Happiness is knowing that we simply can't win

CAN it be true, that life may get better, after all, as the years roll by? A survey finds that the happiest time in our lives begins at 50. Stress, anger and worry fade, it claims, after 50 years on the clock, when we begin experiencing greater daily joy than younger adults.

It may indeed be true, though its causes must remain unknowable. We might consider that greater maturity and experience bring peace and serenity. Alternatively, it may be simply that the gin takes less time to percolate through to the brain or the after-dinner malt closes our eyes more readily.

Happiness is the result of a quiet surrender to the barbarities of life, an acceptance of a truth, obvious from the start but shut out by pride, that the things that irritate and upset are bigger than we are. A numbed armistice settles in, a form of Carthaginian peace. What is the point of fighting the odds and punching the air with rage when we can sink into the armchair with the acquired wisdom of humility and let our imprecations slowly bubble out of us like dribbled milk? Happiness is the word we give to many states. Not least of them is what is called in high academic parlance "emotional intelligence", but which we know better as defeat.

Bring on the cardigan and the warmed-up slippers. It's simply "rockin' on" by other means.