. Our entire
ethos is wrapped up in the myth of turning dreams into realities,
of constantly reaching for higher goals, of never settling.
Obviously,
this can-do spirit is what turned us into the world's most powerful
nation. Without it, we wouldn't have railroads and vaccines and,
coming soon, the Apple iPhone. But it's worth remembering that
the phrase "the pursuit of happiness" wasn't originally
connected with the terms "life" and "liberty." Thomas
Jefferson's wording of the Declaration of Independence was inspired
by the work of 17th century British philosopher John Locke, whose
social contract outlined rights to "life, liberty and the
pursuit of property." It was Jefferson who substituted "happiness" for "property," saddling
centuries of Americans with the notion that happiness is not only
a realistic expectation, it goes hand in hand with life itself.
(I say, don't blame your mother that you're in therapy, blame Jefferson.)
Of course,
we've been taking Locke's advice all along by relentlessly pursuing
property and confusing its acquisition with happiness. But I've
always thought we'd be better served by a line like "the pursuit of contentment" or,
better yet, "life, liberty and hope." That's because pursuing
happiness as a social contract sounds a lot like a mandate to set
pie-in-the-sky goals and then feel cheated when they don't come to
pass. Hope, on the other hand, has some poetry to it. Hope acknowledges
human desires while respecting life's uncontrollable forces. It's
downsized from the entitlement inherent in expectation.
Do we hope
our children will wind up in Ivy League colleges, or do we expect
them to? Did we bank on fivefold appreciation when we bought the
house with a 0% ARM, or did we just have our fingers crossed? Did
the president hope military intervention would bring peace to Iraq,
or did he … oh, never
mind.
It's interesting
how the maxim "Hope
for the best, prepare for the worst" now sounds quaint. It even
suggests bad karma. But that's the problem with positive thinking.
It skips right over simple satisfaction and careens headlong into
high expectations.
So let's
stop being so optimistic. How else do we expect to beat Denmark
at this game?