We are almost conditioned, it seems to me, to believe that earning more money or owning more, bigger or flashier possessions will make us happier.

Now don't get me wrong, I'm not about to suggest that true, desperate poverty (which I've never really experienced) is probably bloody miserable. There have been some OTF posters in the past who have spelt out in no uncertain terms how living from hand-to-mouth in their own lives led to crushing depression and I'm sure that's true. However, even in some of those tales, you can find some affirmation that "measure a man's wealth not by the things life brings him but by the joy he takes from life" is true.

I'm very "comfortable", at present, thanks for asking. I'm not rich, by any means - my holidays in 2010 will constitute trips to Corfu and Cornwall, not Las Vegas or the Maldives. A pricey night out for me is a £40 meal, not a £400 one. But I think I'm happy. Would I be any happier if I did live in a £5m mansion in Kensington and expected to be waited on by staff? If, this afternoon, I'd have watched the end of the Tour de France sitting in some millionaire's apartment overlooking the Champs d'Elysees, instead of watching it in my house on a 24" telly on ITV4, would I have enjoyed it any more? I'd love to find out, but ... would it? Would I have spent the afternoon grumpily fuming that my yacht wasn't as big as everyone else's?

There are so many "celebrity" tales of vastly rich yet severely depressed people that I wonder if there really is a point at which "more" (wealth) runs out in terms of "more" (happiness)? If you have "enough", and are happy, do you think you can actually end up unhappier by striving for (and maybe even attaining) "more"?

The happiness v wealth spectrum, then

Brilliant!

I think I'd be a lot happier if I could afford to live on my own and not with my parents. And if, heaven forbid, I ever found someone who might want to start a family with me, that I could actually support it.

My job's shit, the town I live in is grim, my car's broken down irreparably, the only thing keeping me up here is the mortgage (stupidest fucking thing I've ever done, buying this house).

However, my job may be shit, but it means I can pay the mortgage and bills comfortably and have the odd night out now and again with no real worries, so really, my concerns are negligible.

But, I'm not happy here. Fortunately, I have no real responsibilities (no kids, no Lady Gambrinus), so I can still get shot of the house, wander round NZ and South America for a bit and then have a think about changing career.

What I'm worried about is turning into the sort of bloke I worked with back home who had been doing the job for twenty years and loathed it, but got stuck with it because they had to look after the kids.

Would I be right in thinking that consumer goods are cheaper relative to accommodation now than they would have been, say, 30 years ago?

At the age of 33, with what I'd consider a relatively well-paid job, I could probably buy a fair amount of useless shit. But I couldn't afford to rent or (god forbid) buy my own flat, and I don't think that's only because I have to live in London to have that job - living costs in a lot of other places aren't that much cheaper, whereas jobs pay a fair bit less.

I guess what I'm saying is, recent times have produced a generation of giant babymen who half-remember too many factoids gleaned from the internet when they should have been working instead.

I think an improvement in material standards can make one somewhat happier, at least in the sense of not having to worry about certain problems that come with poverty, like where your next meal is going to come from, to use an extreme example. But after a certain point, it's probably a matter of diminishing returns. Is a millionaire going to be even happier after he makes a deal that brings in another million? Temporarily, perhaps, but I doubt it will last. Also, a lot of people overspend and get themselves into debt by the same percentage even as their incomes increase, so more money doesn't lead to a more tranquil life for them.

It probably depends on the person, too. I remember reading a study about people who had suffered great misfortunes or good luck (those who had lost limbs in accidents and then those who had won the lottery, I think were the subjects), and they found that after a few years of adjusting to their new lives, they reported the same levels of happiness or unhappiness they had before.

I also read about a study that found that on the whole poor people reported themselves less happy than more affluent people, which isn't a surprise, but that rich people in countries with extreme economic inequality were less happy than rich people in countries with greater economic equality. That seems to suggest that though there is some correlation between wealth and happiness, it's not as straightforward as you might think, and that the fantasies many have about being rich and making their friends, family, and neighbors envious might actually be more a source of misery than joy when they're actually lived out.

I've read that apart from having enough to be comfortable (food, shelter, education and health) that wealth doesn't really matter as far as happiness is concerned. True happiness comes from friendship, family and generally feeling 'involved'.
Rejecton and feeling useless makes you unhappy.
I'm 50 now and having a chat with mates at the pub, or playing with the family make me much happier than I think owning a Porsche or an iphone would.

I think it's very easy for people with middling material wealth (ie own a home with a mortgage, reasonable car, able to support their family and go abroad once a year) to say wealth doesn't equal happiness without necessarily remembering how soul-destroying it is to not be able to stand on your own two feet in life.

Well, there's an income threshold below which life is going to be unpleasant, the respective figure and degree dependent upon personal circumstances and location, but when that point has been exceeded the trick is to keep your finances and expectations in balance. And for many people, the vast majority I'd suggest, achieving that balance is a terrific struggle.

I used to work in an office earning just above the average wage for someone in London, which meant that as a single man I could pretty much jet off to somewhere around the World at least once or twice a year, I could also afford plenty of CDs, DVDs, console games etc, in short, according to most people my life should've been pretty happy.

However, none of this really made me particularly happy and, in fact, this period of my life made me spectacularly unhappy, I had periods of extreme depression and the relationships I had were mostly painful.

I then quit my reasonably well paid job to do stand up full-time, something which I'd been dabbling in for 4-5 years, something which immediately cut my earnings by about 75% (luckily I'd been saving up for a couple of years so that I could make the jump) but increased my happiness by an unquantifiable amount.

Since then I've managed to eke out a living doing stand up and a few writing jobs, moved out of London (a place that I was finding ever more toxic) and met a woman who totally understands me, makes me incredibly happy and who has foolishly agreed to be my wife.

I realize that my experience isn't for everyone, I was lucky in that even in my mid-thirties I had no real commitments, no children, no mortgage, nothing to stop me from doing what I truly wanted to do, but I do think there's a huge amount more to happiness than having money.

That said, I wouldn't say no to being a bit more affluent, not having to worry about chasing people for payment so that I can afford the next month's rent or food bill would be nice.

I'm 50 now and having a chat with mates at the pub, or playing with the family make me much happier than I think owning a Porsche or an iphone would.

How about having a chat about iphones with your mates, in a porsche?

If you can fit all your mates in a porsche, you're definitely not happy with your life.

I may earn way under half the national average, rent a grotty bedsit and have to moonlight to afford to live.

BUT, if the girl I took out for a date on Saturday agrees to go out on a second one with me, then I would be happier than any number of lottery wins would ever make me.

Happiness beats money every time.

I wish I could afford to give up one (or more) of my three jobs. I don't see how not having to do boring work could fail to make people happier.

Actually I really wish I could afford to live a nomadic kind of life (I'm talking buses & trains & youth hostels, nothing luxurious) for months at a time.

Lyra wrote:
Actually I really wish I could afford to live a nomadic kind of life (I'm talking buses & trains & youth hostels, nothing luxurious) for months at a time.

I met a guy somewhere in Europe in '90 who worked for his brother's construction company in New Jersey for three months a year. He'd sleep on people's floors or couches and bank all his money. The other 9 months of the year, he'd backpack around Europe. He'd done this for over 20 years, and he was one of the happiest guys I'd ever bumped into.

Rogin the Armchair Fan wrote:
If you can fit all your mates in a porsche, you're definitely not happy with your life.

You can get quite a few people in a Cayenne.

this also falls into the troublesome catagorization of where people consider someone to be a 'mate'. I have always considered the group of mates I have to be people I would be prepared to discuss pretty much anything with. People I meet up with, chat with, go to the pub or dinner with are not necessarily the same.

Consequently, I reckon the Cayenne would work.

Worn Old Motorbike wrote:
Lyra wrote:
He'd sleep on people's floors or couches and bank all his money. The other 9 months of the year, he'd backpack around Europe.

You mean he'd rely on other people for bed and board and then spend all his money enjoying himself.

Oh, I can't speak to whether he paid room and board or not. But I get your drift. Still, fair play to him.

Give me 2000£ a month and I'll be happy as a pig in a muck. Hell, even 1500£ would do...

In fact, maybe I should try to convince some rich man that sponsoring me with that modest amount in return for nic pics and trip reports of my travels in the hills and mountains of the world would be a goog idea...

I hope that this doesn't read like a collection of cliches.

As many of you will know Mrs. House Cat has been very ill. She will never be truly well again and we have had to come to terms with that. We don't have much money. I have the best health insurance money can buy and I will be in debt for medical expenses if I live to be 800 years old (I worked it out).

Mrs. House Cat and I have learned to find our happiness in the smallest things - pretty sunrises, good company, each other, our pets - because for a time we didn't know if she would see many more days. So we find happiness in every day. A cliche but true.

I have pissed and moaned at length about living in Missouri and some of that is the knowledge of why we had to come here but at least we are together still and I still have my lovely wife. So, we find happiness in cliches. I'll take it.

We plan to move back to New Mexico soon, jobs and doctors willing. We were happy there before and we will be again.

Sermon over.