1. Opening Words | A Familiar Question
A few years ago, at a family gathering, the conversation turned to life in the old days versus today. My grandmother, who was in her eighties, said with a smile that also carried the sadness of distant days: “Our life was very hard. We had to fetch our water from the alley, buy kerosene for the heater from the shop at the corner of the street. Winters were so cold that we shivered under our blankets. But…” She paused and then said: “Those days, we were simple, and it seems our sorrows were simpler too.”
My nephew, who had just entered university, asked with a tone that was both curious and challenging: “Grandma, were you happier, or are we?” My grandmother looked at him, laughed, and said: “I don’t know, dear. I don’t know.”
This simple exchange is precisely the core of the question with which this book begins: Is today’s human happier than in the past? A question that appears simple at first glance, but the deeper we go, the more complex and intricate it becomes. And perhaps the most interesting part of the matter is that this very question, amid a flood of information, statistics, and theories, remains unanswered.
2. Why Is the Answer to This Question Not Simple?
If you ask someone, “Is life better today or in the old days?” they will probably give a quick answer. But if you ask, “Is today’s human happier than a person a hundred years ago?” they will pause. Why? Because both “the past” and “happiness” are complex, multi‑layered concepts.
Let’s start with “the past.” When we speak of the past, which past exactly do we mean? The life of an Iranian farmer in the nineteenth century? A French aristocrat in the Age of Enlightenment? Or a hunter‑gatherer ten thousand years ago? The past was not a uniform, homogeneous period. Humans in every era have had different experiences of life. Perhaps there is no single “past” that can be compared with “today.”
Now let’s turn to “happiness.” This is one of those concepts that everyone thinks they know, but when asked to define it, they get stuck. Moral philosophers have debated the definition of happiness for centuries and have still not reached a final agreement. Aristotle said happiness means “well‑being,” which is different from pleasure or wealth. Epicurus said happiness means peace of mind and freedom from pain. John Stuart Mill defined happiness as “pleasure and the absence of pain.” But each of these definitions captures part of the truth and leaves out another.
And a third question, perhaps more important than all: Is happiness an inner feeling or an objective state? A person living in extreme poverty but with inner peace – are they happy? A wealthy person with anxiety – are they unhappy? Can happiness be measured at all? If yes, by what standard?
When we see these complexities, we realise that the question of whether today’s human is happier than in the past is not a simple question. It is a naive question. And precisely this apparent simplicity makes it one of the most important and difficult questions of our age.
3. What Has Undoubtedly Improved
If we take only material conditions as our criterion, perhaps the answer becomes clear quite quickly. Few people would be willing to trade today’s medicine for that of two hundred years ago, or today’s communications for a time when delivering a letter took weeks. From this perspective, there is no doubt that the world has become a better place to live in many respects.
Life expectancy has nearly doubled in the last hundred years. At the beginning of the twentieth century, average human life expectancy in many parts of the world was about forty years. Today, that figure has reached over seventy‑two years. That means a person today has almost twice the lifespan of their great‑grandparent a century ago. This is not just a number; it means the opportunity to see grandchildren, to experience old age, to continue education, work, and love in one’s sixties and seventies.
Child mortality has also dropped dramatically. A hundred years ago, three or four out of every ten children died before the age of five. Today, in many countries, that number has fallen to less than one in ten. That means mothers today experience the bitter taste of losing a child far less than mothers in the past.
Medicine has undergone an unprecedented transformation. Diseases that were death sentences a hundred years ago—such as tuberculosis, cholera, typhoid, and even pneumonia—are now treated with a course of antibiotics or a simple vaccine. Complex surgeries that were once impossible are now routine.
Technology and communications have also revolutionised human life. With a small phone, we can connect with any point on the planet at any time. Vast libraries with millions of volumes have been compressed into a small device.
Education has also expanded at an unprecedented rate. Global literacy has risen from about 20 per cent at the start of the twentieth century to over 85 per cent. Children today, in many parts of the world, go to school and have the opportunity to learn—an opportunity that was an unattainable dream for millions of children a hundred years ago.
Pause
Sometimes we become so accustomed to the amenities we have today that we forget that many of our ancestors’ dreams have become our everyday realities. Perhaps before complaining about our dissatisfaction, we need to pause and think: if we had been born in another time, what things would we be deprived of today that we are not even aware of? This reflection is not to deny today’s problems, but to see a fuller picture.
If we judge by these objective indicators alone, the answer to the question “Is today’s human happier?” is largely positive. But is that the end of the story?
4. So Why Is There Still Dissatisfaction?
Right in the heart of these astonishing advances, a worrying phenomenon is taking shape. Statistics show that despite a dramatic increase in material amenities, feelings of dissatisfaction, anxiety, and loneliness are on the rise in many modern societies. How is it possible that with all this progress, there is so much dissatisfaction?
Anxiety, as one of the most common mental disorders of our age, has reached a level that some experts have called the twenty‑first century the “Age of Anxiety.” Global statistics show that anxiety rates in many countries have multiplied several times over the past fifty years.
Depression is also recognised as one of the leading causes of disability worldwide. The World Health Organization has identified depression as the second leading cause of disability globally and predicts that by 2030 it will become the first. This means that millions of people, while living in the best material conditions, are psychologically trapped in a deep crisis.
Loneliness, once seen as a problem mainly for the elderly, has now become a global epidemic. In societies that have never had so many means of communication, more people are feeling lonely. A recent study in the United States found that more than half of adults experience significant loneliness.
Burnout has also become a familiar term in modern life. Unrelenting work pressure, endless competition, and the need to be “always online” have pushed many people to the brink of complete exhaustion. We are no longer just tired; we are burned out.
The feeling of emptiness is perhaps the deepest and most complex expression of today’s dissatisfaction. Many people, despite having everything that is supposed to bring happiness—money, health, good family relationships, a decent job—feel that “something is missing.” A void. A vague meaninglessness. Something they cannot name, but clearly feel.
Social comparison, which has reached its peak in the age of social media, is another major cause of dissatisfaction. We constantly compare our lives with the lives of others—and usually, we lose.
These phenomena form an obvious paradox: we have never been so comfortable, but we have never been so dissatisfied. This paradox, which Zygmunt Bauman described so well, is the core of the crisis that this book seeks to understand. But it is still too early to conclude. Perhaps the answer lies elsewhere.
5. Does Happiness Depend Only on Material Amenities?
Let’s do a simple thought experiment. Imagine that tomorrow, all your material amenities doubled. Your salary increased, you got a bigger house, a better car. Would the answer to the question “Why don’t I enjoy life?” be found? Or would the same feeling of emptiness, dressed in new clothes, come back to you?
The answer to this question is not unanimous across the various disciplines of the humanities. But there is a common thread in all these perspectives: happiness does not depend only on material conditions.
Psychology, especially positive psychology, emphasises that happiness depends more on inner state and attitude than on external conditions. Martin Seligman, the founder of positive psychology, believes that lasting happiness consists of three elements: pleasure (momentary positive emotions), engagement (immersion in meaningful activities), and meaning (serving something beyond oneself). In his view, today’s human being, more than anything, needs meaning—something that has become scarce in modern life.
Psychological research has shown that personal factors such as personality, life perspective, and coping strategies have a much greater impact on happiness than external factors such as wealth or social status. That is, two people with identical financial circumstances can have completely different experiences of happiness.
Economics also offers interesting findings in this area. The most famous is the Easterlin paradox. Richard Easterlin, an American economist, showed in the 1970s that an increase in national income does not automatically lead to an increase in life satisfaction. When a country becomes wealthier, its people do not necessarily become happier.
This finding, later confirmed by numerous other studies, shows that wealth is correlated with happiness only up to a certain point (usually the point where basic needs are met). Beyond that, increased income has a negligible effect on life satisfaction.
Sociology looks at the issue from another angle. Sociologists such as Émile Durkheim and Robert Merton have shown that “anomie,” or social normlessness, is a major factor in dissatisfaction and suicide in modern societies. When traditional norms and values give way to moral chaos, people become confused and do not know what to live for.
Hartmut Rosa, a contemporary German sociologist, has proposed the theory of “social acceleration.” In his view, modern life has become so fast that people do not have the chance to connect with themselves and the world around them. This relentless acceleration alienates us from ourselves. The faster we go, the more we feel left behind. The more we consume, the more we feel something is missing.
And philosophy looks at the issue from a more fundamental angle. Moral philosophers have thought for centuries about what constitutes “the good life.” The answers are diverse and sometimes contradictory: from pleasure (Epicureanism) to virtue (Stoicism), from meaning (Aristotle) to satisfaction (utilitarianism). But a common thread runs through all these views: happiness is not a passive, receptive state; it is an active, dynamic activity. A happy person is not just someone who feels good, but someone who is “living well”—using their talents, creating value for themselves and others, and moving along a path of growth and transcendence.
These perspectives, each from their own angle, are bumping into the same wall: that “more” does not always mean “better.” That linear progress does not bring linear happiness. That today’s human, with all they have, has lost something whose name they may not yet know.
6. Perhaps the Problem Lies in Our Definition of Happiness
By now, we may have concluded that the problem is not a lack of amenities, but our definition of happiness. Perhaps we have defined “happiness” wrongly, and after achieving our mistaken goals, we wonder why we are still not happy.
Let’s clarify this with a simple example. If we define “happiness” merely as “feeling good,” then today’s human, despite abundant amenities, will still be unhappy. Because feeling good is fleeting and unstable. It depends on circumstances. Any moment, bad news, stress, or failure can destroy it. We are chasing an elusive target that slips away every time we think we have caught it.
But if we define “happiness” as “a life worth living”—a life that has meaning, purpose, and is on a path of growth and transcendence—then today’s human must think above all about the quality of life, not just the quantity of amenities. They must ask: “Is my life worth living? Is what I do meaningful to me? Are my relationships truly deep and intimate?”
If we define “happiness” as “satisfaction,” our problem still does not disappear. Because satisfaction depends not only on the fulfilment of desires. People can achieve their desires and still feel dissatisfied. Why? Because desires are endless. When we fulfil one desire, a new one takes its place. And this cycle never ends.
And if we define “happiness” as “meaning”—a life connected to something greater than oneself—then today’s human is grappling with a crisis of meaning. In a world where God, tradition, society, and lofty goals have faded, where can meaning come from? In a world where everything is measured by quantitative and material standards, how can meaning come alive?
These different definitions each raise new questions. And these new questions are precisely what guide us to the following chapters.
7. An Unfinished Conversation
Let’s return to the beginning of this chapter. My grandmother, when my nephew asked her, “Were you happier or are we?” did not give a definitive answer. She said, “I don’t know.” Perhaps she, without any philosophical or sociological study, had grasped the depth of this question. Perhaps she knew that comparing the happiness of two generations is not a simple comparison.
In this chapter, we have seen that today’s human, materially, is living in the best conditions in history. More amenities, better health, longer life, and unprecedented access to information. But at the same time, they are struggling with crises such as anxiety, depression, loneliness, burnout, and feelings of emptiness.
We have seen that happiness depends on multiple factors: psychological, economic, social, and philosophical. And perhaps most importantly, we have seen that the problem may lie in our definition of happiness itself. We do not know exactly what we want from happiness. That is why, no matter what we achieve, we still feel a sense of lack.
Perhaps today’s human lives better in many ways. But we still do not know whether “living better” means “living happier.” And perhaps more importantly, we do not know what “living well” actually means.
Now perhaps we can pose the next question more naturally: If we cannot even agree on whether we are happier, how should we define “a life worth living”? And more importantly, why, despite unprecedented progress, has dissatisfaction become so widespread?
The next chapter is devoted to this very question: The Paradox of Progress and Dissatisfaction. There, we will examine more closely this strange contradiction: how is it possible that with unprecedented material progress, dissatisfaction is more widespread than ever? Is this dissatisfaction an “illness” or a “signal”? Does it show that we have taken the wrong path?
Perhaps we still cannot say whether today’s human is happier than in the past. But now a more important question lies before us:
If happiness cannot be measured only by amenities, then by what should it be measured?
For Those Who Want to Go Deeper
1. Do “material progress” and “moral progress” happen simultaneously? Is today’s human being morally better than a person a hundred years ago?
2. Is “happiness” a universal concept, or is it dependent on different cultures? Can we speak of “Iranian happiness” or “Western happiness”?
3. Could today’s “dissatisfaction” be not a flaw, but an “engine of progress”? That is, are humans inherently designed never to be satisfied, so they keep moving forward?
4. Is happiness a “goal” or a “path”? Should we arrive at happiness, or live on the path of happiness?
5. Does the “memory of the past” play a role in answering this question? Do we idealise the past and forget its hardships?
Related Sources
Freud, Sigmund. *Civilization and Its Discontents*. (Persian translation by Omid Mehrgan). Niloufar Publications. pp. 45–78.
Norberg, Johan. *Progress: Myth or Reality?* (Persian translation by Mohammad Reza Esmaeili). Novin Publications. pp. 112–140.
Layard, Richard. *Why Are We Unhappy? The New Psychology of Satisfaction*. (Persian translation by Sara Hosseini). Rushd Publications. pp. 89–110.
Tabatabaei, Seyed Javad. “Modernity and the Crisis of Meaning.” *Quarterly Journal of Social Sciences*, No. 4, 2005. pp. 23–45.
Pause
Perhaps the issue is not whether today’s human is happier than in the past. Perhaps the issue is that we still do not know exactly what we want from happiness. As long as the meaning of happiness is unclear, comparing past and present is more like comparing two maps with two different destinations. One map shows the path to “pleasure,” the other the path to “meaning.” Which one is the right way?
Perhaps today’s human, more than anything, needs to “pause.” Not in the sense of standing still, but in the sense of “taking a moment.” A pause that allows us to step back from the relentless speed of life and ask: “Is this the life I want? Is this road taking me somewhere I value?”
Perhaps happiness is not a “destination” we must reach. Perhaps happiness is a “path.” A path on which, every now and then, we stop and smell the flowers along the way. And perhaps the greatest mistake of modern human beings has been to value speed so much that they forgot to ask: “Where are we going, and why?”
