When the Indian Institute of Technology Madras (IIT-M) announced its collaboration with the Rekhi Foundation for Happiness to establish the Rekhi Centre of Excellence for the Science of Happiness, the news invited both curiosity and contemplation. The centre, housed within the department of management studies, aims to blend scientific research with philosophical inquiry to help students cultivate positivity, build emotional resilience, and lead purposeful lives. While this initiative is certainly promising, it raises a set of profound questions. Can happiness be taught? Can people truly learn to be happy?
These questions are hardly new. Philosophers, theologians, and, more recently, psychologists and neuroscientists have grappled with the nature of happiness. What makes the IIT-M initiative remarkable is its attempt to institutionalise happiness as a subject worthy of structured academic inquiry and practical intervention. Yet, in doing so, it invites scrutiny of not just happiness itself, but of the deeper social, cultural, economic, and psychological frameworks that influence its pursuit.
At the centre lies the question: what is happiness? Is it a transient emotion, a stable personality trait, or the cumulative result of a life well-lived? Classical thinkers offered divergent perspectives. Aristotle defined happiness as eudaimonia, a flourishing life of virtue and purpose. John Stuart Mill, shaped by the utilitarian tradition, equated it with maximising pleasure and minimising pain. Indian philosophical traditions, on the other hand, emphasised that happiness lies beyond material acquisitions. The Bhagavad Gita extols action without attachment as the path to peace, while Buddhism suggests that the cessation of craving is essential to contentment.
Modern psychology, particularly the branch known as positive psychology, attempts to define happiness through the PERMA model—Positive emotion, Engagement, Relationships, Meaning, and Accomplishment. This framework sees happiness not as a singular emotion but as a composite of life experiences and practices that support well-being. If happiness is indeed this multifaceted—emotional, moral, psychological, and spiritual—can it be taught in a measurable way?
Interestingly, there is a growing body of empirical evidence suggesting that it can. Interventions focusing on emotional resilience, gratitude, mindfulness, and purpose have shown promising outcomes. Yale University’s ‘Science of Well-being’ course, taken by over 3.5 million people worldwide, reports measurable improvements in participants’ happiness. Closer home, the Delhi government’s happiness curriculum in schools has showed structured efforts can help young learners improve emotional regulation and interpersonal relations.
These programmes combine behavioural science, mindfulness, emotional intelligence, and reflective practices. They promote not just understanding but transformation. In that sense, happiness is not about absorbing content, but cultivating habits and mindsets. Still, studying happiness doesn’t guarantee it, just as learning about love doesn’t necessarily help cultivate the ability to love. Yet, if happiness is a lifelong pursuit, perhaps the value lies more in the journey than the guarantee.
India’s low rank—118th out of 147 countries—in the 2025 World Happiness Report makes the relevance of such efforts stark. Despite GDP growth, rising inequality, high unemployment, poor work-life balance, and environmental degradation significantly impact well-being. A 2022 Deloitte study revealed 63 percent of Indian professionals feel burnt out. Mental health issues remain poorly addressed, and rapid urbanisation continues to erode traditional community bonds.
Against this backdrop, placing a happiness centre within a department focused on business and management—a field often associated with material gain—may seem ironic. But perhaps it is also symbolic. It may signal a recognition that the pursuit of success without well-being is ultimately unfulfilling, and that the purpose of education should evolve to promote human flourishing alongside economic competence.
The IIT-M initiative’s strength lies in its attempt to bridge western and Indian paradigms. Western thought often focuses on individual fulfillment, while Indian traditions emphasise inner equilibrium and communal harmony. Each perspective holds value; together, they offer a richer framework. A robust curriculum on happiness must blend neuroscience with yoga, and emotional literacy with ethical reflection. Still, some questions demand careful attention. Can happiness be standardised, especially given its subjective and cultural dimensions? Can the same institutions that generate stress also cultivate joy? Is there a risk of commodifying happiness? And who benefits most—individuals, or institutions seeking increased productivity under the guise of wellness?
Countries that rank consistently high in happiness—like Finland and Denmark—succeed not merely through personal development, but through social trust, economic security, and ecological mindfulness. India’s happiness movement must be both personal and political. Educational institutions like IIT-M can lead by example, but the broader transformation must include public policy reform, urban planning, healthcare, and labour rights. Teaching happiness must go hand in hand with creating conditions that support it.
Finally, can happiness be taught? Yes—if we define teaching as cultivating empathy, resilience and purpose, not just imparting knowledge. Happiness is not a credential to earn, but a way of being. The IIT-M initiative may not solve India’s happiness crisis, but it opens a space to rethink the role of education—not just to produce skilled professionals, but to nurture whole human beings.
John J Kennedy | Former professor and Dean, Christ (Deemed) University, Bengaluru
(Views are personal)
(johnjken@gmail.com)