To be happier, be brave, not reckless – Arthur C. Brooks

“You would never believe it. It’s like a wonderful nightmare ”. This is how Bill Gorton, the veteran drinker of Fiesta (The sun will rise again), Ernest Hemingway’s 1926 novel, describes the running of the bulls in Pamplona, ​​Spain. Every year, at 8 am on 7 July, six adult bulls (accompanied by six oxen) chase some local youth called guys (and a not inconsiderable number of foreign tourists, attracted by the way Hemingway recounted that party) through the streets of the city to the arena, where the animals are destined for bullfights later in the day.

If this ancient ritual seems dangerous to you, it is because it is: since 2005, at least 78 people have been gored, some deadly. Most of them were foreign tourists, who had often partyed all night before running with dull eyes along the unknown cobblestone streets, in front of fast, aggressive animals weighing more than a thousand kilos. And the point of the matter is precisely the danger. To hear Hemingway – and to see the streets fill with about a million tourists every year – few things are more thrilling than trying to outrun the bulls, risking your own life.

The running of the bulls may seem ridiculous to you. But this tradition offers each of us a lesson in how to expose ourselves to a little danger. The real one, not the fake one like roller coasters and witch houses. If you need to feel more alive, to increase your courage or to see what you are like, doing something to get you out of your safe zone could be the solution. Perhaps this systemic shock does not carry a danger like running with the bulls; perhaps learning to ride a Vespa, saying “I love you” or giving a speech in public may be enough. In any case, a bit of fear and danger, experienced on purpose, can create a bit of magic.

A state of flow
Risk-taking in itself can be a noble cause. In 2012, for example, some scholars who interviewed practitioners of dangerous sports, such as hang gliding and whitewater kayaking, found that their motivations include excitement, goal achievement, strengthening friendships, proof of personal abilities, and the overcoming of fear. Some extreme sports athletes describe the experience as sacred, or indescribable in words. It may even be that they manage to enter a “state of flow” a condition in which, without effort, one feels completely immersed and totally in control of the situation.

But sometimes risk-taking can be a sign of trouble. People who, for example, find normal activities uninspiring may seek sources of stronger sensations in dangerous pastimes, even at risk of self-harm. These are known as “sensation seeking people” and tend to have low amygdala responsiveness, which means that their response to conflict or flight is attenuated. They also present attenuated responses to stress and fright, and underestimate the likelihood of negative outcomes. People with low amygdala activity are more likely than others to jump off the plane or tease dangerous animals, and also to use dangerous substances, such as drinking alcohol until light-headed.

People who take risks for the right reasons may be thought to be brave, while those who do so in an attempt to remedy their low level of arousal are reckless. Scientists were able to distinguish these two types of people using brain scans. Brave people generally have a normal limbic system (the one where the amygdala is) and they feel fear, but they strive to overcome it. Reckless people, usually with unregulated limbic activity, fail to recognize the danger and are therefore oblivious to the risks. There is no doubt that many of the people who run with bulls are brave, but there are also reckless among them.

Hemingway wrote about running with the bulls because he had done it in 1923 at the urging of his colleague Gertrude Stein, and he found it absolutely refreshing. Ironically, Hemingway himself is not a good example of positive risk-taking: he was a thrill seeker with a self-destructive past of dangerous binges.

As much as some people love the risk – be it courageous or reckless – the happiness they derive from it tends to occur after taking the action. In 2019, researchers studying downhill mountain bikers found that cyclists claimed that this sport gave them a lot of happiness. But their happiness was lower during the activity than before or after it. The emotion seems to derive more from the idea of ​​having done something risky than from actually doing it. In other words, it is possible that you will be happy to have run with the bulls, but during the run you will probably just be very scared.

When done right, engaging in something a little dangerous can increase courage and happiness. Done badly, it’s just plain stupid and risks hurting us or even dying. Here are some guidelines for applying this concept to your life.

When it comes to happiness, your extreme sport may not technically be a sport. Of my three grown children, two skydiving to challenge themselves (like me), while the other thought it was an idiotic idea (like my wife). But the latter son will marry next month at the age of 24, a decision that to many of his peers seems scarier than anything that’s happening in Pamplona today.

Think about the things you are putting off or that you feel you can’t do, and that might be possible with some real courage. Perhaps the challenge that awaits you is a physical one, such as bungee jumping, or maybe it’s social or emotional, like telling someone your true feelings or taking seriously a change in the workplace that is necessary for you. Perhaps it is a question of returning to study or leaving a city where one has lived all one’s life. If it seems both possible and terrifying to you, you will know that you have found the right thing.

Nelson Mandela once said: “I have learned that courage is not the absence of fear, but the triumph over it. The brave man is not the one who is not afraid, but the one who overcomes fear ”. These are soothing words spoken by a man who can teach us all about taking risks for the common good. But the question remains: how can I overcome my fear?

The first step is to imagine doing the thing that scares you, and how you will feel if you take that risk. This will get you used to the idea and make it less repulsive.

Think clearly, however, using your conscious brain to reason, and not just the amygdala to perceive sensations. In some cases the chances of failure are so high and the consequences so terrible that the act is imprudent. If you don’t know how to climb, don’t try to do it without protection on El Capitan mountain. In many cases, however, visualizing your white whale will lead you to understand that the chances of catastrophe are extremely low or that, even if things go wrong, they will not end in the death of anyone (for example if you confess your love). .

After reading my column on the Camino de Santiago in northern Spain, a reader contacted me to tell me that she had decided to do it: the whole walk of a month and eight hundred kilometers, not just the light version of a week that I had done. . For her it was a personal challenge that went against the image she had always had of herself: that of a person unable to cope with strenuous physical activity and pain.

My advice was to plan the trip a year in advance to have time to study, read history and philosophy texts and, most importantly, get back in shape. If you want to increase your happiness by taking a risk, you need to do it right, and not just by acting on impulse. Research shows that happiness and impulsiveness are largely incompatible. Furthermore, making a plan allows you to savor the contours of the person you want to become: a person who does a difficult thing of his will, precisely because it is difficult.

Skydiving is fun, but I understand it’s not my Pamplona. It didn’t scare me at all. Come to think of it, I don’t think running with the bulls would scare me too much either. It’s not that my amygdala is on tilt, however; physical damage is simply not a source of anxiety for me. Professional bankruptcy, on the other hand, does.

Changing jobs and careers every ten years or so is my extreme sport. When I left my career as a musician to become an academic, I felt completely insecure and scared. But the stress strengthened me and ultimately gave me more confidence in knowing how to make the next career change in the future. When I left academia to run a large non-profit organization, I didn’t have the same fear, because I believed I could develop the skills needed for my new career. After all, I already had.

Go ahead and peek through the door you are afraid to open. A group of angry bulls may come out, eager to chase you down bad roads. But your best self may be there with them.

(Translation by Federico Ferrone)