For thousands of years, human beings have imagined perfect worlds, realms where suffering is unknown and the delights of this world abound. Usually, over the centuries, these images of paradise have been tied to religious beliefs; paradise will be the address of the faithful throughout eternity. However, for the most part the faithful have had to rely upon their imaginations to picture paradise.
Today it is different. Because of enormous advances in technology, today most of us see images of paradise dozens of times every day. My previous post pointed to advertising, TV shows, and other sources that show us happy and perfect-looking people and places, encouraging us to believe that we too really should be enjoying paradise, right now. Because of the sheer number of these images, together with their enormous persuasiveness, in our society it is now very difficult to avoid the feeling that we, and the lives we live, aren't quite measuring up.
Your feeling (and mine) that there is something missing in your life, something that stands between you and the level of happiness that you know is possible, makes you an excellent consumer. You (and my wife) are always willing to purchase something new, because of your nagging and ever-present feeling that you need something to fix your imperfect life.
Enter the self-help industry. The fact that so many of us feel that fabulous happiness is possible (we've seen it!) but somehow out of our reach makes it a great time to be writing books that tell people what they need to do to improve things. Now, that does not make self-help books bad. Many self help books offer realistic and helpful advice, based on solid research, that can help readers live more fulfilling lives (A single example). But there are also self-help writers whose suggestions are closer to a form of entertainment, perhaps even to religion, and I think these writers should be recognized for what they are: entertainers and quasi-religious prophets.
How does a reader tell the difference between genuine self-help and recycled utopian fantasies? One word: paradise. Any author who promises a life free of conflict and suffering, or endless abundance, or permanent happiness, is more like a prophet than a therapist. So what? Is there any problem with trying to find a life of utter bliss? That's up to individual readers to decide for themselves, but I think that if you are going to convert to a new religion, you should at least be aware that this is what you are doing.
Peter G. Stromberg is the author of Caught in Play: How Entertainment Works on You.
