A genie appears to me and says I can choose. I can have knowledge and an increased understanding of science and the world. Do as I was doing before I fell apart a few months ago, only with a lot more success- be a scientist. But, if I do that, I’ll be unhappy. Whether it’s the increased understanding of the world that makes me unhappy or some other factor, I won’t be happy.
Or else, I can give up my knowledge of some of the intricacies of science. Be a woman of faith. Go live on my island with my little family and we’ll worship the sun and be hunter-gatherers or something, but be happy. Wake up smiling every morning.
I honestly don’t believe anyone would actually choose to be depressed over being happy. People who claim to prefer knowledge over happiness fail to realize that the reason for this is that the knowledge makes them happy.
All that really happens is that intelligent people prefer lesser happiness based on knowledge to greater happiness based on ignorance.
In general I’ve found I’m happier when I understand what’s happening. On the few occasions where that news was particularly bad (the pre-divorce antics of my first wife, for instance) I became happier once the condition was changed. Understanding means things make sense and life tend to be more predictable, and predictable means I understand how stuff works, and that means I know the limits of my control, and that reduces stress. And that makes me happy.
I will stand with our allegorical ancestor, and gulp down the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge. So what if it means toil and pain to live, we can* do *something about mitigating that, and it keeps us looking forward to improving things even if marginally. Contented, fulfilled bliss is for the afterlife or the Millennium, if either exists, and I’m in no rush to get there.