This is an excellent analogy. I think, however, that your (tentative) conclusion is unwarranted.
The question is, what is the “objective” fact that we would want to measure, in the case of happiness? Does it make sense to say that while the self-report-based instruments only measure how happy you feel, what we would actually like to (but don’t know how to) measure is how happy you actually are (by analogy with the strength example)?
But this seems somewhat absurd, doesn’t it? Why?
Because (it seems to me) “happiness” already refers to a subjective phenomenon. “How happy you are” just means “how happy you feel”. There is no underlying objective phenomenon—or, to be more precise, the subjective phenomenon is the objective phenomenon. How happy people feel, is actually what we are trying to measure.
(Now, self-report-based instruments actually are problematic for measuring that, but for different reasons.)
Clearly, it makes no sense to say that someone is mistaken about how happy they feel. However, it does not seem (obviously) mistaken to suppose that someone might be mistaken about how happy they feel relative to how happy it is possible for them to feel.
Now, this can (it seems to me) take two forms: the interpersonal, and the diachronic. The former first:
Consider someone who has never had anything truly unfortunate happen to them in their lives; the worst event he can recall is when his boyfriend dumped him, in middle school. Our protagonist is also blessed with perfectly normal brain chemistry, and does not suffer from any depressive disorders, etc.
Now suppose we ask this fortunate fellow how happy he feels, on a scale of 1 to 5. “3, I guess,” he answers—thinking to himself that his life has been going ok lately, but it could be worse (that boyfriend thing), but then again it could be better (like the time his friends surprised him with a birthday trip to Disney Land on the same day that he got his dream job).
Meanwhile, his twin brother (they were separated at birth and don’t know each other) has lived an almost identical life, except that several years ago he had a terrifying brush with cancer—which, however, is now in full remission, and has been for some time. His life is otherwise going about as well as his twin’s. When we ask this brother how happy he is, he tells us “5”—not because he’s happier than his twin, but because his baseline for comparison is something much, much worse.
The diachronic form, meanwhile, is essentially the same thing, only the two people we’re comparing are the same person at different times—whose baselines are different, because people’s memories of past experiences deceive them (in many ways that are quite well-documented).
Clearly, it makes no sense to say that someone is mistaken about how happy they feel.
Presumably it does make sense to anyone who has ever said that someone is “out of touch with their feelings”. I can’t see myself ever using that expression, but it is a thing that people say. It is a claim that the person spoken of is mistaken about what they are feeling.
Because (it seems to me) “happiness” already refers to a subjective phenomenon. “How happy you are” just means “how happy you feel”. There is no underlying objective phenomenon—or, to be more precise, the subjective phenomenon is the objective phenomenon. How happy people feel, is actually what we are trying to measure.
I disagree with this. That the word “happy” refers only to a subjective phenomenon, and there does not seem to be a word ready to hand for an objective counterpart, are just accidents of English lexicalisation. But there is such a word, borrowed from the ancients: “eudaimonia”. Opinions differ on what constitutes the eudaimonic life, but given a view on that, one could measure it, and by means less superficial than asking “how happy do you feel?”
Indeed, other things that people measure go some way to doing this. Surveys of political freedom, oppression, prosperity, access to education, high culture, fulfilling work, poverty, etc. address various aspects of human flourishing.
In contrast, asking people “how happy do you feel?” seems frivolous. Why do we want to know this? Why do people want to measure it?
I have seen a good friend in tears one day and cheerful the next. How “happy” were they at either point? What could one do with the answer to such a question?
A more extreme version of the interpersonal is that (one might suppose) you could have two (otherwise*) identical universes such that in the first Bob answers “3” and in the second Bob answers “5″, where both Bob’s feel (currently) the same way (largely*), but a) used different reference points within their life, or b) focus on different things—perhaps in universe 1 Bob thinks or says “my life could be better − 3”, but in universe 2 Bob thinks or says “my life could be worse** − 5′.
*This might require some assumptions about Bob, that don’t necessarily apply to everyone.
**Perhaps in universe 2, it occurs to Bob that he’s never had cancer, or anything of similar magnitude.
This is an excellent analogy. I think, however, that your (tentative) conclusion is unwarranted.
The question is, what is the “objective” fact that we would want to measure, in the case of happiness? Does it make sense to say that while the self-report-based instruments only measure how happy you feel, what we would actually like to (but don’t know how to) measure is how happy you actually are (by analogy with the strength example)?
But this seems somewhat absurd, doesn’t it? Why?
Because (it seems to me) “happiness” already refers to a subjective phenomenon. “How happy you are” just means “how happy you feel”. There is no underlying objective phenomenon—or, to be more precise, the subjective phenomenon is the objective phenomenon. How happy people feel, is actually what we are trying to measure.
(Now, self-report-based instruments actually are problematic for measuring that, but for different reasons.)
And now, the devil’s-advocate position.
Clearly, it makes no sense to say that someone is mistaken about how happy they feel. However, it does not seem (obviously) mistaken to suppose that someone might be mistaken about how happy they feel relative to how happy it is possible for them to feel.
Now, this can (it seems to me) take two forms: the interpersonal, and the diachronic. The former first:
Consider someone who has never had anything truly unfortunate happen to them in their lives; the worst event he can recall is when his boyfriend dumped him, in middle school. Our protagonist is also blessed with perfectly normal brain chemistry, and does not suffer from any depressive disorders, etc.
Now suppose we ask this fortunate fellow how happy he feels, on a scale of 1 to 5. “3, I guess,” he answers—thinking to himself that his life has been going ok lately, but it could be worse (that boyfriend thing), but then again it could be better (like the time his friends surprised him with a birthday trip to Disney Land on the same day that he got his dream job).
Meanwhile, his twin brother (they were separated at birth and don’t know each other) has lived an almost identical life, except that several years ago he had a terrifying brush with cancer—which, however, is now in full remission, and has been for some time. His life is otherwise going about as well as his twin’s. When we ask this brother how happy he is, he tells us “5”—not because he’s happier than his twin, but because his baseline for comparison is something much, much worse.
The diachronic form, meanwhile, is essentially the same thing, only the two people we’re comparing are the same person at different times—whose baselines are different, because people’s memories of past experiences deceive them (in many ways that are quite well-documented).
Presumably it does make sense to anyone who has ever said that someone is “out of touch with their feelings”. I can’t see myself ever using that expression, but it is a thing that people say. It is a claim that the person spoken of is mistaken about what they are feeling.
I disagree with this. That the word “happy” refers only to a subjective phenomenon, and there does not seem to be a word ready to hand for an objective counterpart, are just accidents of English lexicalisation. But there is such a word, borrowed from the ancients: “eudaimonia”. Opinions differ on what constitutes the eudaimonic life, but given a view on that, one could measure it, and by means less superficial than asking “how happy do you feel?”
Indeed, other things that people measure go some way to doing this. Surveys of political freedom, oppression, prosperity, access to education, high culture, fulfilling work, poverty, etc. address various aspects of human flourishing.
In contrast, asking people “how happy do you feel?” seems frivolous. Why do we want to know this? Why do people want to measure it?
I have seen a good friend in tears one day and cheerful the next. How “happy” were they at either point? What could one do with the answer to such a question?
A more extreme version of the interpersonal is that (one might suppose) you could have two (otherwise*) identical universes such that in the first Bob answers “3” and in the second Bob answers “5″, where both Bob’s feel (currently) the same way (largely*), but a) used different reference points within their life, or b) focus on different things—perhaps in universe 1 Bob thinks or says “my life could be better − 3”, but in universe 2 Bob thinks or says “my life could be worse** − 5′.
*This might require some assumptions about Bob, that don’t necessarily apply to everyone.
**Perhaps in universe 2, it occurs to Bob that he’s never had cancer, or anything of similar magnitude.