Gross National Happiness
I used to pop out of bed ready to grab the tiger by the tail. I don’t do much popping anymore. Year after year, I increasingly came to rely on my clock radio to raise me from the depths of sleep, that is, until the plug was pulled on my favorite morning program. That villainous deed not only robbed me of a humane wake-up call but also deprived me of the optimistic air that helped set the tone for each workday. Now I endlessly search the electromagnetic spectrum for a station that heralds the dawning day without yelling, inane laughter, or music intent on catapulting me to the ceiling or lulling me into a coma.
On one bleak, sub-zero day, I tried a new frequency that ushered me into my morning shower with the sound of political carping and looping reports of Egyptian protests. Somewhere in the white noise of water rushing over my head, I caught a few incongruous words in an otherwise unintelligible interview: “Shangri-la” and “gross national happiness.” Odd words and ones that kept cycling through my head as I sat at the breakfast table ingesting a bowl of tree bark and counting my grams of fiber. At that moment, the pursuit of happiness, gross or otherwise, seemed a worthwhile endeavor.
Upon arriving at work, I immediately put my time to good use by conducting a Google search for the words in question. Before I could say “Himalaya,” I found the subject of my curiosity was the Kingdom of Bhutan. Perhaps you are better informed, but I knew nothing of this tiny country or its practice of gauging national achievement in terms of GNH instead of GNP. The country even has a commissioner for Gross National Happiness (GNH) who measures the state of contentment based on nine variables and 72 indicators.
I don’t know if the Bhutanese are truly a happier lot, but going to the government’s official web site did put a smile on my face. It’s the first time I’ve ever navigated a home page that allowed me to “point and click” my way from a national penal code to a connect-the-dots puzzle of Tweety-Pie. Perhaps this is one reason why only 4.6% of Bhutan’s population feels frequently frustrated. I also found many pages devoted to operating a business. Yet most were blank except for one statement: “If you have suggestions on what content to put up in this page, you can contact the web development team.” Can anyone say business opportunity?”
Seriously, or not so seriously, I started this column with the aim of writing something light and whimsical. Yet the more I read about Bhutan, the more I realized it isn’t a fairy tale kingdom of gum drops and sunbeams. It is an old culture, with a century-old monarchy that was not without stain. Yet unlike so many autocratic regimes that tenaciously cling to power, the reigning monarch of Bhutan pushed his people to the polls to establish a democracy. And unlike those who fear the corrupting influence of new ideas and technology, the king oversaw the introduction of television, Internet access, ATMs and major credit cards in a period of just 12 years. Far from a quaint curiosity, Bhutan is a daring experiment in managing change. Some observers fear the changes are akin to delivering a crate of snakes to the Garden of Eden. What is clear is Bhutan can no longer count on ignorance as a source of bliss.
Following Bhutan’s GNH in the midst of this controlled collision between all things ancient and new may become an interesting pastime. It has already given me some added options for starting my day, now that I’ve discovered streaming radio Bhutan.
Have a happy (if not profitable) day,
Jeff Irish
