Ignorance is bliss?
I am reading a wonderful book entitled "How I became stupid" by Martin Page.
It deals with the unhappiness that smart people endure due to their awareness and intellect. The author ties the unhappiness and the intellect together and makes it so that "unhappy" is inherent in the smart.
The point is that if you are aware of the world, you lament it. My sneakers, for example, were they made by child labor? My pesticide-infused produce? The meat I serve my family (too many issues to list)?
All being smart does is gives you more to do than everyone else, more to worry about, more to keep track of, more headaches. Plus the frustration of trying to explain all of the world's wonders to people who are unable
It seems that most people who know tons and tons of stuff are miserable meanwhile, the ignorant are happy.
Are broad huge intellects inherently married to misery and depression? Which would you prefer --- smart and miserable or dumb and happy?