Whether in the arts, science, professional life or family life, all our actions stem from a desire to attain that which makes us happy. In other words, everything the human being does is, even if unconsciously, a search for happiness. Sometimes that happiness lies in the very act of seeking; at other times, in the result obtained. Whenever there is an end beyond the action, that end is considered higher than the action itself.
It is within this horizon that Aristotle, in the Nicomachean Ethics, affirms: every human action has a purpose, and the ultimate end of all our acts is happiness (eudaimonia). For him, to be happy is the same as to live well and act well. Unlike passing goods such as money, health or fame, happiness is something absolute. We do not seek it as a means to another achievement, but for its own sake. It is the supreme good, which gives meaning to all our choices and guides life as a whole. Therefore, it consists in a life guided by the exercise of what is most proper to us: reason.
It is not enough, however, to have happy moments. Happiness requires an entire life of good actions, accompanied by minimal conditions, such as health and basic resources, which make the practice of virtue possible. It cannot be understood as something immediate or fleeting: it demands constancy, effort and right choices throughout the whole of one’s existence. In this sense, Aristotle distinguishes the ways of understanding happiness, showing that not everyone recognises its true nature.
Understanding what happiness is
Although everyone agrees that the ultimate purpose of life is to be happy, not all understand happiness in the same way. The ordinary person tends to identify it with immediate pleasures, riches or honours. The wise, however, perceive that true happiness is not summed up in passing goods, but must be rooted in something deeper, capable of giving meaning to all the other goods.
To clarify this difference, Aristotle analyses the forms of life to which people devote themselves. The life of pleasure, the most common, seeks immediate enjoyments such as food, drink and entertainment. For the philosopher, this is a “bestial” way of living, because it reduces the human being to the level of instinct, depriving him of what distinguishes him: reason. There is also the political life, founded on honour and the practice of virtue, which is higher but insufficient, since honour depends on the opinion of others and even virtue does not suffice to secure full happiness in the face of great misfortunes. The life of gain, centred solely on wealth, is even more limited, for money is never an end in itself but only a means to other goods. Finally, Aristotle points to the contemplative life as the highest, because it is founded on the exercise of reason. In it, the human being turns to what is most proper and noble, finding a happiness that does not depend on chance nor on the approval of others, but on inner cultivation and the conformity of the soul with truth.
The debate with Plato
It is precisely from this valuing of reason that Aristotle distances himself from his master. Plato defended the existence of a Good in itself, eternal and perfect, the cause of all particular goods. Aristotle recognises the beauty of the idea, but considers it insufficient for practical life.
According to him, the term “good” is used in many ways: it can signify opportunity in time, proper place in space, virtues in quality or usefulness in relation. There is no way to unify all these senses in a single abstract essence. Moreover, even if there were a universal Good, it would be useless in concrete life.
A doctor does not heal by contemplating the Idea of the Good, but by treating a specific patient; a general does not win wars by meditating on the Good in itself, but by developing strategies for his troops. The true object of ethics, therefore, is not a distant and abstract Good, but the human good that is realisable, that which we can pursue and bring about in our practical life.
Happiness and human destiny
Aristotle recognises that the fortunes of descendants and friends may have some repercussion on a person, but only in a weak way. If we believed that everything that happens to others decisively affects someone’s happiness, we would fall into the absurd, for life is full of countless events impossible to measure.
Therefore, a person’s happiness does not depend on the fortune of others: what happens to friends may have some effect, but it does not rob the blessedness of the just. Happiness, then, is stable and is not shaken by external fluctuations.
In this context, Aristotle asks whether happiness should be praised, like courage or justice, or whether it occupies a higher category. Praise, he explains, is always relative to an action or virtue; happiness, however, is not a means but an ultimate end. We do not therefore say that happiness is to be praised, but that it is blessed. Just as we call the gods happy, happiness is celebrated as something divine and perfect, the source of all other goods.
The soul between reason and desire
If happiness is the activity of the soul according to perfect virtue, it is necessary to understand the very structure of the soul. Politics, in this sense, is not merely a technique of power but a science of virtue, and therefore requires the study of the soul.
Aristotle distinguishes in it a rational part and an irrational part. The irrational part is divided in two: the vegetative, linked to nutrition and growth, common to all living beings; and the appetitive, responsible for desires and passions which, although irrational, can obey reason. It is from this obedience that moral virtues arise, such as temperance, courage and justice. Intellectual virtues, such as wisdom and understanding, belong properly to the rational part.
Human life is therefore marked by this tension between reason and desire. The incontinent person allows himself to be dominated by impulses; the temperate person educates them so that they submit to reason. From this harmony virtue is born, and it is in the practice of virtue that the soul finds its fullness.
Between chance and virtue
Another question then arises: is happiness the fruit of learning, of habit, or of a divine gift? Aristotle admits that, if the gods grant any gift to human beings, happiness would certainly be among the greatest. Even so, even if it is the fruit of the formation of the soul and the exercise of virtue, it remains something divine, for it constitutes the prize and the ultimate end of human life.
This means that happiness is not the privilege of a few. Anyone, provided he is not impeded from living virtuously, can attain it with study and discipline. It is nobler to be happy by merit than by chance, for to entrust to chance that which is highest would be imperfect. Hence happiness is not luck, but the crowning of virtue. This view excludes animals and children: the latter can only be called happy in a figurative sense, by reason of the hope placed in them. For Aristotle, happiness requires not only complete virtue but also a complete life, in which the constancy of the soul is proven in the face of the vicissitudes of time.
Conclusion
Aristotle rejects both vulgar illusions (pleasure, wealth, honour) and the Platonic abstraction of the Good in itself. For him, true happiness is not a distant ideal, but a possible path, built in the exercise of reason and virtue. It is the rational and virtuous activity of the soul, accompanied by pleasure, sufficient in itself, yet supported by minimal external conditions.
Thus, happiness is the supreme good that gives unity and meaning to the whole of human life, the destiny towards which all our actions, whether conscious or not, are oriented.
Between Pleasure and Virtue in literature
To speak of happiness, for Aristotle, is to speak of the ultimate end of human life: that which gives meaning to all our choices. But how can we translate such a dense reflection into images? Literature, with its symbolic power, offers characters that lay bare in vivid fashion the paths and deviations of the human search for the supreme good. This is why we turn to Alice, from Lewis Carroll’s classic Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, and to Odysseus, Homer’s Odyssey.
These two characters represent distinct stages of the human relationship with happiness. Alice symbolises the immaturity of a soul that runs after momentary pleasures and curiosities, always restless, without clarity about what it truly seeks. Odysseus, in contrast, expresses the maturity of one who knows his ultimate end, the return to Ithaca, to his family, to his home, and holds firm to this purpose even in the face of temptations and suffering.
By bringing these two stories close to Aristotelian reflection, we find in them more than fantastic or mythological adventures: we see mirrored the human condition itself. Alice and Odysseus help us understand how pleasure, honour, virtue and, finally, contemplation are articulated in the search for happiness. They are literary images that illuminate philosophy and make palpable what, in Aristotle, might seem merely abstract.
The life of pleasure vs the life of honour
Aristotle claims that the life of pleasure is the most common, but also the lowest, because it reduces the human being to the level of instincts. It is the life of those who live in pursuit of momentary sensations, without a horizon of stability. Alice, in Lewis Carroll, is a perfect portrait of this condition. Bored in the real world, she runs after the White Rabbit believing she will find something more interesting. But what she finds is a world of absurdities, full of meaningless parties, endless banquets and characters ruled by disordered passions.
The Mad Tea Party well represents the prison of the immediate: a repetitive cycle in which there is fun, but no true purpose. The Queen of Hearts embodies the tyranny of the passions, governed by irrational anger, which prevents any rational orientation. The White Rabbit himself is the image of anxious, unstable pursuit, always in motion yet arriving nowhere.
Alice experiences pleasures, lives curiosities, but remains restless. Her constant question — “Who am I?” — shows that pleasure is not enough, for it provides neither identity nor meaning. Aristotle would say that Alice lives the life of pleasure: a youthful, immature existence, in which the ultimate end has not yet been recognised.
In contrast, Aristotle points to the political life, founded on honour and virtue, as higher than pleasure, yet still insufficient. It is proper to those who seek recognition and dignity, and Odysseus, Homer’s hero, embodies this path well.
Throughout the Odyssey, Odysseus is celebrated for his cunning, courage and leadership. He desires to return to Ithaca not only for love of Penelope and Telemachus, but also to reassume his kingship and restore order in his household. Honour and duty guide his journey. Unlike Alice, who runs after pleasures and curiosities, Odysseus keeps his goal clear. He resists the Sirens, refuses Calypso’s promise of immortality, overcomes shipwrecks and battles, because he knows what he seeks: his homeland, his family, his dignity.
Nevertheless, Aristotle warns: the life of honour is not sufficient, because it depends on the eyes of others and can be shaken by suffering. Odysseus shows this fragility. Although virtuous and honourable, his happiness is not complete while he remains far from Ithaca, subject to the chance of the sea and the will of the gods. His life is grand, but unstable.
The life of gain: false goods along the way
Another way of life that Aristotle criticises is the life of gain, which reduces everything to the pursuit of wealth. Money, he says, is never an end in itself, but only a means.
Here both Alice and Odysseus offer contrasting images. Alice, as she is dazzled by magical objects, cakes and potions that make her grow or shrink, shows how material goods can be illusory: useful for a moment, yet without lasting value. Odysseus, by refusing endless banquets and the gifts of foreign kings, shows that the true goal cannot be confused with accumulated riches. In both Alice and Odysseus, the Aristotelian message is confirmed: material goods are transitory and only make sense if subordinated to a greater end.
The contemplative life: the supreme good
Aristotle reserves the title of highest life for rational contemplation. In it, the human being turns to what is most proper to him: reason. Contemplation is not passivity, but the soul’s fullest activity, in harmony with truth.
Neither Alice nor Odysseus fully attains this stage, but both point towards it in different ways. Alice, in her confusion, finds a contemplative glimmer in her encounter with the Caterpillar, when she is asked: “Who are you?”. This moment of pause and reflection breaks the race after pleasures and curiosities, introducing the germ of philosophy: the need to know oneself and to order desires by reason. Odysseus, for his part, embodies this dimension more fully. His fidelity to Ithaca and his constancy in the face of suffering show that he has learnt to distinguish means and ends, subordinating the passions to a higher purpose.
Contemplation, however, goes beyond honour and homecoming. In Aristotelian terms, it is the life in which the human being finds stability, not in the opinions of others nor in passing pleasures, but in the continuous exercise of reason, which gives meaning and unity to all the other pursuits.
Between Alice and Odysseus: immaturity and maturity of the soul
Alice and Odysseus are, then, two mirrors of Aristotelian theory. Alice represents the immature soul, lost among desires and curiosities, always restless, without clarity about the supreme good. Odysseus, by contrast, represents the mature soul, which knows what it seeks and holds fast to its purpose even amidst shipwrecks and temptations.
Aristotle would say that the difference between them lies in the education of habits. Those who live at the mercy of passions, like Alice, have no foundation for understanding what is just and noble. Those who, like Odysseus, have learnt to discipline desires and to be guided by reason, find in ethics a sure guide to attain true happiness.
For this reason, Aristotle concludes that happiness is not a matter of chance, but the crowning of virtue. It lies neither in Alice’s instability nor merely in Odysseus’s honour, but in the rational and virtuous life that unites constancy and wisdom. Alice warns us of the danger of dispersion in passing pleasures; Odysseus inspires us with fidelity to an ultimate end. But it is Aristotle who reminds us that true happiness is realised only in contemplation, the highest activity of the human soul, which gives meaning and unity to the whole of life.