The Four Levels of Happiness^®

Happiness is the only goal that people pursue for its own sake, which makes it an ideal lens for explaining why people and organizations behave as they do. The Four Levels of Happiness model shows leaders how to elevate the powerful drive for happiness and direct it toward shared goals, strong ethics, and great performance. Click here for a full description of the Four Levels.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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The Levels in Action

My Favorite Debacle

I can still remember how thrilled I was when the email arrived in my inbox about 12 years ago. The sender was a Senior VP I’ll call “Jack.” The message was “I like your work. Are you interested in writing some speeches for me?”

At the time, I was on the bottom rung of the company’s management ladder, and the fact that a guy one rung from the top had smiled on me was glorious news indeed. I started doing small projects for Jack, but eventually he gave me a big assignment: the keynote address at a conference that The Economist was sponsoring in London.

As speaking engagements go, this one was dripping with prestige, and I wasn’t averse to using some drops to burnish my own reputation. In the weeks leading up to the conference, it was hard to pass me in the hall without being informed that I had been handed this plum assignment.

There was still the matter of doing the work, which proved a larger challenge than I had imagined. Jack was a “big picture" guy who spoke in fluid generalities. I couldn’t pin him down on precisely what he wanted to say in the keynote address. I desperately needed building blocks, but he was giving me something akin to pudding.

To make matters worse, in the two weeks right before the London engagement, Jack was out of the country and out of touch. With a deadline looming, I rolled up my sleeves and worked as hard as I could. I thought the result was pretty good, and hoped that Jack would concur.

I’d arranged my schedule to be in England that week on another assignment, then head to London to hear the speech in person. Two days before the big event, I finally reached Jack by phone.

At the time, this seemed like the worst thing that could have happened to my career, but it turned out to be a blessing in the long term. It prompted me to make what in retrospect was a very Level 3 decision, though I have to confess I was acting as much from necessity as virtue.

”What did you think of the presentation?” I asked.

“I didn’t find it useful,” he replied. In fact, he had scrapped it and pulled together a SWAT team to write an entirely different speech.

I saw Jack the next day in London at a posh dinner arranged for the speakers at the conference. There were 20 world-class VIPs all gathered around a large table. Jack had kindly secured me a seat before he had seen my best work and deemed it useless.

How on earth do you introduce yourself in a situation like that? (“Hi, I’m John Keenan. I’m the fellow who wrote the presentation your keynote speaker flushed down the toilet yesterday.”) It was supposed to be my first taste of corporate glory, but it turned out be the single most painful dinner I’ve ever endured.

At the time, this seemed like the worst thing that could have happened to my career, but it turned out to be a blessing in the long term. It prompted me to make what in retrospect was a very Level 3 decision, though I have to confess I was acting as much from necessity as virtue.

Instead of pursuing the ego gratification that senior leaders like Jack could bestow, I vowed to make myself useful to as many rank-and-file employees as possible. I built a small group whose primary function was helping employees tell stories, and every day we posted four of these stories on our intranet. Our focus, by and large, was on the exploits of typical colleagues, doing small things well in a way that made the company successful as a whole.

The daily grind wasn’t glamorous, nor were most of the people and projects we chose to spotlight. But by slow degrees, our work acquired a wonderful reputation and a large following. By treating frontline employees like VIPs, I’d become well-known throughout the corporation.

The next time I had dinner with Jack again was two years later. He was at my table the night I received the company’s top award, bestowed for the success of the work I just mentioned.

I knew nothing about the Four Levels back then, but now that I do, the lesson is clear and familiar: If you like the happiness found at Level 2 (and everyone does), aim for Level 3. You’re more likely to acquire Level 2 rewards in a package deal than if you pursue them as an end in their own right.

By John Keenan, editor
 

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Last changed: Jun 03 2009 at 12:43 PM