Contentment Smoothing
Some thoughts on happiness
Consumption smoothing—sometimes formulated as the “life cycle hypothesis”—is a basic tenet of applied economics; you’re probably familiar with the premise, if not the exact term.
The basic concept is that the times when we need money don’t always match up with the times we get it, so we often borrow and save strategically in anticipation of big windfalls/expenses. This can be true on both a shorter timeline (e.g., credit cards) and longer one, as in the graph below:
In the spirit of taking another metaphor and running with it, I’m interested in borrowing this economic concept here and applying it to psychosocial resources: To what extent is it possible to “bank” joy for later use, or “borrow” future happiness?
As with money, the times when we most need emotional stability surely do not always line up well with the times when we actually get our biggest boosts. In fact, even if just by chance, it often feels like the wins and losses come in streaks: In just a few months, we lose our job and our relationship is falling apart and we develop a rare psychological affliction that prevents us from ever removing our denim cutoffs—or whatever it may be. When it rains, it pours.
In this vein, “contentment smoothing” is an attempt to redistribute happiness from better times to worse ones: strategically drawing on positive events/experiences to increase resilience to stressors and setbacks.
Let’s acknowledge right away that there are disanalogies here. For starters, happiness is considerably less liquid and fungible than money. (It’s not like you get a little smiley-face token on your birthday that you can use whenever you want—unfortunately.) Nor should the beautiful enigma of how to live our lives be reduced to a problem of economic optimization! Lord knows there are already enough forces pushing us to do that in places where they don’t belong…
And of course sometimes life hands us a lemon—loss, trauma, mental illness—that even the most robust psychological toolkit cannot press into lemonade. Sometimes, there’s simply nothing an individual can do that will make a source of unhappiness go away; I don’t mean to trivialize this or suggest that contentment smoothing is a silver bullet. (A bit more on this at the end.)
But if you believe, as I do, that happiness is even a little contagious, a little preservable, then it’s worth deliberately cultivating this practice. Sure, contentment smoothing may not always be clearly actionable—but it can often offer helpful guidance. On its own, it may not be sufficient for a happy life—but it is surely necessary, whether or not you prefer to describe what you’re doing in explicitly economic terms.
Or were you under the impression that all your problems and neuroses are just going to smooth themselves out on their own…?
How to “Bank” and “Borrow” Happiness
A lot of what I’m about to prescribe can be reduced to boilerplate positive psychology advice: Express gratitude, build strong relationships, etc. For many of these ideas, there’s solid empirical evidence—and that’s ultimately what matters: So long as a strategy works for you, I don’t think it really matters whether it works “because” of contentment smoothing, or it’s actually explained by some other mechanism.
Still, because contentment smoothing is a fairly broad, flexible framework, I like to think it helps unify seemingly disparate and unrelated tips for improving wellbeing.
As this is a speculative post, I’m going to move through the strategies below in order of decreasing certainty and decreasing fit with my thesis: The earlier suggestions tend to have a stronger basis in research, for example; as the list goes on, some of the ideas devolve into generic what-if-we-thought-about-happiness-like-investing? advice, with less direct analogy to contentment smoothing. (You’ll notice the explanations tend to get shorter for this reason as well.)
1. Consumption ≈ Contentment
Money doesn’t buy you happiness—except literally all the time, when it does.
Now, of course it’s true that money doesn’t directly buy happiness; it buys the goods and experiences that are conducive to happiness. As anyone who has ever gone hungry (or even just been hangry) will surely agree, our material conditions are relevant to our spiritual ones. Indeed, evidence suggests that while moment-to-moment emotional wellbeing levels off around $75,000—presumably higher now?—overall life satisfaction never stops rising with income. (Albeit at a slower rate: Income must keep doubling to produce the same increase in happiness at lower levels.)
So yes—at the high end of the income distribution, I think there’s a decent case that w/r/t happiness, optimizing for (even greater) financial success isn’t necessarily the best use of time and energy. Moving toward the middle and low end, though, the evidence seems pretty clear: You’re much more likely to be happy in retirement if you’re not struggling to cover your medical expenses and pay for groceries.
2. “Consume” and “Invest” Simultaneously
Buying a home can be a great investment—but a lot of the time, it’s not just an investment; it’s also, you know, the place where you eat and sleep and do all your little human things! In a word: consumption.
Similarly, it’s possible to have experiences that both feel good in the moment and are good for you. Depending on your personality, these experiences could include exercise, grabbing coffee with a colleague, or online shopping for items that will improve your quality of life. All these activities are potentially enjoyable in their own right, and can serve as a source of pride, solace, or utility in the future—a kind of happiness “buy one get one free.” (Of course, it’s also become a psychological truism that in general, experiences are more likely to provide happiness than things.)
Or, on a longer time horizon, consider college: As a form of literal consumption smoothing, earning a bachelor’s degree often requires a short-term financial loss in exchange for higher earnings in the long-term. As a form of contentment smoothing, there is no such tradeoff: Most people enjoy their undergraduate experience while it’s happening, and that the connections and credentials gained continue to provide all kinds of social, professional, and financial benefits down the road. It’s a gift that keeps on giving.
In psychological terms, these kinds of activities might be described as opportunities to serve the experiencing and remembering self simultaneously. Or in pop-psych terms: You don’t always have to choose between optimizing type 1 and type 2 fun.
In short, a lot of the time, happiness can feel like an impossible puzzle to solve, requiring all kinds of sacrifices and uncertainties and delays of gratifications—but every once in a while that rarest of moments presents itself: a chance for unadulterated joy from which only more joy will grow. If you get a chance like that, jump on it!
3. Document and Savor
Although it’s not always possible to “consume” and “invest” in happiness at exactly the same time, it’s often quite inexpensive to preserve the memory of a positive experience. It takes just a few seconds to snap a photo or video, for example—records that can become increasingly precious and nostalgic as we grow more and more distant from the moment we took them.
Similarly, it’s worth considering whether there are ways you can concretely mark and measure your wins: reminders to look back on when you’re experiencing sadness or self-doubt. I’ve heard, for example, of people who keep a file or email folder of nice things people say to them, to look at when they’re having a bad day. A more goal-oriented approach might be, say, a tally of the number of times you’ve practiced piano this month, or a “got done” list.
(Related: One of the most gratifying aspects of blogging has been seeing the total number of published posts go up week after week—in stark contrast to most of the essays I’ve written in my life, which end up in the recycling bin or a never-checked computer folder. Just to say that your own personal little KPIs don’t need to be very sophisticated or the ones the world cares about!)
Of course, getting too obsessed with documenting your life can begin to look pathological, and detract from your actual enjoyment of it: If you’re only ever looking at the sunset on the screen of your iPhone, you’re likely missing out on how stunning the real thing is. (The best, of course—and I’m very guilty of freeloading in this way—is to spend time with other people who like to take photos; they take care of the memento, while you live in the moment.)
Then there’s the added consideration—in the age of social media—of whether your documentation occurs privately or publicly. And another important distinction between simply observing or recording an experience and precisely measuring it (the latter often implying greater optimization). I tend to think that as a society, the trend toward more public and more quantitative modes of documenting our lives has left us less happy—but of course this will vary from person to person and is difficult to say definitively.
Finally, taking the time to make something that will seal an experience in amber can be a great gift to your future self. This could take the form art—a song, a painting, some verses of elegiac poetry etc.—but it could also be more informal, like a journal entry. (Research shows that thoughtful writing about our experiences can provide benefits such as post-traumatic growth, improved learning, and greater feelings of meaning/engagement.)
To be sure, there are multiple explanations for why documenting experiences like this has psychological benefits, not all of them related to contentment smoothing. There is something inherently therapeutic about the act of self-expression, I think: The act of translating a memory out of mushy, ruminative brainspace and into actual words/images/sounds makes it easier to process and understand.
On top of this, though, is another major benefit: Documenting positive experiences allows us to savor them—to reap an event’s dividends, in the economic analogy—long after they have occurred. Even a negative experience can be a certain comfort to think back on in retrospect. (When reading old journal entries, for example, I’m often struck by how silly and insignificant all my preoccupations of the past were; I can only assume today’s problems will one day look the same.)
In sum, documenting/savoring is not quite as resource-efficient as simultaneous consumption + investment; nevertheless, it offers a chance to derive greater value from significant moments in our lives, with very little extra effort.
4. Anticipate and Fantasize
If “Document and Savor” is the psychological equivalent of saving for the future, “Anticipate and Fantasize” is the equivalent of buying on credit or taking out a loan.
Anticipation and fantasy here really just mean imagining yourself into situations that have not yet happened—whether distant (spending time with a grandchild), or more near-term (Friday). As with the previous two suggestions, there’s a double-dipping quality to this: There’s the anticipatory happiness for the event and the happiness you get from the event itself. (Add in the retrospective happiness and that’s a three-for-one special!)
Consider here that depression has been characterized as a triad of automatic negative beliefs: about oneself, one’s world, and one’s future. In this vein, a deliberate practice of imagining good outcomes is an obvious antidote against the third member of the triad—perhaps the first two as well, less directly. And the future is easier to reframe, I’d argue, than one’s perception of the world or oneself, simply because it hasn’t happened yet: It’s no more or less conceivable that you’ll win a million dollars than it is that a meteor will strike your house. (By contrast, spinning or ignoring bad stuff in the past/present is inherently reactive.)
Again, fantasy can become pathological if it becomes too reflexive or detached from reality; I’m certainly not advocating for anyone sustaining themselves on delusions of becoming the next Jesus or Jeff Bezos. I am, however, an advocate for sustaining yourself on those beautiful illusions we call art: Film, books, television, and other forms of entertainment are all healthy forms of fantasy, too—escapism that offers us vicarious experiences and implicit messages about the way things can be. Exposure to other stories helps us to reimagine our own, especially when it is not unfolding as we had hoped.
5. Connect When You’re Up; Connect When You’re Down
Happy friends make you happy (even more remarkable, their friends make you happy), and it’s well-documented that the quality of a person’s relationships is the single greatest predictor of happiness. It stands to reason, then, that one way to “bank” and “borrow” happiness is with other people.
What does this look like? Actually, it’s arguably the purest application of contentment smoothing: When you have surplus joy, share it with others; when you need a shoulder to cry on, cash out.
Of course, keeping score in a friendship or partnership is bad. Still it seems valid to expect some degree of reciprocity and interdependence in our relationships, so long as they don’t become totally transactional (Of course, things won’t always be perfectly even.) This feels like common sense: Of course none of us wants to be the friend who only ever reaches out when they want something or are in the midst of a crisis.
And who knows? Sometimes, if you reach out when you’re in a good mood, you may be just the boost that person didn’t know they needed :D.
6. Do Yourself a Favor
The strategies I’ve focused on up to now all come at little or no cost.
Often, however, happiness does require real tradeoffs: We can go on a beach trip with friend A, or we can go on a ski trip with friend B; we can have an extra couple drinks tonight—or we can have a less excruciating hangover tomorrow. These tradeoffs are part of what make happiness such a tough nut to crack in the first place.
Now, there are times when there’s just no getting around the problem. (Ripping off a Band-Aid sucks no matter when/how you do it.) But there are other times when there’s a clear value to doing something now vs. pushing it off: Which do you think will make you happier, for example—eating an entire pizza in one sitting, or having leftover slices for several days?
The point here isn’t that delaying gratification is inherently wise or virtuous (looking at you, marshmallow test), but that sometimes your utility function changes depending on when you choose to do something.
An unpleasant chore, for example, can be just about the nail in the coffin when you’re already having a shitty day; but if you find yourself in a good mood, with excess motivation, maybe it’s not so bad! That (comparatively) small sacrifice undertaken by Happy You can save Depressed You thirty minutes of pure misery.
Looking around, it seems to me that as our brains develop, many of us drift naturally toward this conclusion to some extent: Serial procrastinators in high school and college are no longer pulling literal all-nighters to fulfill their obligations. (Or maybe I’m just not hearing about it?) Sure, this is partly because spreading out work leads to better outcomes; but I think it’s also because the volatility of bingey work and leisure habits ends up looking less appealing than spreading out both the joy and the suffering.
(Is it possible to overdo this? Yes—precrastination is definitely a thing. I’m certainly guilty of depriving myself in the present for some imagined future reward that never actually materializes.)
A lot of times, you have a chance for a little extra happiness today—but if you wait until tomorrow to make your withdrawal, it will provide a lot of extra happiness (or reduction in misery) that isn’t accessible at this moment.
7. Diversify Your Psychological Portfolio
If you derive joy/meaning in life exclusively from work…and then you lose your job…you're going to be pretty screwed! (Psychologically, I mean. Also you’re probably going to lose your healthcare and not make as much money.)
If you derive joy/meaning from your work and your relationship and your faith community and your X-treme knitting club, then losing your job is still bad—but at least you don’t have to file for psychological bankruptcy. Having multiple sources of happiness and supports/coping mechanisms helps buffer against the most catastrophic life events.
8. Make It Automatic
One mechanism that helps people save for retirement is having the money come out of their paycheck before it ever hits their bank account: It’s easier to invest if you don’t have to think about it. Similarly, if there are things you know will likely make you happy, but require a little activation energy or willpower to do, committing yourself to them in advance can help you practice good psychological hygiene.
Translation: Sign up for that sports league or pottery class you were thinking about! Schedule a set time to meditate every day! Have a standing brunch date!
9. Speak to a Trusted Advisor
Investing (read: living your life) is an inherently risky activity; for this reason, it is wise to consult with an expert (read: mental health professional) before following any of the recommendations above—or just talk to a friend/loved one who is well-acquainted with your situation!
No, Please—Keep Telling Me What Will Make Me Happy, Asshole
Uhh, okay…?
I called this post “contentment smoothing” not only because it was the only happiness-related riff on “consumption smoothing” I could come up with but also because of what “contentment” implies as a goal: a relaxed satisfaction with our existence, rather than the euphoric high connoted by “[I feel] happy.”
Now, maybe a well-lived life in fact should have some euphoric highs and devastating lows: Isn’t that variety part of what makes things interesting? Is it really desirable to flatten all those peak/valley experiences into a decent-to-pretty-good middle?
In theory, these are totally valid objections, and I full-heartedly agree that if your days all look the same, you’re doing it wrong. In practice, however, it seems to me that most of us are ridiculously far from a reality where we have to worry about having too smooth a level of contentment: Surprises, both good and bad, aren’t exactly in short supply…
This isn’t to say that people don’t ever crave change or novelty, of course. (Also maybe it’s a legitimately good idea to seek out more peak experiences when you’re young? If only to put everything else in context and learn your limits/what kind of brain you’re working with.) But in general, I think the challenge most of us face is figuring out how to maintain equanimity through life’s uncertainty—not add excitement to our bland existence. If the greatest threat to happiness is chaos and misfortune, contentment smoothing seems like a good way to think about achieving success in this domain.
It should also be noted that contentment smoothing assumes a certain level of self-awareness: a concept of where your current level of happiness falls in relation to your baseline. After all, it’s not like you can log in to see how many happiness bucks are sitting in your account to know when you’re running a deficit; you have to recognize that you’re feeling extra sad to know when it’s appropriate to borrow or cash out. Even more difficult, you have to remember to “invest” when you’re feeling extra happy.
The danger of not being honest with yourself about your psychological state is that you expend resources when you don’t need them most. Perhaps you stay up late watching your favorite movie, just because you’re bored—and then the next day you find out you need to cover an extra shift at work; you screwed yourself over for nothing! Or you keep calling your friend to complain about mosquito bites—and then when you find out you have cancer, they’re tired of hearing about your medical problems. (I guess they’re also kind of an asshole?) In short, I’m all for taking out a “loan” from a friend or your future self, but these things should be be done with care—and with eyes wide open.
(Conversely, there’s the risk of deluding ourselves into believing we’re richer—i.e., happier—than we really are, and denying ourselves pleasures we actually need.)
There’s another kind of self-awareness that can help with contentment smoothing: recognizing when your natural peaks and dips tend to occur throughout a twenty-four hour cycle. Most of us have somewhat predictable fluctuations in energy, albeit at different times of day and to different extremes; if you know when you’re most likely to get sleepy and apathetic, you can avoid scheduling demanding or happiness-sucking activities for those times. (For me, it’s a rare afternoon when I don’t feel draggy.) In this way, contentment smoothing is just as applicable to a short timeline as a long one.
Finally, I know it’s just not that simple to find a source of happiness when you’re in the throes of anxiety or depression. I know that a little nostalgia or gratitude journaling isn't going to fix the crushing weight of abuse, violence, and inequality that people experience on a daily basis. I know “contentment smoothing” can’t fill the hole left by losing a loved one.
Still, if there is anything that helps with trauma, surely it is the support of family and friends. If there is anything that helps with grief, surely it is the words and images that preserve the memory of the deceased—the familiar rituals that relieve the burden of having to decide how to act. All of these supports and coping strategies provide greater solace if we have consciously invested in them, by building up their meaningfulness and efficacy over time. And although they can never eliminate the pain, they can soften its most jagged edges.
TL;DR
In the words of psychologist Nick Epley, “happiness is like a leaky tire.” Pump that tire when you have air to spare.
Thanks to Stephen for edits.