The fact that so many people will have a hard time believing the following statement is proof positive that Gregg Easterbrook, the author of The Progress Paradox, is on to something important. Believe it or not, the standard of living that you and I share is better than almost all the men and women of history. Put more technically: "the men and women at middle-class standards or above in the United States and the European Union now live better than 99.4 percent of the human beings who have ever existed" (80). Indeed, we "live better than most of the royalty of history" (80).

For essentially all of human history until the last few generations, the typical person's lot has been unceasing toil, meager living circumstances, uncertainty about food, rudimentary health care, limited education, little travel or entertainment; all followed by early death. (Keep in mind these remain the conditions under which more than a billion people live in the developing world today.) (82)

In almost every aspect of human existence, we live better than our ancestors. We have easy and constant access to a vast variety of foods at affordable prices. Our average lifespan has almost doubled since the beginning of the 20th century (77 compared to 41 years). Historic diseases such as polio, smallpox, measles, and rickets have been defeated. Our houses are double the size of the past generation with heat and air condition that was considered a luxury by our grandparents. Most of us have health insurance - another luxury our grandparents didn't possess. The "jet set", a term that once described people of rare affluence, now describes 200 million Americans who regularly travel the airways. Crime is down, our environment is cleaner, we are more educated, and we experience greater equality.

People who speak of a "Golden Age" in the past have failed to accurately assess both the past and the present. Easterbrook calls this "the fallacy of the Golden Age":

Americans speak of the 1950s as a Golden Age, a time of affordable life and a simpler, unsullied ethos. Yet in real dollars almost everything costs less today than it did then, health care is light-years better, three times as many people now make it to college, and the simple, more innocent ethos of the 1950s denied the vote to blacks and job opportunities to women. (78)

The Golden Age is not in the past but in the present. We are living in it!

If this is the case (and all the statistics point in this direction), why then do most Americans feel that things are steadily getting worse rather than better? Gregg Easterbrook labels this strange phenomenon, "the progress paradox": "though most things are getting better for most people, on the whole we don't feel any better about it" (253).

Why? Easterbrook argues that we Americans have "an active preference for bad news" (99). This taste for negativity is reinforced by our media diet. "Western life is methodically made to sound perilous or precarious by media spin, which emphasizes the negative aspects of developments while downplaying the positive" (108). For example, "45 percent of crimes reported in the media involve sex or violence, though only 3 percent of all crimes involve sex or violence" (113).

Our anxiety is amplified is by means of a constant stream of news stories that make a big deal about small risks. By focusing on these relatively unlikely risks, we forget that the big risks (such as smallpox, infant mortality, etc.) are in decline. "Instead of realizing this, we feel under siege from ever rising tides of very small dangers" (111).

However, it is not all the fault of the media. We humans are quite proficient at complaining even when things are good.

[H]uman beings as a group are really good at complaining. We complain to our parents for bringing us into the world; complain to our teachers for educating us; complain to our bosses for employing us; complain to the merchants who feed and clothe us; complain to the lovers and spouses who embrace us; complain to the children we summon to join us; complain to the Maker for starting the world in which all this happens. About many things, especially injustice, we should complain. But we practice complaining so much, and on such minor issues, that we become too proficient: And then complain more, if only because we are confident we are good at it. Expressing gratitude or appreciation does not come easily to us because we practice it so little. (118)

Our addiction to complaining frees us from having to be grateful for the good things we possess.

If times are tough, or others are being unfair or unkind, or you've just had some unpleasant news, or you wanted something and didn't get it, or you loved someone and were not loved in turn, or some other source of complaint is in evidence, clearance is given to feel sorry for yourself. When you're feeling sorry for yourself, you don't expect to help others or show them kindness, or to do important things, or even just to stop and smell the flowers. When you've got a grievance against the world, all the pressure is off. (120)

One thing that fuels our complaints is the "blurring of needs and wants" which leads to the "tyranny of the unnecessary" (136). Failure to distinguish between wants and needs leads to endless dissatisfaction and frustration. "Once focused on wants our thoughts can never be at peace, because wants can never be satisfied; not even a billionaire will ever have everything" (137). Our needs can be satisfied, but our wants are rarely satisfied.

A person needs food, clothing, shelter, medical care, education, and transportation; once attained, these needs are fulfilled. Wants, by contrast, can never be satisfied. The more you want, the more likely you are to feel disgruntled; the more you acquire, the more likely you are to feel controlled by your own possessions. (171)

Focusing on our wants leaves us dissatisfied even when our needs are met. It is impossible to be grateful when we constantly want more and want it better than before.

Our ingratitude is tragic when we consider that 1.2 billion people in the world currently live on about $1 a day (282). They barely survive while we thrive. We have it so good yet we feel so bad! Obviously, this proves that money does not buy happiness. And yet, even if we are not happy with all the good things we possess, we should do all we can to alleviate the suffering of those less fortunate than us. Since we know possessions do not bring happiness, simplifying our lives so that we can better give to others, just makes sense. Perhaps in the process of giving, we may find the happiness that eludes us.

© Richard J. Vincent, 2005