All human life goes into the search for happiness

Well, say one and all, we knew that already, thank you. But then the article went on to temper the excitement by revealing that Jersey ranked 15th in the world for

happiness and friendliness – four places ahead of the UK.

It just so happened that in the same week we were, or should have been, celebrating World Happiness Day. The fact that it coincided with the UK Budget might have rubbed off some of the gilt, but it was the first day of the vernal equinox, the beginning of spring, and on cue daffodils in the fields were lifting up their heads after the unseasonable snowy blanket that covered them.

At the Town Hall that evening, St Helier Constable Simon Crowcroft was presenting awards to winners in this year’s Eisteddfod festival of creative arts, which, having been displaced from the Royal Jersey Showground by the previous week’s blizzard, was still able yet again to display a ray of sunny artistic talent of local participants of all ages.

In between times, we have been told that Jersey has been voted second after Orkney for British Islands to visit. We’ve also had a crisp, bright Easter to accompany the Christian celebration of new life and regeneration, and despite the cold we have feasted off its commercial counterpart on chocolate eggs, smiley bunnies and fluffy chickens.

So what accounts for happiness, and what do we mean by it? What is it that lifts our spirits above the daily fight to make ends meet, subdue pain and look forward with the anxious anticipation that once lit one of the faces on Fry’s Five Boys chocolate bars?

Is it being surrounded by our natural coastline, sea views and unspoilt countryside? Is it experiencing an easy (if expensive) life-style, low crime figures, a sense of physical isolation from the troubles being played out in other parts of the planet?

Insularity is indeed a comforting protector, though it does inspire isolation, which in an increasingly global community is probably illusory. Moreover, living the good life could hold a risk. Too much, and you could reduce resilience. As Dickens observed in Martin Chuzzlewit: ‘ There’s no merit in cheerfulness when everything is going well.’

True character emerges in adversity, they say, which may account for the universal fascination of how the Island coped in the dark days of Occupation.

WE are faced with a bit of a dilemma, aren’t we, when places like Cyprus, Greece, Italy, Spain – all the locations we traditionally look to for a relaxed life-style – find themselves characterised as failing countries, just because their financial management is suspect. Even la belle France is being accused of lacking the moral authority to put its own home in order.

It does pose a question about the criteria. Surely we’ll continue to hanker after their laid-back attitude, sunshine and cuisine, even if we may not actually want to go and live there or adopt their currency.

The apoplectic headlines that were bandied around when the UK lost its Triple A credit rating from the imperious Moody’s Investors Service gave the impression of a nation about to nosedive into what we used to call South American banana republic accountability – I guess these days, the allusion has a more relevant European resonance!

But all those grim faces at Westminster and in the City, and so soon after all national exuberance of the 2012 Olympics and God Save Her Majesty.

So what can we aspire to in order to haul ourselves closer to Norway at the top of the happiness ladder? Certainly, despite the unseasonably cold snap, we are cushioned against the arctic blizzards that caused such disruption in the UK. We enjoy enhanced life expectancy, even despite our costly health care service and creaky benefits system which is bailed out by the strength of the third force of local volunteers who pile in with hands-on support, where communities elsewhere pay through the nose for municipal advisors and jobsworths.

We exhibit an Island pride and a resilience which combat the war of attrition from mainland politico-financial envy and bullyboyism. All this despite the high cost of essential commodities and vulnerable sustainability in the face of the natural elements and ‘just-in-time’ supply chains.

There has always been the ‘money in your pocket’ argument to support a positive and healthy diagnosis of a nation’s well-being. Disposable income certainly offers life-style choices, but can be divisive. It is no substitute for natural environment or the beauty of personal achievement, nor is it much use if there is little that is attractive to spend it on.

You might have the most beautiful shop in the world, but if you haven’t got anything to sell, there’s not much point opening the doors, which may account for the success of the much maligned internet.

And as the world itself becomes more sad and less colourful, with individuals increasingly anxious about their existence, stuck in front of screens from cradle to grave and trammelled wherever they turn with restrictive regulation, there’s a glow in knowing that you don’t have to commute three hours a day and the furthest you can be from your home fire is less than a ten-mile walk.

But lest we become complacent, there are tensions afoot. The run-up to the referendum on the States make-up has exposed unease with how the established order has been maintained. And since things are unlikely to change radically after 24 April, we can’t rule out more disaffection in paradise.