Religion is subject to the keenest dialectic, politics to endless debate. The methods by which our parents raised us are scrutinized from atop leather couches, but in this enlightened age of so much skepticism there lies a certain innocent, little notion that goes unchallenged: the pursuit of happiness.

It is written in our most sacred national document, the title of a major motion picture and the life directive to which most of us cling. We have heard its song sung countless times, “you’ve got to do what makes you happy!” “If it makes her happy, who am I to judge?”

It is the same advice, from careers to girls: if something isn’t making you happy it must be wrong; perforce, leave whatever makes you unhappy and pursue that which does. This life directive seems so simple, kind and free. It allows each person the chance to define a life for themselves. Some may even call it the American dream, but in it lies a profound danger to the ethics of our lives.

Most of us operate in a mode of motivated existence that is inseparable from the pursuit of happiness.

For some, the passions of each moment are sufficient to keep them scurrying about with prying eyes and busy hands. For others, those deemed “responsible,” their passions are a bit more long term. They are more passionate about a larger future than an instant gratification of momentary desire, but make no mistake, it is passion that drives them forward.

This mode of existence may result in part from the affluence and freedom of our society. We are blessed with the time to contemplate our passions and the freedom to pursue them. On other continents, in darker jungles than Black Engineering, the pursuit of one’s survival seems to outweigh the pursuit of one’s happiness.

Even many religious persons are far more motivated by passion than their secular counterparts; except that their passion lies toward emotional religious experience rather than material or sensual happiness. We do not often dare to challenge our own passions, for when we do we experience a breakdown of the will.

The thinking goes as such: I go to college because it makes me happy. I date a cute girl because she makes me happier than an ugly one. I get good grades because having a job in the future will ensure my happiness. I groom myself because positive attentions make me happier than negative attentions.

The logic seems faultless. Indeed it is insofar as we operate in a safe, ideal world where passions are never opposed and never ugly. But if you look out your window you’ll notice that this is not the world we live in. Suddenly, by nature of the presence of our fellow man and the scarcity of substance, happiness creates a dipole.

Two different men would be most happy with the same girl alone, but she cannot be with both. There is only one of her. Another man finds his happiness when he relieves the emotional burden of his stressful job by beating his wife with cold, meaty fists. She finds her happiness in taking care of him, believing he will change, and knowing that her love will prevail. Happiness has begun to sound a bit twisted, far too twisted to form the core of personal ethics.

Being so enamored with happiness, an addition to our life directive is made, and it becomes: I will pursue my happiness insofar as it does no harm to others. But this is simply more of the same shifting sand. How do we hurt others? Physically, emotionally? Directly or indirectly? I would be far more content sitting in the sun doing nothing rather than being productive or helping someone else. It makes me happy, and hurts no one.

But what of the opportunities lost? Is not helping the same as hurting?

We may come to conclude that the source of the problem lies in happiness as a moral directive, not the application thereof.

Sadly enough, the alternative these days to the open declaration of living for one’s own interests is to find a religion or morality that, however flexibly, maximizes our happiness or allows us to live out that hidden directive.

We are not Christians because we want to have premarital sex; we are not Mahayana Buddhists because we want to eat meat, so we settle for something in between, something more “open.” Something we regard as more thought through, more reasoned: a higher, more personal religion or ethics by which we live.

But how often, if we look at the core of our beliefs and their structures, do we find they are based on satisfying our basic want of personal happiness? Unfortunately, discovering one’s sense of right and wrong takes a bit of thought, a lot of feeling, and is often done by trial and error.

But let us not waste time scurrying about between the crumbs of happiness like ethical roaches not giving the least bit of thought where the crumb-trail may lead. Instead, let us strive to know and understand a morality and ethics that brings justice and mercy to ourselves and others alike, and creates a vindication of life in the face of death, of sacrifice for something larger than self amid the doldrums of desire.