Introduction Unhappy is the story of happiness. More than two thousand years ago, when the ancient Greeks first thought about what constitutes "the good life," happiness was a civic virtue that demanded a lifetime's cultivation. Now, it's everybody's birthright: swallow a pill, get happy; do yoga, find your bliss; hire a life coach, regain your self-esteem. We have lost contact with the old and rich traditions of happiness, and we have lost the ability to understand their essentially moral nature. Deaf to the conversation of the ages, we deny ourselves the chance of finding a happiness that is meaningful. We've settled, nowadays, for a much weaker, much thinner happiness: mere enjoyment of pleasure, mere avoidance of pain and suffering. The so-called new science of happiness perpetuates this impoverished notion of the good life. Somewhere between Plato and Prozac, happiness stopped being a lofty achievement and became an entitlement.

We can reject this modern enfeeblement of happiness. We can recover its ancient traditions, the traditions that began in the West with the philosophers of Athens and in the East with the anonymous Hindu sages of the Axial Age. We can, with no exaggeration, call these traditions a secret, so unpracticed, if not obscured, have they become. Yet the secret will not resist our attempt to find it. Over the past decade or so, behavioral scientists, neuroscientists, economists, and psychologists (including a Nobel laureate from Princeton) have been working to measure reported levels of happiness and to identify its causes. Their methods are droll. In one "experience sampling," participants carry Internet-ready palmtop computers twenty-four hours a day. When an alarm sounds on their palmtops, the participants -- who have been trained to respond with Pavlovian mechanicity to aural stimulation -- stop what they're doing and complete an online survey about how they feel about what they've just stopped doing.

Back in the laboratory of happiness, technicians download these data and then plot a graph showing each participant's happiness peaks and troughs over time. In case the guinea pigs have tried to outfox their masters -- pretending to be happier or unhappier than they actually are -- brain scans are used to confirm their testimony. (The participants, it can be revealed, are honest.) What do the surveys say? Sex, no surprise, makes everyone feel better. The second best thing is having a drink after work with your friends. Work itself -- challenging, rewarding, and secure employment -- also contributes greatly to happiness. Commuting, however, makes us miserable. Well, almost all of us; 4 percent of respondents claimed toenjoytraffic jams.

(Who could these people be?) If you believe the statistics, it's pretty easy to make yourself happy: live within walking distance of an enjoyable and secure job, prop up the bar with your friends, and then go home and have sex. Happiness: the secret revealed! Happiness is also a growth industry. Self-help books generate $1 billion in annual sales, and the global market for antidepressants (O true apothecary!) stands valued at an astounding $17 billion. The "desire industry" -- whose titans are Botox jabbers, personal trainers, and lifestyle gurus -- rakes in even more. (So reports the earnestly named Work Foundation.) As a Harvard MBA would say, it's one vast marketing opportunity. At a time when financial prosperity is assured for many, though by no means all, in the industrialized world, happiness has become the ultimate luxury item. But what is this thing called happiness? The scientists and the social scientists do not stop to ask the question because they presume to know its answer.

Happiness is.well, it's just "feeling good -- enjoying life and wanting the feeling to be maintained."1 So say the economists. In the genial patois of the researchers this is called "subjective well-feelin.