by Ed Diener
If Americans are a society known for our relentless positivity, then the Maasai's favorite emotion is pride. The Maasai tend to be a courageous people with a unique history, and they have much about which to be proud. Their creation myth shows a kind of favoritism common to many world religions, in which their god Ngai gave the Maasai all the cattle in the world for their keeping. (Sorry, dairy farmers in Switzerland and Wisconsin, your cows are on loan from the Maasai.) The Maasai resisted incursions by the British into their territory during the long years of European colonization, despite their obvious military disadvantage. In fact, even today, some Maasai, armed only with primitive spears and bows, execute daring nighttime cattle raids across the Kenyan-Tanzanian border, against tribes wielding modern automatic guns.
The Maasai culture is also one of pain tolerance. They practice ritual branding and adolescent circumcision. After the healing period following the circumcision ceremony, most teenage boys join a group of morani, or warriors, the Maasai equivalent to the National Guard. As part of their initiation ritual, the boys head into the bush and fight and kill a lion - with spears, knives, and arrows! Compare that with the rites of passage in industrialized societies - obtaining a driver's license, getting a part-time job, or moving out of mom and dad's house.
We witnessed a stunning display of bravery firsthand. During our research in East Africa, Robert had occasion to attend the circumcision of a 15-year-old boy. On the day of the joyous event, following an age-old custom, the boy went down to the river to wash himself. A half hour later, he returned to the village, wrapped in a brown cow skin decorated with lines of beads. As he drew near, he went into a trance and collapsed on the ground. The women, who stood at the edge of the cattle corral where the ceremony was to take place, screamed and cried and trilled their tongues in a high wail. The men rushed and picked up the boy and laid him on a dried cow skin in the middle of the empty corral. The collective emotion in the air was palpable. The boy appeared limp and unconscious except for the rapid rising and falling of his chest. The men of the village crowded around while his foreskin was systematically cut and peeled from his body with what appeared to be an old steak knife, while he appeared to peacefully rest on the ground. It was surreal. With blood everywhere, we were much more traumatized than the young man. Later on, the boy's father beamed. He confessed that he was extremely proud of his son for being so brave, and that bravery reflected well on the entire family.
There were many cultural differences that made conducting research with the Maasai an uphill battle. When we first arrived in the field, with our clipboards and ready ideas about happiness, the Maasai were largely uninterested. As a tribal people living in a traditional manner, they don't have a lot of time to rate satisfaction with their morality on a one-to-seven scale. Instead, their hours are full of cattle herding, home repairs, cooking, and socializing. To them, we were a naive folk who lacked any of the basic skills they valued. We could not herd, protect ourselves from predators, build a house, or haggle effectively. The first Maasai we contacted spent more time looking at themselves in the side-view mirror of our car than at our happy-face scales.
One day, early in the research, Robert had the idea that if we participated in activities they valued, the Maasai would pay more attention to us. Not only would we bond through shared experiences, but the Maasai might think better of us. We asked if we could join them for a lion hunt, and they nearly laughed us off the savannah. The idea of mazungus stumbling through the bush and trying to figure out how, exactly, to throw a heavy spear while a lion attacks was almost too much for them to bear. After each person in the village took turns making funny comments about us participating in a lion hunt, our translator summed the situation up: "It would be a very good day for the lion."
A few days later, when a group of warriors visited the village, Robert admired the raised scar on the arm of one of the leaders. Many Maasai men and women have a random assortment of scars and burns, another sign of bravery. Robert casually asked if he, too, could be branded in a pain-tolerance ritual. The young warrior smiled and agreed, perhaps trying to call his bluff, and set about making a fire. When the moran was sufficiently pleased with the amber glow at the end of his stick, he commanded Robert to take off his shirt. The villagers crowded around and cheered as Robert was branded on his chest over and over in the same spot to make sure the wound was substantial enough to create a scar. When one spot was completed, the warrior moved the burning stick to a second and then a third site, wanting to test whether the bravery persisted even after full knowledge of the pain. In the end, Robert was burned a total of eight times. Although he did not manage the brave face that a Maasai might, neither did he scream out or flee. The ceremony definitely endeared us to the Maasai in the region. In the weeks after that episode, Maasai from other villages came to participate in the research, eager to see the burns and talk to the brave foreigner.
These stories of branding, lion hunting, and circumcising illustrate a point about one way culture can influence happiness. These episodes show how the Maasai, like everyone else, pay attention to the things they value and don't put too much stock in the things they don't. Because they are a culture of courage, honor, and pride, the Maasai spend time paying attention to personal achievements that speak well of them or reflect well on their families. They do not need expensive watches, private planes, a house in the Hamptons, or the material trappings of a modern world to achieve status and enjoy themselves. Instead, they find pleasure and status in the world that is available to them - in lion hunts, cooking, family relations, singing in the evenings, and pain rituals. This might, in part, explain their high happiness scores. They create goals and activities for themselves that are valued within their culture and that can be achieved. What's more, many of the Maasai's goals serve the purpose of enhancing their self-image and leave them feeling good, as well as preparing them mentally for life on the savannah.
Choosing Happiness
The value placed on feeling happy varies across cultures. Asians, on average, are more likely than their Western counterparts to make decisions based on factors other than happiness. For example, they are more likely to sacrifice short-term happiness in exchange for longterm mastery. Practicing scales on the piano today can be seen as a necessary evil en route to virtuoso playing later on. A clever study by Shigehiro Oishi sheds light on the ways culture can affect choices that, in turn, affect happiness.
Research participants arrived for Oishi's study and were asked to shoot some baskets in a miniature basketball hoop mounted on a door. Afterward, they were asked to complete various emotion questionnaires, and told to come back in a week. Oishi, originally from Japan, is particularly interested in cultural differences in happiness between East Asians and North Americans, and the participants in this study came from one or the other of these two groups. A week later, when the research subjects returned to the laboratory, Oishi gave them a choice: they could shoot baskets again, or they could opt for a new activity - throwing darts. Once again, they were asked to complete some surveys, and dismissed from the study. Unbeknownst to the participants, Oishi and his colleagues kept track of how many baskets each person made, and how many they missed.
In the basketball study, Oishi discovered an interesting pattern of cultural differences between Asians and Americans. Most of the Asians who performed well the first week, successfully making many baskets, chose to move on to darts the second week. The Asians who performed poorly at hoops chose to stick with basketball again the second week, in hopes of mastering the skill. If they did well at hoops, they could move on to master a new task. The North Americans, by contrast, chose to stick with basketball if they scored many baskets on week one. They wanted to do well again. If they performed poorly the first time, they opted for darts the second week, perhaps hoping a new activity might bring better luck and more fun. And although the two groups were equally happy during the first round, the Americans enjoyed their task more during the second, because those who did
poorly in the first week felt free to choose a new task. According to Oishi, this pattern suggests underlying cultural values: Asians tend to seek mastery first, while Americans have a greater tendency to favor fun and feeling good.
Different Activities for Happiness
Not only do the feelings of happiness vary across cultures, but factors that create happiness vary as well. For instance, Ed Diener and Marissa Diener published a study in 1995 in which they demonstrated that self-esteem is much more important to life satisfaction in some cultures - the most individualistic ones - than in others. Similarly, the Korean professor Eunkook Suh found that Americans use positive emotions more in deciding how satisfied they are, whereas in Korea people tend to rely more heavily on the appraisals of others, and that the activities that lead to happiness also sometimes differ across cultures.
A personal anecdote should shed light on how this pans out in the real world. From the travel journal of Robert Biswas-Diener, Greenland, 2002:
For five weeks, our research team hunkered down in the cramped weather station overlooking the sea full of airport-sized icebergs and distant islands with rugged cliffs. The sun never set while we were there, and we saw children playing outside at eight in the morning and eleven at night. During the daytime hours, we invited people to talk with us and fill out happiness questionnaires, and during the nighttime hours we tried to avoid the fistfights and howling dogs that plagued the dirt tracks that served as streets. At first, life in Qaanaaq appeared hard, full of difficult labor, strife, and a hostile environment. The locals continued to reassure us that life was pleasant, slow, and meaningful. The Inughuit appeared to be the most happy when they were engaged in traditional activities, such as hunting and fishing. They even recommended we return in the dark and chilly months of winter, when the hunting was at its best. It seemed difficult to imagine fun, meaning, and happiness in such a cold, remote place.
But then we had an experience like the one the hunters described. We were finally exposed to the hidden pleasures of Arctic life. On a research foray to Siorapaluk - the northernmost community in the world - we had the opportunity to hunt for our own dinner. Hunters, farmers, and even gardeners can probably attest to how rewarding it feels to obtain your own food, but as lifelong grocery-store patrons, we had no idea. We took nets mounted on long poles and hiked into the hills outside of town. There, perched high on the scree-strewn cliffs, we hid among the boulders and waited. We anticipated the black and white auks, which flew in enormous flocks and frequently swooped close to the cliffs. Every few minutes, the thunderous drumbeat of wings came closer and thousands of birds would pass within a few meters of the rocks that concealed us. Time and again, we snapped our nets quickly into the air in the hopes of scooping an auk. We missed, laughed, and waited for another chance. We took turns with the net, seeing who might capture the most birds. It was exciting, challenging, and fun, and it was clear that there was much to enjoy in the hunting life.
After two hours, we had succeeded in catching one bird each and began to descend toward the village, toward warmth, and to dinner. We bounded down the slopes, charged with testosterone and the pride of a successful hunt. We carried our birds, like trophies, by their feet. We had used human ingenuity to snatch these animals from the air. We must have been as large as icebergs by the time we reached the edge of town. There, on the outskirts of the settlement, two children saw our catch and their jaws dropped open. We could only imagine how impressed they were to see these two foreigners, first-time hunters, come back from their successful hunt. Then, the kids started laughing. And they did not stop. Our high spirits fell some, and we continued on toward town.
As we crossed streaming glacial meltwater, we came across a local hunter, a man whom we knew from the happiness interviews and who happened to speak English. "Good!" he smiled, and gave us the thumbs-up. It felt great to be acknowledged, one hunter to another. "Be honest," we asked, "how many auks have you caught in a single day?" We knew he would have caught more than our two, of course. He thought for a moment about his answer and smiled again, shaking his head. When we prodded him he confessed, "Seven hundred." I was embarrassed, but learned a valuable lesson. Catching auks could make this Inughuit gentleman happy for many reasons - because of the pride and respect it afforded, the food for himself and his family it provided, and the enjoyment of flow created by this challenging activity at which one can continually improve with practice. For me, auk hunting was also a happy experience, if a humbling one.
Different Definitions of Feeling Happy
It turns out that people the world over experience happiness as a pleasurable and desirable state. Certain cultures, however, appear to value different aspect of happiness. As mentioned earlier, Americans tend to view happiness as an upbeat and energetic emotion, and value the high-arousal components of happiness. People in India and China, by contrast, view happiness as a state of peace and harmony, and tend to value the low-arousal aspects of happiness. How do we know this?
The Stanford psychologist Jeanne Tsai and her colleagues examined children's books in both the United States and Taiwan to see if there were differences in the way emotions were depicted. The research team analyzed the ten bestselling storybooks for preschoolers in both nations from the beginning of 2005, and another ten books that topped the bestseller list at the end of the year. They created scores for the activity levels shown in the books, how big the smiles were, and the presence or absence of other facial expressions. Tsai found that the American books generally depicted more exciting activities and more exuberant positive emotions. When queried, American preschoolers preferred the excited states, and perceived them as happier, compared to the Taiwanese preschoolers. What's more, when children were exposed to the American books, they then preferred to engage in more exciting activities themselves, whereas children shown the relatively calmer Taiwanese books focused on calmer activities.
In another study, Tsai found that ancient Christian classical texts emphasized high-arousal positive emotions, while Buddhist texts emphasized low-arousal pleasant feelings. Following from this, the researchers found that bestselling modern Christian self-help books emphasize more aroused emotions and that Buddhist self-help books emphasize calm and contentment. Thus, for people in Asian cultures, "happiness" means calm and controlled, whereas for Americans it is more likely to mean excited and joyful, and these differences seem to be socialized from early in life. The types of feelings and activities that are most valued differ in various cultures, and different people may find one or the other approach to happiness more attractive.
Conclusions
In an increasingly globalized world, we are left to wonder about the nature of cultural differences and similarities. Are societies growing more homogeneous, with international businesses as likely to crop up in Kansas City as Kandahar? How might cultures differ where happiness is concerned? Research from the science of happiness shows us that there are some important cultural universals in well-being, as well as some fascinating differences. Understanding what these are can help you set realistic expectations for your own happiness, and help you benefit from the wisdom of people in other cultures.
Perhaps the most consistent finding in well-being research is that most people are mildly happy, except where poverty and disruption are extreme. Rich people and poor people can both be happy, as can Canadians and Serbians, high school graduates and illiterate people. In study after study, using large samples from the far ends of the earth, the majority of people report that they are, on the whole, mildly happy, except for those who live in terrible conditions. This makes sense because happiness can give us a boost of energy and friendliness that we need to function effectively in families, at work, and in society. Not only are most people happy, but most people think that being happy is desirable, and that the experience of happiness itself is pleasurable. It doesn't matter if you live in South Korea or South Carolina: happiness feels good to everyone.
There are other apparent universals in ha
ppiness. Everywhere, people want friends and to be respected by others. Everywhere, people want to be proficient at the activities valued in that culture. In all cultures, people can find pleasure in activities that capture their interest. It is, of course, the specifics of how people achieve flow, respect, and competence that vary dramatically across the globe.
Despite the universals, there are also cultural differences. Although happiness is widely seen as pleasurable, people from different cultures define this feeling in varying ways. Folks from Asian and Pacific Rim cultures are more likely to promote calm happiness, while North Americans are more likely to value upbeat, enthusiastic, and energetic positive emotions. Thus, Asians looking for happiness are generally more likely to seek out calm, harmony-producing activities. Westerners have a tendency to seek out exciting, pleasurable experiences to produce arousing feelings of happiness. Furthermore, the cultural psychologist Shinobu Kitayama and his colleagues found that pride predicts happiness more among Americans and feelings of friendliness predict happiness more among Japanese. Thus, the positive feelings that are most prized vary across societies. The differences in what people value, how they believe they should feel, and how they go about the business of pursuing happiness depend to some extent on culture.
In the end, people around the globe are probably more similar than they are different where emotions, including happiness, are concerned. Friends and family, being able to meet basic physical needs, receiving respect, and having valued goals are important everywhere.
