When Fatalism Means Freedom

I responded to a friend's Facebook post about depression. I didn't do a good job of articulating a response so I'm going to try to do that here.

The Happiness Curve shows that happiness is highest in our early 20s, goes down each year, bottoms out around 45-50, and goes up each year after that.

I think about this whenever I am stressed. It is easy to blame my problems on something fundamentally flawed about myself (introversion, neuroticism), or on my unique situation (kids, finances). But the happiness research reminds me that I'm not unique; I'm just a person in his late 30s on the down slope of the curve.

In other words, this is supposed to happen.

Whatever problems seem to cause your depression—loneliness, work, money, etc.—don't just disappear once you turn 56. And yet, everyone seems to get happier at that age. Even people in their 80s and 90s, in the worst physical health of their lives, are happier than ever (a good counter argument is that this could be survivorship bias: the least happy people die by this age and are no longer counted in the data).

As a non-theist, I don't believe in fatalism as divine intervention. But I do believe that evolutionary factors and cultural forces shape my behavior beyond my sovereign control of it.

And yet, this makes me happy.

I find liberty in knowing that I don't have a whole lot of control over my well being and that it is going to get better. Maybe I like knowing that I won't have to do anything to be happier, other than wait to turn 56.

I remember reading Camus' The Myth of Sisyphus in which he concludes, "One must imagine Sisyphus happy." I never understood that essay, but I think I do now. There is a certain freedom in resigning myself to the understanding that my life is just following a script and I know it has a happy ending.