The Ultimate German Philosophy for a Happier Life

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06-03-2025

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In his day, the 18th-century German philosopher Georg Wilhelm Friedrich Hegel was what we would call a 'celebrity academic,' enjoying top university posts and a wide readership for his books. This might explain some of the hostility that Hegel faced from his contemporaries. Arthur Schopenhauer called his writing the work of a 'clumsy charlatan,' which rendered readers 'incapable of reflection, coarse and bewildered.' His compatriot Friedrich Nietzsche snorted that an education based on 'Hegelian craniums' is 'terrible and destructive.'
Schopenhauer and Nietzsche were largely overlooked during their lifetimes, so professional jealousy no doubt accounted for some of this. But deep intellectual differences also underpinned their animus. Whereas Hegel's critics largely promoted individualism, the famous author of The Phenomenology of the Spirit taught that fitting into society is generally the best path to a good life.
For an individualist like me—a bit Nietzschean in worldview—Hegel's approach might appear unsympathetic. But I have been reconsidering Hegel, and now I think that understanding his arguments for a more communitarian attitude might offer us a nudge toward greater happiness—one we didn't even know we needed.
[Bertrand Russell: Philosophy's ulterior motives]
Hegel is probably best known today for his teleological belief that human history tends toward progress and is guided rationally by Geist, or 'spirit,' a quasi-supernatural force for good. He taught that this progress is slowly achieved through the operation of the 'dialectic.' According to this concept, a grand conversation occurs in three parts—thesis, antithesis, and synthesis—in which one side presents an argument (thesis), another side gives an opposing viewpoint (antithesis), and all of this results in a resolution (synthesis) that involves more nuanced understanding of the issues. This rational reconciliation of differences thus leads to advances—in other words, progress.
For Hegel, the Geist just needs time to work out its logic. Whereas today's political arguments in America might look chaotic and terrible, Hegel might say that we're too close to them. Take the longer perspective and you will see that spirit is placing the hard-edged progressive activism of the past decade in dialogue with the new electoral turn toward Trumpism, and that the synthesis of that dissension will be a more balanced moderation in the years ahead.
Despite ups and downs, Hegelian progress generally grants people greater happiness over time. Yet Hegel also made a startling assertion about when that happiness would be most abundant. 'Periods of happiness are empty pages in history,' he wrote in his Introduction to the Philosophy of History, 'for they are the periods of harmony, times when the antithesis is missing.' In other words, we remember when life is a boiling cauldron of emotions and experiences, but these are not the really happy moments. Happiness comes in the peaceful, unmemorable parts of life.
So how do we get more of this unremarkable bliss? For the answer, in his Elements of the Philosophy of Right, Hegel gives a practical tutorial in dialectics—first offering two common but wrong answers, then the right one. One typical wrong way we search for happiness is what he calls Recht (literally, 'right'), which involves maximizing individual satisfaction or, more colloquially, 'If it feels good, do it.' Hegel argues that Recht leads us to chase one pleasure after another, 'ad infinitum, never [enabling] it to get beyond its own finitude.' In other words, the goal of individual satisfaction is like filling a hole that can't be filled.
The other wrong way that people pursue happiness is through Moralität ('morality'), by exercising their own personal sense of right and wrong. This approach is more in line with the individualism of Nietzsche and Schopenhauer—to quote Polonius in Hamlet: 'To thine own self be true.' Hegel never says that a person's conscience is bad; he simply observes that relying solely on one's own conscience can lead to problems such as loneliness and depression. (If you happen to be someone who insists on speaking up for what you believe is right and have suffered social rejection as a result, you might relate to this.)
For Hegel, the correct answer for peaceful happiness is Sittlichkeit, or 'ethical order,' by which he means prosocial behavior grounded in tradition and custom learned from one's community. As he explains in Philosophy of Right, this ethical order involves striving 'to make oneself a member of … civil society by one's own act, through one's energy, industry, and skill,' thus 'gaining recognition both in one's own eyes and in the eyes of others.' This is where true happiness occurs, Hegel believed, because we succeed in realizing ourselves both as individuals and as members of the community.
For Hegel, then, we will find happiness by participating in the ordinary ways of well-ordered civil society. That means not dashing from excitement to excitement, pursuing your own goals to the exclusion of others' well-being, or expressing yourself in a way that offends people. It means fitting in, conducting yourself ethically, with your family, community, and country.
[Arthur C. Brooks: How my struggle with Wittgenstein can make you happier]
Modern social scientists have shown that this argument about Sittlichkeit is sound. The social capital one has as an active member of the community strongly predicts one's happiness. Even so, to some people's ear, Hegel's conception of the good life may sound very conservative or reactionary. Just fit in! he seems to be saying.
As an Emersonian individualist myself, I recoil from such a command. How many times in history have people just gone along with what civil society deemed right and proper, not consulting their own consciences, in order to maintain a private happiness at the expense of what is just? The result can be dangerous, even barbaric, and sometimes, you have to sacrifice your personal happiness for what is right.
But I also see how this misses the way that Hegel's philosophy can help a natural individualist like me. His injunction about synthesis and ethical orderliness can be a valuable corrective for a tendency to seek big experiences at the expense of the moments of peace, and an egotistical tendency to disregard the wisdom and desires of the community in favor of my own opinions. I like to use Hegel's ideas in the form of a simple set of questions to help temper my nature. Perhaps this checklist can be useful to you as well.
1. Where can I find happiness in the ordinary, unremarkable points in my life? What gifts am I overlooking because they are not bright and shiny, although they are beautiful in their smallness? Perhaps this is a peaceful evening at home, a quiet walk before dawn, or a little contemplation over a delicious cup of coffee.
2. Am I looking for a lift in my mood today from my personal ambitions and primal drives? This is Mother Nature with her false promise that satisfying this or that urge will give me the satisfaction I seek. Instead, what individual desire can I shed today?
3. Am I asserting my views in a way that ignores others or is disrespectful to their dignity? Am I attached to my opinions as if they were precious jewels? How can I let go of my own rightness today and listen with love more to others?
4. How might I balance my own needs and desires with those of my family and community today? How can I be a better spouse, a better parent, a better colleague and friend, and a better citizen?
If you're anything like me, there's little danger that the fire of your individualistic nature will be extinguished by this interrogation. Instead, it should just sand down your edges a bit, make you more cognizant of your strong self-focus. With that awareness to keep you in check, you might just find yourself happier as a result.
[Ralph Waldo Emerson: American civilization]
The work of any philosopher is subject to many possible interpretations. This is especially true of Hegel, whose prose is famously dense and elliptical—just ask Nietzsche or Schopenhauer—and no doubt, my brief account of his thought will earn plenty of disagreement. After all, Hegel himself is said to have remarked: 'Only one man ever understood me, and he didn't understand me.'
But even on this point—about his resistance to intelligibility—I discern a useful Hegelian lesson for a better life. The goal is not to be understood by the world but to understand the world as best we can and participate in our human community with a spirit of love.
Article originally published at The Atlantic