Mr Muschg, could you tell us a little bit about your background and what you are currently working on?
I have a diverse background in many ways. I’m a writer and worked as a professor of German language and literature at the Swiss Federal Institute of Technology in Zurich for 30 years. I’m Swiss and, as such, European, although I’m sure a lot of people wouldn’t agree with me. Just yesterday I finished writing a text I hope to finalise within the next few weeks.
How do you define happiness and luck, which, combined, roughly translate to the German term ‘Glück’?
The original meaning of ‘Glück’ is derived from what we today refer to as ‘luck’. It’s interesting that we now make a distinction between these two concepts: luck is completely out of your control, which is exactly what differentiates it from happiness, which hinges on the individual. Even in Thomas Jefferson’s Declaration of Independence, he posits that happiness is the basis of life and liberty. And, of course, there is an actual limit to a happy life, and this is death. Even in antique thinking the question of happiness loomed in front of the very basic question of death: what does it mean to be happy? So, the paradox is that you have to be the smith of your own happiness, but the extent of this happiness is not entirely in your own hands.
So, do you believe that happiness is, to an extent, inborn?
I do believe our genes play a role in how happy we are. If someone is limited in vision, it’s much easier for them to be happy. Look at Hamlet, for example: if you look too far and think too much, you are prone to evoke a certain level of melancholy. So yes, some people are, in general terms, born to be luckier than others. However, human beings are still ultimately in control of their own happiness. And this pursuit of happiness borders on wisdom and has nothing to do with the luck of winning the lottery, for example.
Why do you think many people remember childhood as the happiest time in their life?
We remember childhood so fondly because we idealise it. We know very well from Sigmund Freud’s psychoanalysis that childhood is actually a very strenuous part of our life and could be the germ of many of life’s tragedies. Believing that a young creature is naturally happier, luckier, happy-go-lucky, if you will, is a naïve way of thinking. We all know from our own childhood that this is not true. We have never been more lonely or anxious than during childhood and we had no responsibilities at the time. We are the maker of our own tragedies, which serve as both a handicap as well as an opportunity to be happier. In the end, a truly happy childhood is the result of luck: if we are lucky to have good parents, we are more likely to be happy later in life.
Can we be happy without the influence of others?
Well, that’s an interesting question because it is rooted deep down in modern economy. People like John Stewart Nolen believe that you construct your happiness without the influence of others, but this is a narcissistic way of looking at the issue. Although the cities of the modern world have their share of problems, they present so many more opportunities for one to find luck and happiness compared to the countryside, in every country of the world. Everyone’s dreams are inspired by the city. However, in this pursuit of happiness we often overlook the benefits of exploring and being influenced by our roots, whether they be cultural or ethnic, because if you take one’s roots away, the dark side of globalisation turns up. As a result, you meet unhappy people without a home or ‘Heimat’, in German, which can be a sociological as well as a local ‘Heimat’. So no, to put it simply I don’t think we can be totally happy without the influence of others.
So, what is the recipe for happiness?
If you manage to be happy with what you have and even happy with what you are, you are more likely to be a palatable contemporary of your brothers and sisters. This is, of course, sheer heresy in the eyes of consumerism. The promise of happiness is one that advertisements can’t do without. You are constantly promised to be happier with a product only to find out that you don’t need it at all. We eventually realise that the less we consume, quite personally, the happier we are. And recently, consuming less has become a fad that a lot of people make money with, which is a fantastic paradox and points again to the foolishness of the human species.
Julius Baer is a proud cosponsor of the Neue Zürcher Zeitung’s panel discussion series, NZZ Podium.