Psychological burdens

While the government has a responsibility to lift people out of poverty, it can do little, other than stimulate the economy and incorporate fairness into its policies, to inject a dose of long-lasting joy into those clamoring for more worldly goods. It is not the amount of wealth, but rather, the gap between where you are now and where you want to be, that determines your level of happiness, and that gap is shifting all the time.

I would say, of all the demographics in the country, the group most unhappy would be the one in close proximity with affluence yet unable to grab it. A migrant worker who toils with an army of others like him may use a point of reference very different from another migrant worker who runs errands for the superrich. The former will easily find people less lucky than he or she is, and the latter will probably be torn between bouts of pride and self-contempt.

Likewise, college graduates who fail to land decent jobs, or any jobs, are in a place where their expectation far exceeds reality even though, in material terms, they could be in a better condition than someone on an assembly line. A Peking University graduate was made miserable by his parents who chided him that he should be a mayor or a governor, although he is bringing home 9,000 yuan ($1,430) in monthly salary.

Which brings us to the crucial lever of power. Power, obviously, is an aphrodisiac that not only intoxicates but gratifies. When I was a kid, a relative brought me a fortune-telling book, from which we calculated the "fortune" of everyone we knew from a score based on one's birthday and birth time. Pointing to the highest possible score and its correlating great fortune, he said, "That's the chairman, or the emperor in the old times." "What about the second highest?" I asked. "Oh, that's the prime minister and he's the second happiest person," he replied.

Nowadays, it's almost preposterous to think politicians can be happy. If self-importance corresponds with happiness, we can do away with a survey and simply assign scores by their official rankings.

In recent years, a few of China's moneyed have resorted to tradition and religion for that elusive peace of mind many call happiness. They withdraw from dealing and wheeling, take up calligraphy or tea ceremonies, or even go into seclusion a la Taoist recluses. In a sense, they have reversed the ratio of material and spiritual pursuits to achieve that floating-on-air feeling.

As a country, we are showing more anxiety than felicity. If examined another way, it is not a bad thing. It means we are not satisfied with the status quo and strive for something better. A whole population that consists of meditative monks would turn a country into stagnant water. What we need is to turn a 100-meter dash into a sprightly walk with rest stops and moments to enjoy the scenery.

Contact the writer at raymondzhou@chinadaily.com.cn.