Journey to Elsewhen

O, that a man might know The end of this day's business ere it come! Shakespeare, Julius Caesar Priests vow to remain celibate, physicians vow to do no harm, and letter carriers vow to swiftly complete their appointed rounds despite snow, sleet, and split infinitives. Few people realize that psychologists also take a vow, promising that at some point in their professional lives they will publish a book, a chapter, or at least an article that contains this sentence: "The human being is the only animal that . . ." We are allowed to finish the sentence any way we like, of course, but it has to start with those eight words. Most of us wait until relatively late in our careers to fulfill this solemn obligation because we know that successive generations of psychologists will ignore all the other words that we managed to pack into a lifetime of well-intentioned scholarship and remem- ber us mainly for how we finished The Sentence. We also know that the worse we do, the better we will be remembered. For instance, those psychologists who finished The Sentence with "can use language" were particularly well remembered when chimpanzees were taught to communicate with hand signs. And when researchers discovered that chimps in the wild use sticks to extract tasty ter- mites from their mounds (and to bash one another over the head now and then), the world suddenly remembered the full name and mailing address of every psychologist who had ever finished The Sentence with "uses tools." So it is for good reason that most psychologists put off completing The Sentence for as long as they can, hoping that if they wait long enough, they just might die in time to avoid being publicly humiliated by a monkey.

I have never before written The Sentence, but I'd like to do so now, with you as my witness. The human being is the only animal that thinks about the future. Now, let me say up front that I've had cats, I've had dogs, I've had gerbils, mice, goldfish, and crabs (no, not that kind), and I do recognize that nonhuman animals often act as though they have the capacity to think about the future. But as bald men with cheap hairpieces always seem to forget, act- ing as though you have something and actually having it are not the same thing, and anyone who looks closely can tell the difference. For example, I live in an urban neighborhood, and every autumn the squirrels in my yard (which is approximately the size of two squirrels) act as though they know that they will be unable to eat later unless they bury some food now. My city has a relatively well-educated citizenry, but as far as anyone can tell its squirrels are not particularly distinguished. Rather, they have regular squirrel brains that run food-burying programs when the amount of sun- light that enters their regular squirrel eyes decreases by a critical amount. Shortened days trigger burying behavior with no intervening contemplation of tomorrow, and the squirrel that stashes a nut in my yard "knows" about the future in approximately the same way that a falling rock "knows" about the law of gravity--which is to say, not really. Until a chimp weeps at the thought of growing old alone, or smiles as it contemplates its summer vacation, or turns down a taffy apple because it already looks too fat in shorts, I will stand by my version of The Sentence. We think about the future in a way that no other animal can, does, or ever has, and this simple, ubiquitous, ordinary act is a defining feature of our humanity.

The Joy of Next

If you were asked to name the human brain's greatest achievement, you might think first of the...

 

Humans often fail at predicting what will make them happy in the future. Weaving together information from a variety of scientific and economic sources, psychology professor Gilbert explores why we know so little about the preferences of the people we're about to become. A terrific narrator of his own work, Gilbert revels in sharing his quirky research--he may be an academic, but his writing is witty and accessible, and he sounds like an entertaining acquaintance who's explaining his ideas rather than reading them. This is not a self-help book (how to be happy), but a well-researched explanation of why we think like we do (how we stumble along in our search for happiness). Listeners will come away from this top-notch production both entertained and enlightened. J.C.G. ¥¥¥ (c) AudioFile 2006, Portland, Maine

 

"Stumbling on Happiness is an absolutely fantastic book that will shatter your most deeply held convictions about how your own mind works. Ceaselessly entertaining, Gilbert is the perfect guide to some of the most interesting psychological research ever performed. Think you know what makes you happy? You won't know for sure until you have read this book."

 

"Gilbert is a professor by trade, but he's every bit as funny as Larry David. Stumbling on Happiness may be one of the most delightfully written layman's books on an academic topic since Robert M. Sapolsky's Why Zebras Don't Get Ulcers."

 

"Extraordinarily readable."

 

"A lucid, charmingly written argument for why our expectations don't pan out."

 

"Insightful, inquisitive and, at times, hilarious. . . . Sensitively probes the realities we take for granted."

 

"An engrossing and witty look at how the human brain is wired. . . . Gilbert's book has no subtitle, allowing you to invent your own. I'd call it 'The Only Truly Useful Book on Psychology I've Ever Read.'"

 

"Gilbert's elbow-in-the-ribs social-science humor is actually funny . .. (but) underneath the goofball brilliance, Gilbert has a serious argument to make about why human beings are forever wrongly predicting what will make them happy."

 

"A fascinating new book that explores our sometimes misguided attempts to find happiness."

 

"A leader in the burgeoning study of affective forecasting, Mr. Gilbert's new book . . . is already getting good reviews for its lucid explanations of the latest scientific research."

 

"Provocative and hilarious. . . . Gilbert's book is a brilliant expose of how we think and how we plan . . . with wry and telling humor on every page."

 

"Gilbert's playful tone and use of commonplace examples render a potentially academic topic accessible and educational."

 

"Gilbert examines what sciences has discovered about how well the human brain can predict future enjoyment. . . . The ideas may be disconcerting, but they're backed by solid research and presented with persuasive charm and wit."

 

"With some loopy humor, lively wit and panache, Gilbert explores why the most important decisions of our lives are so often made so poorly."

 

"Have you ever finished a book, then started right in reading it again from the start? Was it so satisfying you couldn't bear to let it end? Or so deep you couldn't understand parts until you read it over again? Stumbling on Happiness by Daniel Gilbert has both those qualities. . . . I learned a great deal from this book. . . . I predict you will be happy you read it. And you may even want to read it from the start again. I did."

 

"This book is brilliant. . . . It's a book that will be talked about by people everywhere. Trust me on that."