I previously discussed Aristotle’s concept of eudaimonia, the happiness which accompanies the good life and is different from pleasure (hedonia). A psychologist who has paid considerable attention to the distinction between the two is Alan S. Waterman, who is on the faculty of the College of New Jersey. I ran across a comment by him in the September, 2007 American Psychologist (pages 612-613). His comment is in response to an article on the hedonic treadmill, which is the theory that we humans have a set point of happiness to which we revert. Per the theory, our happiness isn’t permanently enhanced if a winning lottery ticket suddenly makes us rich or the girl (or guy) of our dreams consents to marry us. Similarly, we don’t experience lasting sadness from having our house burn down or being diagnosed with malaria. After a blip up or down in our degree of personal satisfaction, we will soon revert to our set point and be no more or less happy than we were to start out.
Waterman thinks that the hedonic treadmill doesn’t apply well to eudaimonia. He claims that there is a separate eudaimonic treadmill, which can become a eudaimonic staircase, whereas the hedonic treadmill always stays a treadmill. I’ll explain what he means after I discuss his definition of eudaimonia.
Waterman claims that the good life that eudaimonia accompanies is “excellence in the pursuit of fulfillment of personal potentials in ways that further an individual’s purposes in living.” That’s not the same as Aristotle’s concept, because the element of virtue is lacking. Would I experience eudaimonia if I managed to fulfill my potential to dominate and humiliate others whenever I had the chance? If that was my goal in life and I got really good at it, I’ve met Waterman’s criterion, but I sure haven’t satisfied Aristotle’s.
Despite the problem with his definition, Waterman’s argument about the treadmill is interesting. He relates the achievements of eudiamonia to psychologist Mihály Csíkszentmihályi’s concept of flow. Flow occurs when the challenges of an activity are closely matched to one’s level of ability. Thus, when I started studying Biblical Greek last fall, I found the first set of translation exercises were somewhat beyond my capacity, but after a little practice my ability matched the exercises and I experienced flow. According to Waterman, at that point I was also experiencing an enhanced sense of eudaimonia. The state didn’t last, though, because eventually my skill level exceeded the demands made by that set of exercises, and what once was challenging became boring. That’s the eudaimonic treadmill; I reverted to my previous level of well-being.
However, I didn’t have to stay in a eudaimonic fixed state. I could and did increase the level of challenge by going to a harder set of exercises. I thus restored a sense of flow and again enhanced my sense of eudaimonia. The process can be ongoing; the person always seeks new challenges and thereby achieves more and more of his or her potential. This, says Waterman, is the eudaimonic staircase.
Eudiamonic? Hedonic? Or just wooden?
Though I’m fascinated by the argument, I have some questions. First, returning to the difference between Waterman and Aristotle, do all forms of flow qualify? If I continually enhance my personal potential to be a superior auto thief or street fighter, am I just as likely to experience eudaimonia as if I’m enhancing my potential for generosity or compassion? Some ways of fulfilling my potential don’t seem advisable to pursue, even if they make me happy. Second, why can’t someone use the same procedure with hedonia as Waterman does with eudaimonia, that is, seek ever greater pleasures and thus turn the hedonic treadmill into a hedonic staircase? Waterman seems to think that this procedure works only for eudiamonia, but he doesn’t give any reason why it would work in the one case but not in the other. The article to which he was responding (and which I previously discussed here) actually argues that the hedonic treadmill isn’t universal and there are ways to increase one’s hedonia. Even if Waterman is wrong and always raising the bar works just as well with hedonia as with eudaimonia, the prospect of living in a society in which everyone is constantly seeking more pleasure doesn’t seem nearly as appealing as does a society in which everyone is seeking eudaimonia via striving for excellence. Faced with two staircases to happiness, society may be better off if people head up the eudiamonic one.
Life Assays 
January 26, 2009 at 2:32 am
Hey Bob!
Thanks for introducing me to eudaimonia – a state which I was blissfully unaware of previous to reading your blog, even though I happily reside there!
I see self-esteem/ego as one of the critical factors of our happiness – not only personally, but culturally. I feel self esteem would be the main difference between hedonia and eudaimonia. A person with healthy self esteem would strive for excellence rather than superiority in unsavoury activities. Is this too simplistic a view?
January 26, 2009 at 10:41 pm
Jacqueline,
Thanks for your comment. It’s great that you are in a state of eudiamonia!
There is definitely a connection between self-esteem and happiness. You’re right to point out that someone who has high self-esteem is more likely than someone with low self-esteem to have the sense of fulfillment and completeness that is characteristic of eudiamonia. Feelings about ourselves can be rather complex, though. Some people evaluate themselves overly positively and feel threatened by the prospect of having their opinion of themselves disconfirmed (social psychologists call this “unstable high self-esteem”). Such people are not all that happy and devote their energies to building defenses rather than striving for excellence. Conversely, some people with relatively low evaluations of themselves (thus low self-esteem) nonetheless have a sense of self-worth and corresponding positive moods. I suspect that they would be likely to experience eudiamonia. Psychologist Kristin Neff has developed something called the “Self-Compassion Scale” to measure the sort of attitudes that such people have about themselves. If you’re interested, you can get a copy by typing her name or the scale name in a search engine.
February 5, 2009 at 1:40 am
We’re reading Goethe’s Faust in my World Lit class, and this distinction is interestingly relevant. Faust alters the bargain with the devil, rejecting the standard devil-my-servant-in-this-life-me-his-servant-in-the-next contract. He says that when he finally feels happy and satisfied, when he says, “stay” to one moment, then the Devil can take his life. The devil seems to think Faust is looking for hedonia, and takes him to a bar, where wackiness ensues. The devil doesn’t get it — Faust is looking for the top of the eudiamonic staircase.
One of the (many) odd things in the play is the prologue in heaven, where the Lord praises Faust because of his perpetual drive to improve himself. Faust is presented as a good example of a human being, not because he follows a set of behavioral prescriptions or restrictions, but because he continually strives to be a full and complete human being. It sounds a lot like Waterman’s eudiamonia.
February 6, 2009 at 9:35 pm
Kelly,
I’ve never read Goethe’s Faust; your comment piques my interest, though, so maybe I’ll put it on my reading list. Faust does seem to be after eudiamonia. His desire to find a moment to which he can say “stay” (and presumably be willing to remain in that moment forever) reminds me of Neitzsche’s concept of eternal recurrence. I think he uses the term in a couple of different ways; the one that is relevant here is that one accept or will that everything (including one’s life) be repeated endlessly. This would entail not finding just a moment for which eternal recurrence is willed, but to live one’s life so that one could will that all of it be repeated again and again. As I understand it, this concept was an alternative for him to the desire of some Christians to prefer the afterlife to this life.
February 7, 2009 at 2:26 am
Interesting: in Faust, finding this moment is presented as a failure to live up to what is best in human nature. The striving is what is positive, more than the achievement.