Saturday, October 21, 2017

An Analysis of the Las Vegas Shooting


On the night of 1 October, a music concert in Las Vegas was interrupted by the discordant sounds of gunshots and screaming. Ten minutes of non-stop bullets fired from the 32nd floor of a neighbouring hotel left 58 people dead and 546 injured. The mass murderer was identified as one Stephen Paddock. As is typical of spree shooters, the last person Paddock killed was himself, much before the police could approach his hotel room. Three weeks later, the American police, investigators, media and general public are still frantically searching for a motive. Why did Paddock cause what turned out to be the deadliest massacre in American history by a single individual?

This article offers my theory about the motive of this ‘lone wolf’.

Can a white man be called a terrorist?
It would have been much simpler if Paddock had Arabic features or if his name was Mohammed Paddock. The carnage could then be legally and technically called an act of terrorism; the USA could then officially send drones to some Arab geography and bomb a few hundred civilians in retaliation for this imported terror. Unfortunately, Stephen Paddock was white, very American, without any links whatsoever to politics or religion. Though ISIS claimed responsibility for the attack, in this case it was an obvious lie. Most ISIS recruits are in their 20s and 3os. Paddock was 64 years old.

A completely different shooter  
Other than his pensionable age, Paddock’s complete absence from social media has left analysts dumbfounded. Paddock didn’t leave a suicide note, emails, video messages, nothing. His not having a Facebook or Twitter account could be partly explained by his age, but he could have still left an explanatory letter or clues.

Paddock had no criminal record in any State or federal data base, except a single minor traffic violation years ago.

He was rich, not in any financial difficulties. Weeks before the shooting, he had sent his girlfriend to her native land-Philippines- and then transferred 100,000 dollars in her name, an act she had interpreted as the break-up of the relationship. It indeed was his parting gift to her, but not in a way she thought.

Ben Paddock, the biological father of Stephen Paddock, was a bank robber and con man. For eight years, he was on the FBI’s ten most wanted fugitives’ list. However, he had disappeared when Stephen was seven. Ben’s wife had told the four sons their father was dead. Ben Paddock took no further part in the kids’ upbringing. It’s a moot point whether criminal genes exist and are hereditary. 

Mass murderers are supposed to be depressed or angry or mentally unstable. The investigators conducted detailed autopsy tests on Paddock’s brain to find abnormalities. There were none. Paddock possessed a normal, healthy brain.

In fact, his preparation for the shooting was methodical and systematic.  23 rifles and a handgun were found in his hotel room. Over a period of six days, he had secretly brought them in ten large suitcases. Twelve rifles were fitted with bump fire stocks, a device that converts semi-automatic into automatic weapons. The same room had tripods for the rifles to rest on, high-tech telescopic sights, a large quantity of ammunition. The entire arsenal was very expensive, top of the range. Paddock had placed baby cameras inside and outside his room for him to monitor all movement in the hotel corridors. His car, parked in the hotel basement, was full of stocks of Ammonium Nitrate (used in bombs), 1600 rounds of ammunition, and 23 kg of Tannerite (another explosive). At his home in Mesquite, police located 19 more firearms, explosives and thousands of rounds of ammunition. All guns, even the semi-automatic rifles, were bought legally. Nevada gun laws permit the buying and carrying of rifles and shotguns without permits.

The shooting was not impulsive in any way. Paddock had, over the years, systematically built up his gun museum. Six days before the massacre, when he checked in at hotel Mandalay Bay, he knew exactly what he planned to do on the day of the concert. A few months before, he had checked in at various hotels next to music festivals, presumably for reconnaissance.

A successful and rich man
To speculate on his motive, one needs to look at Stephen Paddock’s career. He was an MBA from the California State University. He worked for the Internal Revenue Service as an accountant and auditor for a few years. Disappointed with the kind of money a salaried person makes, he entered the real-estate business. Very successful at that, he was worth more than $2 million by the year 2000. His tax records show he made $6 million profits from selling some of his property in 2015.

His main career for the last 25 years, though, was gambling. He slept during the day, and gambled through the night. Paddock’s speciality was the game of video poker. This is different from the crowded tables in glamorous casinos we see in the James Bond movies. For hours, and for years, Paddock played alone in front of a slot machine. As an accountant, he had developed algorithms, and was a successful gambler. His bets ranged from $10000 to $50000. He was so loyal; most casinos offered him free hotel rooms as a reward for his loyalty. The room he had booked at hotel Mandalay Bay for a week was part of the free promotion.

He lived in various houses, but didn’t socialise with any of his neighbours. In fact, he built barricades to make sure the neighbours couldn’t see anything in his house. Since he slept during the day, his rooms were covered with thick curtains to keep the sun away. Paddock had two divorces, and a current girlfriend.

Boredom and a new challenge
Two things emerge on reading Paddock’s life history. (a) He was not social, almost a misanthrope. (b) He loved gambling and casino games. The two factors are critical when speculating Paddock’s motive.

I think Paddock was bored. Anyone looking at a five-card slot machine for twenty-five years would be. He was looking for a new grand game with much higher stakes. A game worthy of his talents. A challenge that would take him out of the dark casino room, and allow him to do something spectacular out there in the real world. He found such a game – the hunting of humans, a 21st century sport.

Hunting of humans
The big-game hunting of humans is played on two levels-State and individual.

On the State level, when NATO soldiers use their most sophisticated weaponry in Iraq or Syria, they can fearlessly hunt human beings, most of them civilians. The soldiers are given hunting licences, and they are rewarded for the number of corpses they can produce. Sometimes tragedy strikes and the hunter himself gets killed. His family becomes the gold star family. His widow may get a personal phone call from the president of the USA.

On the individual level, mass murderers try to maximise the number of prey. I call it the “Corpse Ratio”. (Read my open diary Week 43/ 2006: the Ethics of NuclearBombing.)

11 September 2001 set the benchmark for all aspiring mass murderers. Each of the plane hijackers managed to kill 150 people. That corpse ratio statistic, 1:150, remains a record till date.

Last year, Mohamed Lahouaiej-Bouhlel, 31, drove a truck into the crowd celebrating Bastille Day in Nice, France. He killed 86 people.

The previous American record was held by Omar Mateen, 29, who single-handedly killed 49 people last year in a nightclub in Orlando, Florida.

Stephen Paddock managed to beat the American record in the individual hunting competition, but he fell short of the 1:150 all time record set by the 9/11 terrorists.

As an accountant, auditor and gambler, Paddock was probably aware of these records. It is possible he died happily thinking (wrongly) he had killed far more people than he actually did.

Getting away with murder
Just like the American soldiers killing human beings in Iraq and Syria, the mass murderers usually escape any statutory punishment. They either kill themselves or are killed by the police (known as Suicide by Cop).

Social researchers have found that many normal people would be inclined to commit crimes, if there was no punishment. In a 2014 study, one third of male students at a US university said they would rape a woman if they could get away with it.

It is plausible Stephen Paddock wished to play the spectacular game of man-hunting, with no fear of jail. It’s much easier for a 64-year man to decide to end his life, than for a 29-year old, I presume. Paddock got bored at 64, but he could have got bored at 84. With his expensive rifles, he could have still managed to take part in the mass murder sport.

The lesson  
Just as in the private sector, 9/11 established a record of 1:150; on the State level, the Hiroshima and Nagasaki bombing had produced the best corpse ratios in the history of warfare.  If you ignore the small number of unfortunate Americans stationed there, the two bombs killed more than 200,000 enemy bodies without losing a single of their own.

As the weapons become more sophisticated and plentiful, the State actors would also aspire to improve the corpse ratio in this game of human hunting.

The current US president is 71 years old. The world’s deadliest weapons are at his fingertips. Using them is his prerogative; no punishment is prescribed for it. If he senses his term coming to an end by law or prematurely, he may be tempted to break the Hiroshima-Nagasaki record.

Just as Paddock wished to end his career and life in a spectacular fashion, so can the president of the United States of America. North Korea has 25 million people. “Totally destroying North Korea” would make the world forget Hiroshima.

Evil old men with sophisticated weapons, fearing no punishment, participating in the 21st century human hunting sport. That, for me, is the big lesson of the Las Vegas shooting.


Ravi 

Friday, October 13, 2017

Gross National Happiness


To understand the way Bhutan calculates its Gross National Happiness, we should recall the way we were marked and graded in our school and college days. In India, each subject was awarded a maximum of 100 marks, with 35 or 40 as a passing threshold.  Students received a distinction, first, second or third class as grades based on the sum of marks translated in a percent score. Instead of Bachelor of Arts or Science, imagine yourself appearing for a “Bachelor of Happiness” degree with the following nine subjects, all carrying equal weight.

1.       Psychological well being
2.      Health
3.      Time use
4.      Education
5.      Cultural diversity and resilience
6.      Good governance
7.      Community vitality
8.     Ecological diversity and resilience
9.      Living standards

Before describing each, let me explain the concept of thresholds.

Thresholds
The GNH index uses two kinds of thresholds or cut offs: Sufficiency thresholds and a happiness threshold.

Sufficiency thresholds are like passing marks. It asks ‘how much is enough to be happy’. For example, in Bhutan, an income of 1.5 times the poverty line income is considered sufficient for the earner to be happy. In affluent countries, a car and a bedroom of your own may be a sufficiency threshold. (Ownership of twenty cars and a house with fifty bedrooms may not result in exponential happiness. No matter how well you write an exam paper, you will never get more than 100%).  

The second cut off is the happiness threshold. It asks ‘how many domains or in what percentage of indicators must a person achieve sufficiency in order to be understood as happy?’ In other words, you will get your ‘Bachelor of happiness’ if you cross the sufficiency thresholds (receive pass marks) in at least 66% of the indicators. Why is GNH marked at 66%? Because the system is subjective, and people are diverse. For example, spirituality is one of the indicators. An atheist may discard it (not pass in that subject), but still be happy because he has achieved sufficiency in so many other indicators.

Each Bhutanese citizen is interviewed as part of the GNH survey. Based on his or her answers, a score is created. The person gets classified into one of four categories. Following are the results of Bhutan’s 2015 survey.
2015 GNH survey
Score range
% of Bhutanese
Deeply Happy
77%-100%
8.4%
Extensively Happy
66%-76%
35.0%
Narrowly Happy
50%-65%
47.9%
Unhappy
0%-49%
8.8%

Is Bhutan the happiest nation, because it invented GNH? Not at all, and the kingdom doesn’t claim to be. By quantifying happiness in detail, Bhutan can keep reshaping its politics and public policy in order to improve the score. The national index in 2015 was 0.756, an improvement over 0.743 in 2010.

Let me now briefly talk of the nine domains and the 33 indicators that are part of those domains.

Psychological well-being
Indicators: (a) Life satisfaction, (b) emotional balance (positive and negative emotions) and (c) spirituality.

Life satisfaction is a person’s self-assessment based on his health, occupation, family, standard of living and work-life balance, each measured on a scale of 1-5. The highest score is 25, whereas the sufficiency threshold is set at 19.

Compassion, generosity, forgiveness, contentment and calmness are the positive emotions, while selfishness, jealousy, anger, fear and worry are the negative or ‘disturbing’ emotions. Both are rated on a scale of 1 (never) to 5 (very much).

Spirituality is self assessed but also asks about the person’s view on karma, his engagement in prayers and meditation. This factor would be less relevant in places like Europe or USA.

Health
Indicators: (a) Self-reported health status (b) Number of healthy days (c) disability (d) mental health

Typically, a Bhutanese individual is said to be well only if heat and pain are absent from the body and sorrow is absent from the mind. The sufficiency threshold for healthy days has been set at 26 days a month. The mental health indicator consists of 12 questions that can decipher depression, anxiety as well as confidence and concentration levels of the respondent.

Health, in my view, is critical for happiness. I know of a couple of multi-millionaires each spending the last decade in a wheelchair constantly shuttling between home and hospital.

Time Use
Indicators: (a) Paid work (b) Unpaid work (c) Sleeping hours

Working hours under GNH include unpaid work such as childcare, household work and voluntary work. Eight hours a day is the legal limit. Those who work longer are identified as ‘time deprived’. Many Bhutanese women, and people in Eastern Bhutan suffer from time deprivation.

Eight hours’ sleep is considered necessary for a well-functioning body. Those sleeping short hours are ‘sleep deprived’.

Shortage of sleep due to overwork is a double whammy. It deprives a person of free time as well as sleep.

Education
Indicators: (a) Literacy (b) schooling (c) knowledge (d) value

The holistic approach values deep foundation in traditional knowledge, common values and skills. The primary task of education, formal or otherwise, is the creation of good human beings. That’s why the indicator includes the cultivation and transmission of values.

Reading/writing in one language and six years of schooling are sufficiency thresholds.
The five knowledge variables are interesting. Knowledge of (1) local legends and folk stories, (2) local festivals, (3) traditional songs, (4) HIV-AIDS transmission and (5) constitution.

In values, respondents are asked how justifiable the five destructive actions are: killing, stealing, lying, creating disharmony in relationships and sexual misconduct.

Cultural diversity and resilience
Indicators: (a) Speak native language (b) artisan skills (c) socio-cultural activities (d) Driglam Namzha (the way of harmony)

In Bhutan, the sufficiency threshold is very high for speaking the native language, since almost everyone is fluent in his/her mother tongue. (Not the case in elite or elitist India).
The 13 arts and crafts include weaving, embroidery, painting, carpentry, carving, sculpture, casting, blacksmithing, bamboo works, gold/silver- smithing, masonry, leather works and papermaking. (This is one indicator where I fail miserably).

Respondents are asked the number of days they participated in socio-cultural activities in the past 12 months. The sufficiency threshold is 6-12 days a year.

Driglam Namzha is the expected behaviour on formal occasions. For example, at Indian weddings, Indian women wear colourful, silk sarees. If respondents perceive this as important, they score higher. The assumption is that valuing traditions grows happiness.

Good Governance
Indicators: (a) Political participation (b) Fundamental rights (c) Service delivery (d) Government performance

Political participation is assessed based on your inclination to vote in the next election, and the frequency of your attending the community meetings.

Fundamental rights include freedom of speech and opinion, to vote, to form or join any political party, equal access to join public service, equal pay for work of equal value, non-discrimination based on race or gender.

Service delivery is measured by your access to the nearest health care centre, waste disposal method, access to electricity and clean water supply. If you dispose trash by composting/burning/ municipal garbage pickup, you are doing fine. If your answer is to dump in forests/dump in rivers, then you are deprived.

You assess your government’s efficiency by rating their performance in the last 12 months on seven objectives: employment, equality, education, health, anti-corruption, environment and culture. Each is rated on a scale of 1 to 5; the maximum value for this indicator is 35. A sufficiency threshold is set at 28; meaning a ‘good’ or ‘very good’ rating is needed in at least five objectives.

It is noteworthy that your method of waste disposal or your government’s performance affect not only the nation’s happiness but your individual happiness as well.

Community Vitality
Indicators: (a) Donating time and money (b) Community relationships (c) Family

GNH philosophy expects strong relationships among the community members and within families, socially constructive values, volunteering and donating time and money, and safety from violence and crime. These are considered fundamental to community development.

For donation, (1) donating 10% of your income and volunteering 3 days a year or (2) donating 20% of your income or (3) volunteering for more than 6 days a year are the sufficiency thresholds.

Community relationships are judged by your ‘sense of belonging’ and ‘trust in neighbours’.
For assessing safety, respondents are asked whether they have been a victim of crime in the past 12 months. The question requires a yes or no, and the threshold is set at “no”.

Ecological Diversity and Resilience
Indicators: (a) Wildlife damage (b) Urban issues (c) Environmental responsibility (d) Pollution

This domain explains why Bhutan doesn’t welcome tourists. Tourism can be a grand business for Bhutan, the GDP would grow dramatically, but the pollution would go up and wildlife may get damaged. Happiness will fall just as GDP grows. (Indian tourists are reluctantly allowed because India takes care of Bhutan’s defence. China swallowing Bhutan like it did with Tibet is an existential threat. Execution of that threat would turn Bhutan into a very unhappy nation, perhaps no longer a kingdom.).  

The Constitution of Bhutan expects every Bhutanese citizen “to contribute to the protection of the natural environment, conservation of the rich biodiversity of Bhutan and prevention of all forms of ecological degradation including noise, visual and physical pollution.” (Article 5)

The wildlife indicator asks for information on damage to crops.
Respondents are asked to report their worries on four urban issues: traffic congestion, inadequate green spaces, lack of pedestrian streets and urban sprawl. This indicator acts as a substitute for sustainable urban development.

Living Standards
Indicators: (a) Household income (b) Assets (c) Housing quality

This area refers to the material wellbeing of the Bhutanese people.
While we may think of a mobile phone, TV, computer, refrigerator or bicycle as assets, for many Bhutanese, livestock and farming land are the primary assets. Focus group discussions in rural districts concluded that five acres was the sufficiency threshold for a rural family of five people.

The quality of housing is composed of three indicators: the type of roofing, type of toilet and room ratio. Corrugated galvanised iron (CGI) or concrete brick or stone for roofing, pit latrine with septic tank for toilet and two persons per room are the thresholds and all three must be met.

Deeply happy
Having looked at the nine domains and the thirty-three indicators, let us look at the profile of the “Deeply Happy” people in Bhutan, 8.3% of the Bhutanese population. Two thirds of them are male, one third female. 70% live in rural areas, 30% in urban areas. 60% of them are aged 40 or less. 84% are married, and 12% are never married. (Meaning you are unlikely to be deeply happy if you are divorced, separated or widowed. If any of the three, please remarry as soon as possible for deep happiness). 

Of course, the Bhutanese GNH structure is not perfect. A creative person, despite meeting all other indicators, may be unhappy if he is not creating enough. Such instances don’t seem to be covered. However, What GNH does is to try to quantify happiness. In India, as children, we were told that happiness is a state of mind. Now fifty years later, I will dispute that. A terminally ill cancer patient in pain, a worker perennially harassed by his boss, a man wrongfully sent to jail, a chronically hungry person, a flying executive with no time to sleep are all people who can’t be happy. GNH, however subjective, tries to systematically measure happiness so that the individual and the nation can take steps to enhance it.

In a hypothetical survey to measure my own happiness, I found myself not reaching the threshold in artisan skills, not happy with the government performance, living in excessively damaged and polluted environment, and without assets worth talking about. On the other hand, I am doing fine with mental and physical health, time use, education, human interaction, donating time and money and fundamental freedoms. Overall, I score about 80% and can count myself as deeply happy. What about you?

Ravi
Further reading for those interested
This eight page summary offers the results of the GNH research of 2015.
(2)              http://www.oecd.org/site/ssfc2011/48920513.pdf
A 35-slide presentation by Sabina Alkire from Oxford University, made in 2011.
(3)              https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2jf9xrnUjpI
a 12 minute film on GNH
World happiness report. Excellent case study on Bhutan’s GNH between pages 108- 146. The primary source of this article.
The dates for the next GNH conference in Bhutan next month.
Another 100-page authoritative guide.
(7)              http://worldhappiness.report/ed/2017/
The world happiness report inspired originally by Bhutan’s GNH is now produced annually. It is also holistic, but uses different indicators. In 2017, Norway is the happiest country, followed by Denmark, Iceland and Switzerland. The headlines include ‘Chinese people not happier than 25 years ago’, ‘Africa struggling’, and ‘happiness falling in America’. America, ranked 3rd ten years ago, was 19th  in 2016. India fell from 118th to 122nd position.

R. 

Saturday, October 7, 2017

Land of the Thunder Dragon: Part IV


If the government cannot create happiness for its people, there is no purpose for the government to exist. – Legal code of Bhutan, 1729  

A day after meeting the queen, we visited Tashichho Dzong, a grand Buddhist monastery and fortress. It has some thirty temples inside. When a guard noticed we were walking all by ourselves, without a Bhutanese guide accompanying us, he was agitated.
‘Where is your guide?” he asked us.
“We don’t need a guide. We’re happy to just stroll around and see everything.” I said. I prefer to go around museums and temples without guides. Some of them are walking Wikipedia entries.  
“No, that’s not possible. They shouldn’t have let you in.” By now, a small group had gathered around us. I think they understood that an Indian couple with a small daughter didn’t pose a threat to the kingdom. But rules were rules. A policeman was assigned as an escort. He simply walked with us.

On the way out, a very fair Bhutanese lady began talking to us. She was part of the cultural ministry. She had earlier seen the commotion surrounding our guideless stroll. She apologised for the incident. Tashichho Dzong was not only a monastery complex; this is where the Bhutanese government and the king’s office are located. That’s the reason foreigners shouldn’t be wandering here independently.

Later, our discussion turned to the ‘Gross National Happiness’ (GNH), a concept Bhutan prefers over ‘Gross Domestic Product’ (GDP). Raised on the books of Ayn Rand, I began arguing with her. Unless you bring your people out of poverty, what is the point of telling them about happiness? I honestly thought GNH was simply a semantic gimmick invented by a kingdom to pacify its poor people.

‘No, we take GNH very seriously.’ The lady said. She began explaining the science and structure around it. This was the first time I had encountered a serious discussion about GNH.

‘Progress doesn’t necessarily mean happiness.’ She said at the end.
*****
Progress doesn’t necessarily mean happiness.

I believe in empirical evidence. What I see with my own eyes, feel and experience with my own senses is, for me, the best evidence to check any hypothesis.

Most of my school friends and I lived in apartments of 40-50 sq mtrs (400-500 sq ft) in which three generations cohabited. All meals were had sitting cross-legged on the floor. We slept on mattresses laid out on the floor. We squatted on floor-level Indian toilets, a morning yoga ritual in itself. The apartment had no beds, no dining tables, and no commodes. We had not heard the word ‘pizza’, not for the first twenty years of our life. Fruits and vegetables were only organic, because chemicals to inject them were not yet invented. This is how we lived for the first 20-25 years.

Later we evolved, we made progress. We improved our finances, bought dining tables and beds. We installed western toilets, making the posture comfortable. As a result of all that, our children are not as flexible as we were at their age. As children, we never looked at sugar or salt as enemies. Nobody consulted a nutritionist for advice on diet – I even doubt if there were nutritionists then. Now with our great culinary progress, we must watch our weight, cholesterol and sugar.

Until 1980, I didn’t have any kind of phone at my house; neither did most of my friends and relatives. We could land at each other’s houses any time. People were happy with the unexpected arrivals. The next couple of hours were spent in delightful chatter.

Later, phones arrived. First the landlines, then mobiles. Now we don’t go to anybody’s house without calling first. Visiting someone without calling may shock them. (Why has he come without calling? Bad news? Does he wish to borrow money from me? Doesn’t he know I’m busy?) And if we can talk to the person over the phone, why bother visiting? And if we can send a text, why bother calling? As a matter of protocol, we may grudgingly find time to attend someone’s funeral (why did he have to die on a working day?), but visiting him while he is alive is superfluous. 

Until 1972, Bombay didn’t have television. More than fifty children from my apartment complex met in the courtyard each evening and played a variety of games. We had no choice.
Then Bombay became more civilised. Television arrived. Later, incomes improved, and cars became affordable. Now that courtyard is exclusively a parking lot for cars. Children spend the evenings at home on their gadgets, while their parents watch TV.

I studied in my native language. My friends and relatives spoke exclusively in Indian languages. On the streets, you asked for an address in Hindi or Marathi. We listened to Indian music. We sang Indian songs. Girls wore Punjabi dresses or skirts. Their mothers wore sarees. Boys my age wore Khadi tops, carried cotton Indian satchels, and wore sandals or slippers.

Then we made progress. We became more cosmopolitan, more international. We took the best from the West. Now, our children’s first language is English. They sing the same songs that children in Europe or America sing. Irrespective of the gender, they wear t-shirts, shorts, jeans and Nike shoes. Parents pay obscene amounts of money for the kids to attend a ColdPlay concert in Bombay.

In my childhood, there were no water filters. No mineral water bottles. No plastic. Babies were kept clean by the wrapping of a triangular cotton cloth around their waist. Once it was dirtied, the cloth was changed and washed. Then we became civilised. Diapers appeared. Convenient for parents. The thick diapers, made thicker by the kids, are now added to the city’s garbage mountain.

I walked home from school on unpaved roads. Both sides of the roads were lined with trees. Saturday being a half day, school started earlier than usual. The mornings were cold - we always wore jackets or sweaters. And the north of Bombay was a jungle.

Then we began introducing civic amenities. Jungles were replaced by residential towers. As I write this, dozens of trees in my neighbourhood, trees planted in my great-grandfather’s time, are cut down to build a metro for the Bombay citizens. So they can travel to work speedily and comfortably. A tree is cut, and a billboard placed there. It says: “For Bombay’s bright future.”

Now the cars are air-conditioned. Homes and offices are air-conditioned. I avoid looking at the pollution index websites. Sweaters are no longer saleable in Bombay.

Affluence doesn’t necessarily mean happiness. 

When I lived in Russia, my happiness was inversely proportional to the size of the apartments I lived in. My last Moscow apartment had very high ceilings and the maximum cubic feet I have ever lived in. My first marriage came to an end in that flat. It may be a coincidence, but maybe not. The bigger the house, the more isolated each of its occupants becomes.

As we travel in cars instead of walking, we stop meeting people. That is another way affluence makes us isolated.  

During my corporate career, I woke up with an alarm every morning. It didn’t matter what time I went to bed. My alarm was set to make sure I reach the office at a certain time. For the last fifteen years, since leaving my career, there is no alarm in my life. I sleep until I wake up. My income is lost and my standard of living fallen dramatically. But I sleep well, and feel fresh and healthy through the day.

High standard of living doesn’t necessarily mean happiness. 

In my childhood, the base human emotions – selfishness, anger, jealousy, hatred, greed, lust- did not have public platforms.
Now the human race has made miraculous technological progress.

The Selfie has became a phenomenon. Teenagers with selfie sticks, endless poses and facial gestures, take much space on social media. The more social among them take group selfies.
Porno websites are continuously developed; porno channels are available in family hotels. Social media provides platforms to vent anger and hatred. Consumerism is the platform to check the jealousy index. Greed makes an illiterate play on the stock markets.

Negative emotions and self-love definitely existed fifty years ago, but were not so nakedly visible. Thanks to the technological progress; selfishness, anger, jealousy, hatred, greed, lust are out in the open.

Technological progress doesn’t necessarily result in greater happiness.
*****
Since my talk to the Bhutanese lady from the cultural ministry, I have read some literature on “Gross National Happiness.” Certainly since the time the fourth king pronounced this phrase way back in 1972, the concept has been systematically structured and developed.

GDP growth suggests an improved standard of living. Guns sold in America are part of their GDP. Other than the gun-makers and the congressmen they sponsor, I don’t think the expanding gun market brings happiness to anyone. If the Americans were to focus on national happiness, their public policy, politics and work ethic would take quite another shape. As the Bhutanese legal code said in 1729, if the government cannot create happiness for its people, why should it exist at all?

Bhutan’s GNH index has four pillars, 9 domains and 33 clustered indicators. It allows Bhutan to classify each of its citizens into deeply happy/extensively happy/narrowly happy and unhappy. I meant to describe that this week. But I began analyzing the relationship between progress and happiness and got carried away. Next week, I will explain the GNH concept in detail. You may then be able to check the level of your own happiness.

(To be continued)

Ravi