A few weeks ago I was attacked in a pub near King's Cross by a drunk spoiling for a fight. Instead of trying to reason with someone unreasonable, I alerted one of the barmen that trouble was ahead. My warning came too late. As soon as the drunk saw me talking to the barman, he lunged at me, shouting "You! You!" He threw me against the wall, my pint glass shattering on the floor as I fell backwards. And then he started to throttle me. I couldn't tell you how much time elapsed (it felt like a long time, but was probably only a minute or so) before some of the other customers finally overpowered him.
Rattled, a bit embarrassed, but not seriously injured, I decided to stay put and carry on drinking. (Plus, the cabaret had yet to start, and that was reason I had come.) Helpfully, the landlord offered me a free pint, no doubt hoping that I would remember his hospitality and forget about suing him for negligence.
As I waited - and waited - for the cabaret to begin (the performers were nervous about putting on a show in what had just become a crime scene), I got to thinking about whether suffering can turn a happy person into an unhappy one. It's an old question. More than 2,000 years ago, the Greek philosopher Epicurus taught that happiness, once we achieve it, is indestructible. He believed that someone who is happy will remain so even while enduring the most unendurable agonies.
That's a bizarre claim to make: how can anyone stay happy when they're suffering? Yet it's not so bizarre if you think about happiness in a different way. If, as most of us probably believe, happiness is about pleasurable experiences and carefree moments, then suffering definitely will destroy it. But if happiness is something more profound - the orientation of your life towards meaning, purpose and value - then it cannot be overthrown by suffering because it does not depend upon any single episode of good fortune. As the great Roman statesman Cicero put it, "happiness will not tremble, however much it is tortured."
As I explain in my book The Secrets of Happiness, there's great modern appeal in this ancient idea. After all, our happiness should be strong enough to withstand the trials, challenges, and traumas that we all face. Do we really want a happiness so fragile that it collapses in the face of misfortune? The philosophers of classical antiquity were on to something when they taught that suffering is not an impediment to happiness. And maybe it takes a little bit of suffering to remember just what happiness is.
What happened to my drunken assailant? He was landed with an £80 on-the-spot fine and then sent home. But I learned later that he works for Royal Mail, and was likely to be sacked for the offence. Call me uncharitable, but hearing that certainly made me happy.
