What does a person’s ideal life look like?

I have some reservations about the desire to strive for an ideal life ...

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What does a person’s ideal life look like?

Your question raises two fundamental issues:

  1. Is there an objective standard by which we can measure the quality of a human life?
  2. Should we strive for the best possible, ideal life?

All these questions are discussed in philosophy under the heading of the ‘good life’, though we sometimes also speak of a ‘fulfilling’ or a ‘happy life’. These different terms reflect our aspiration not simply to live our lives in any old way, but to shape them in such a way that we can regard them as a good life.

Is it possible, then, to give a general answer to the question of what constitutes a good, happy or successful life? Here, two positions can be distinguished: an objectivist one and a subjectivist one.

The objectivist position assumes that we can make generalisable statements about what constitutes a good human life. It therefore answers ‘yes’ to the question of whether there is an objective standard against which we can measure the quality of a human life. Proponents of this position often emphasise human rationality and the social nature of human beings. Accordingly, part of a good life involves people realising their rational potential and forming social relationships. However, goods such as health or contentment can also constitute elements of a good, happy and fulfilling life.

An important characteristic of this position is that it can take moral concerns into account as part of the good life. We therefore do not have to choose between a good life and a moral life. On the one hand, this is appealing because morality is not imposed on us from outside, thereby jeopardising our good life. On the other hand, it also points to a difficulty. In everyday life, we often see a potential for conflict between a good, happy life and the demands of morality. One reason for this is that, in everyday life, we understand ‘happiness’ to be a feeling, and this feeling does not necessarily relate to morality. Even if we can concede that our neighbour is happy when she goes for drives in her expensive sports car, we may still morally disapprove of her driving. To put it more generally: different things make different people happy, and these things may well be morally questionable.

This aspect is emphasised by proponents of a subjectivist position. They assume that we all strive for a good, happy life, and they understand ‘happiness’ to mean a pleasant feeling. However, because very different things make us happy in this sense – depending on our needs, interests and abilities – they argue that there can be no objective standard for the good life. We cannot, therefore, define for everyone what constitutes a good life. To put it bluntly: the question of the good life boils down to a matter of taste. Whilst some find happiness in the fight against global poverty, others find it in gaming or making music.

Even though, according to the subjectivist position, there are no general substantive criteria for what we (should) find happiness in, its proponents can certainly offer advice on what we need to bear in mind in order to lead a good life. In this respect, they do not differ from their objectivist colleagues. Thus, we should probably not focus solely on short-term happiness, but ensure that our own lives are as happy as possible in the long run. This brings us to the second question.

If we are interested in a good life, it stands to reason that we are interested in the best possible life. By this I mean an ‘ideal life’. Yet, on the one hand, it may not be necessary to strive for an ideal life; on the other, it might even be counterproductive.

The first point is familiar to us from various religious traditions, which set out an ideal that only a few people can live up to. For instance, not everyone can live in a religious order or as a hermit. Even if such ways of life are exemplary, they are not meaningful or appropriate for everyone. It may well be sufficient, in general terms, to lead a life that is good enough.

The second point suggests that, in our endeavour to lead an ideal life, we might actually miss out on the ideal life. Firstly, human life is so multifaceted that we might overlook its richness if we focus on a particular standard or value. Secondly, our desire for an ideal life risks destroying precisely what we are seeking. The reason is as follows: our deepest feelings of happiness are often linked to doing or achieving something valuable for its own sake. Spending time with friends or giving a challenging concert enriches us and makes us happy because we value both for their own sake. However, if, for example, we want to spend time with friends because we hope it will lead to a better or happier life, we may be missing the point entirely. We undermine the value of spending time with friends by viewing it as a means to happiness. This points to an interesting aspect: happiness rests on other things, and we cannot strive for it directly. Thirdly, there are many aspects of our lives over which we have no control. If our expectations are too high, this can lead to disappointment. It is precisely this last consideration that has led some schools of thought and philosophical movements to recommend expecting as little as possible from life and freeing ourselves as much as possible from our own interests, desires and hopes. But that would be throwing the baby out with the bathwater. We would do better to seek the answer to the possibility of disappointment in a sensible approach to our interests, desires and hopes rather than in abandoning them entirely.

These reservations regarding the pursuit of an ideal life are not absolute, nor do they dispute that we can use the question of the ideal life as a guide. However, they do point out that there is something problematically seductive about it.