Given America's shift into positive-psychology overdrive, a thoughtful critique of this solipsistic grasping is welcome. Alas, Mr Wilson's is not that critique. Instead, it is an angry, emotional and often repetitive attack on a host of targets, including consumer culture (“happiness through acquisition”), the church (“happiness companies”), politics (“we blithely cheer its increasing demise”) and, most of all, those bland, robotic happy types, with their “paper-thin minds”. But who are these heartland Americans who are unable to feel pain and sadness? How did he find them? The author's self-serving indictment seethes with malevolence.

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