Maybe money does buy happiness after all

Replied to Money Does Buy Happiness by Ingrid Fetell Lee (aestheticsofjoy.com)

Does that mean that happiness is simply a matter of taking high-paying job (even if you hate it) or going on weekly shopping sprees? No, of course not. But what this research does suggest is that we’re naive if we ignore the role that money plays in our happiness and overall well-being.

As Lee points out, money buys safety, health and security: “Money can’t solve every problem in life, but it can solve a lot of them.” In American society, which leaves it up to individuals to take care of themselves, buying these is the only way to get them. I’d be interested to see the study replicated in other contexts with a more supportive social structure. Craig Mod put it well in his recent newsletter: “…that’s what I am talking about when I talk about fairness, how far a society allows someone to fall before intervening, before dramatic intervention happens automatically.” In the US, we let people fall too far.

Beyond baseline security, money can also facilitate greater choice. When you don’t have to worry about your basic survival, you get to think more about what you want out of life. You can choose where to live and what kind of work you want to do.

I can point directly to money making me happier in the past year: I had enough savings that I could quit my job where I was stressed, unstimulated, unappreciated and overworked. In short, I was burned the hell out and depressed. My mental health has improved drastically since leaving; if I hadn’t had the money and the spousal health coverage, I might have felt obliged to stay.

Money buys freedom.

Money buys choice.

Now, it’s financial security that allows me to take time to heal physically as well as mentally, to not push myself too fast or too hard and disrupt my recovery.

My nutritionist reminded me this week that adrenal recovery often takes 18-24 months 👀 That’s a lot of patience I need to have. She sobered me with a story of a patient who couldn’t bring herself to rest during cancer treatment (although she could afford it) and it came back after six months — and she died 😞 I thankfully don’t have cancer, but high levels of cortisol, left untreated, can contribute to developing diabetes and hypertension and thyroid issues and other dangerous chronic diseases, increase risk of heart disease, and suppress the immune system; my care team has been beating into my head that I must prioritize my health and listen to my body’s needs.

It’s a challenging shift after suppressing and ignoring my needs for so long. I’m figuring out how I can communicate to my body that I don’t have to endure any more, that it’s ok to rest. I’ve felt exhausted lately, which we hope might be a sign that I’m responding to treatment — that my body is starting to come down from its always-on state and recalibrate, and I’m now feeling the fatigue I had been pushing through. Today I had an appointment with a new specialist and did some follow-up labwork — just two hours at the hospital, but I was wiped when I got home. I’d planned to work this afternoon, but I gave myself the day off instead and only felt a soupçon of guilt 🦾 I am teaching myself to have a healthy rest ethic by practicing one, even if it sometimes feels uncomfortable 🙌 Of all things, rest cannot be rushed. Chronic, preventable diseases kill far too many people; I have the means to try not to become one of them. It would be foolhardy not to.

All the while, I’m cognizant that rest is somehow “a luxury” I am buying myself. That I’m lucky, too, to have the time and money to have a team of specialists helping me address my health issues, when others just live with them. That so many others need a break, but our society is structured to extract their labor at the cost of their health — even their life. This is why self-care must also be communal. Health care should not be treated as a luxury; it’s a human right.

 

Paper referenced:

Income and emotional well-being: A conflict resolved by Matthew A. Killingsworth, Daniel Kahneman, and Barbara Mellers (2023)