“For reasons I have never understood, people like to hear that the world is going to hell,” Historian Deirdre McCloskey. The first time I read this, I disagreed. People like good news, right? We want to think positively… but the more I looked around, the more I realised McCloskey was onto something.
Morgan Housel, author of The Psychology of Money, puts it simply, “Optimism sounds like a sales pitch. Pessimism sounds like someone trying to help you.” At some point, you have most definitely heard the phrase, “Be positive”. Now, depending on the day, you have either shrugged it off, felt even more irritated, or smiled and nodded politely. But what does being positive mean? What does it look like? In this “Age of Cynicism”, where does “being positive” fit in – and should it?
People often think that positivity and optimism are synonymous, but the distinction matters. Positivity is the momentary practice of maintaining a good attitude, choosing encouraging thoughts in the present. Optimism is subtler and more enduring. It is grounded in reality: the belief that things may go wrong, but that improvement and meaning are still possible. Both require effort, but surprisingly, both tend to work for you.
We live in a world of eccentric presidents, war, climate change, and widening inequality – a volatile, uncertain, and politically charged society. It feels almost intelligent to succumb to the idea that optimism is futile. The belief that self-interest drives people, that institutions are failing, and that trust is eroding has had an unexpected effect: it has made pessimism seductive. Gloom seeps into our feeds and quietly settles in our subconscious. Pessimism masquerades as realism, and when someone says “The world is going to be okay”, we scoff; when someone says “The world is going to end”, we feel understood.
Part of the problem is that optimism has terrible marketing. It is often packaged as forced cheerfulness – smiles without substance, slogans without depth. It feels naïve and ineffective. But optimism, when grounded in reality, is none of those things. In fact, optimism has tangible effects.
First, it boosts self-confidence. Optimistic people tend to view obstacles not as dead ends, but as challenges to navigate. They take failure less personally and are more willing to engage with difficult tasks. This mindset increases self-efficacy – the belief that you can influence outcomes in your life. Interestingly, people with higher self-confidence often physically take up more space: their posture is open, their movements assured. Next time you see someone stride through campus, they may not be the most charismatic or the cleverest. Perhaps, they are simply the most optimistic.
Second, optimism affects the body. Studies show that optimism lowers cortisol (the stress hormone) and reduces reactivity to acute stress. Optimism is associated with a lower risk of heart disease, better blood sugar regulation, and healthier cholesterol levels. It even strengthens immune responses, leading to less severe illness. Impressively, research suggests that optimists live, on average, 11-15% longer than pessimists. Want to make it to ninety? Crack a smile now and then.
Finally – and perhaps most remarkably – optimism rewires the brain. Thanks to neuroplasticity, repeatedly visualising positive outcomes changes the way your brain processes information. Optimistic thinking increases dopamine, serotonin, and oxytocin, improving mood and reducing anxiety. When you train your brain to expect good outcomes, it begins to notice them more readily. Optimism, it turns out, is an underrated cognitive tool.
“For reasons I have never understood, people like to hear that the world is going to hell.” After reconsidering optimism, I hope you will not have to agree.
