The Courage to be Happy

Have you ever felt trapped by the expectations of others—by a boss’s judgement, society’s standards, or even your own past mistakes? The Courage to Be Disliked by Ichiro Kishimi and Fumitake Koga offers a radical answer: you can be free, happy, and independent right now, simply by changing the meaning you give to life. Through a dialogue between a wise philosopher and a troubled young man, the authors reinterpret Alfred Adler’s psychology into an empowering philosophy of everyday living.

Life is Simpler Than You Think

The philosopher begins by confronting the young man’s core frustration: life feels impossibly complex and unfair. But what if the world isn’t complicated—only our perspective makes it so? Drawing on Adler's core idea, Kishimi shows that each of us lives not in an objective world but in a subjective one, defined by the meanings we assign to events. Like well water that stays at eighteen degrees year-round yet feels warm in winter and cool in summer, the temperature remains constant; perception changes everything. In this sense, your world depends not on what happens to you, but on how you interpret it.

Freedom From Past Causes: The Teleological View

The book’s central tension pits Freudian determinism—the belief that people are slaves to past experiences—against Adler’s teleology, the view that humans act toward self-chosen goals. The philosopher argues that trauma doesn’t determine who you are; only the meaning you attach to events does. A person isn’t shut in because of past pain, but chooses isolation to achieve a present goal—perhaps avoiding rejection or demanding attention. This reversal of cause and effect reclaims free will. You can decide what your experiences mean. (Compare this with Viktor Frankl’s Man’s Search for Meaning, which also insists that meaning, not circumstance, defines personal strength.)

All Problems Are Interpersonal Relationship Problems

From this premise, the philosopher introduces Adler’s boldest statement: “All problems are interpersonal relationship problems.” Loneliness, inferiority, anger—each stems from how we relate to others. When you compare yourself, crave recognition, or fear judgement, you craft an enemy out of other people and out of yourself. Understanding this shifts self-hatred and envy into social terms: reality isn’t an inner struggle but a misunderstanding between selves. It’s an invitation to separate what’s truly your task—how you live and act—from other people’s opinions.

The Courage Theme: Choosing Happiness Over Approval

Ultimately, Kishimi and Koga define courage as the willingness to be disliked. To live freely, you must accept that people may reject you. Social approval chains us to other people’s tasks—to their expectations, fears, and value systems. Happiness demands the bravery to define yourself on your own terms. (Note: Similar to Brené Brown’s argument in Daring Greatly, vulnerability—the courage to stand in imperfection—is the true path to joy.)

Freedom Through Separation of Tasks

Kishimi introduces a revolutionary concept central to Adlerian therapy: the separation of tasks. Ask “Whose task is this?” and set boundaries between what you control (your own choices) and what you don’t (others’ emotions, reactions, or recognition). For example, the philosopher tells the young man he is not responsible for his parents’ disapproval of his career path; their sadness is their task. This insight frees you from emotional dependence and reveals that true freedom begins when you stop intervening in others’ lives—and stop letting them intervene in yours.

Community Feeling: Human Worth and Connection

Rejecting vertical hierarchies, Adler advocated “horizontal relationships”—ties between equals. The book teaches that praise and rebuke both belong to vertical manipulation systems. Instead, we should build mutual respect and gratitude, expressing encouragement through words like “thank you” rather than “good job.” When you treat others as comrades rather than superior or inferior beings, feelings of inferiority evaporate.

Happiness as Contribution

The culminating message is stunningly simple: happiness arises not from success, wealth, or recognition but from contribution—feeling you are of use to someone. Whether you’re working, raising children, or simply being present, your very existence affects others. A bedridden grandfather, the philosopher says, is of worth simply by being alive and evoking care and compassion. When you shift from asking “What do I get?” to “What can I give?”, you step into freedom. Happiness, then, is the feeling of contribution.

Why It Matters Now

In a world driven by social comparison and the pursuit of likes, Adler’s century-old message feels more urgent than ever. The Courage to Be Disliked dares you to trust yourself, stop seeking validation, and rebuild your life around personal meaning and connection. It’s not an invitation to isolation but to authenticity—to live fully, pursue freedom, and find happiness in the present moment, regardless of past or future.

You probably believe personality is fixed—'that’s just how I am.' The philosopher dismantles that myth. Adler's view defines personality as a chosen lifestyle, not an inherited trait. Your behavior and worldview—how you see yourself and the world—are decisions continuously made and remade. Around age ten, Adler suggests, we unconsciously choose our way of living; by reexamining this lens, we can remake ourselves anytime.

Lifestyle as Choice

Lifestyle encompasses both thought and action—the mental blueprint we use to interpret reality. When the youth protests that his pessimism and self-doubt are unchangeable, the philosopher counters: your lifestyle wasn’t imposed; you adopted it because it served a goal. For the unhappy person, remaining miserable may protect against fear or responsibility. As long as your suffering feels safer than change, you ‘choose’ it.

The Decision Not to Change

People stay stuck not because they cannot change, but because they keep deciding not to. Comfort—even unhappy comfort—feels secure. The philosopher compares it to driving an old, rattling car: you know its quirks, so you stay behind its familiar wheel instead of risking a new one. Change means uncertainty, and we fear that.

Courage Over Ability

Here lies the key distinction. Your unhappiness isn’t due to incompetence or an unlucky past—it’s due to lacking courage. Courage, Adlerian psychology says, is the willingness to choose differently and face the anxiety of the unknown. The philosopher closes: 'We do not lack ability. We just lack courage.' A challenge and an invitation to move forward.

According to the philosopher, loneliness, anxiety, even self-hatred are rooted in relationships. Human problems arise only in the social context—because being human means living among others. In Adler’s terms, every personal issue reflects an interpersonal tension.

The Mirror of Others

The youth insists that people suffer 'alone' inside their minds. The philosopher refutes this: you can’t feel lonely without someone to miss, nor inferior without someone to compare yourself to. Inferiority and envy are relational distortions. Even your self-criticism is borrowed from other people’s expectations.

Interpersonal Relationships as the Core

Adler went further to say that isolation or withdrawal—from work, friendship, or love—is rooted in evasion of these social tasks. When you fear rejection, you cite your flaws as excuses. The philosopher calls this a 'life-lie': staying stuck because it’s easier than risking real connection. (This parallels Erich Fromm’s idea that true freedom requires overcoming fear of relatedness.)

Freedom Through Relationship Clarity

Recognizing that all suffering connects to relationships reframes both psychology and daily life. You can stop blaming circumstances and start focusing on how you engage with others. Solitude then becomes not loneliness—but freedom from coercion and the beginning of genuine community.

If you constantly worry about what others think, you live their lives instead of yours. The philosopher teaches a practical tool—ask: 'Whose task is this?' You’ll find that most emotional burdens belong elsewhere.

Defining Tasks

Studying is the child’s task, not the parent’s. Whether your boss acknowledges your work or someone likes you—that’s their task. Your task is how you act; their response belongs to them. Mixing these up leads to manipulation and constant anxiety.

Freedom from Interference

When you intervene where you shouldn’t, you create frustration. The philosopher’s story of parents pushing children to study shows this: coercion only breeds rebellion. Support, not control, helps others take ownership. You assist, but you never intrude.

The Gateway to Peace

By separating tasks, you stop being dragged by emotion and expectations. This simple question dismantles guilt and restores inner calm. Freedom isn’t an abstract state—it’s the daily practice of letting others feel their feelings while handling your own.

The philosopher shocks the youth by declaring: 'One must not praise, and one must not rebuke.' Why? Because praise, like punishment, creates vertical relationships—judgements from above. True communication should be horizontal.

The Pitfall of Praise

Parents who say 'Good job!' to children subtly imply hierarchy—a capable adult passing verdict on an incapable child. Praise manipulates; it teaches people to perform for approval rather than act from intrinsic value. The philosopher compares this to animal training that relies on carrot-and-stick conditioning.

Replacing Manipulation With Equality

Instead of praise or rebuke, Adler recommends encouragement. Horizontal relationships focus on mutual respect—'thank you' replaces 'good boy.' Gratitude acknowledges contribution without judgement. You affirm the person’s effort, not rank them. (In educational psychology today, this aligns with positive discipline methods that emphasize cooperation over control.)

Why Encouragement Works

Encouragement empowers because it says: you are of value as you are, and your choices matter. It regains self-worth lost through comparison. For the youth obsessed with others’ opinions, this concept becomes a revolutionary antidote.

Freedom, Adlerian psychology teaches, is not freedom from others—it’s freedom from needing recognition. To live freely, you must accept the risk of being disliked.

Freedom’s Cost

We chase approval because it feels safe. Yet, satisfying everyone means lying to yourself, pleasing ten people at once, and losing authenticity. Like a politician drowning in promises, we win temporary acceptance and lose our soul. Real freedom carries a cost: rejection.

Choosing Authenticity

You can’t avoid dislikers—but you can decide their opinions aren’t your task. Whether someone dislikes you belongs to them. When you accept that, you start living without masks. 'Freedom,' says the philosopher, 'is being disliked by other people.' Rather than nihilism, it’s self-respect—the courage to affirm yourself even when standing alone.

Freedom and Happiness Interlinked

A life run by recognition traps you in servitude; a life led by inner conviction brings joy. Freedom’s weight is heavy, but bearing it makes happiness possible. Be willing to walk the path of authenticity, even if some turn away.

The book culminates in Adler’s concept of community feeling—living as part of a universal fellowship. This isn’t about conforming; it’s about contribution and belonging.

Equal but Not the Same

Horizontal relations mean equality among distinct individuals—'equal but not the same.' Whether a CEO or a parent at home, your worth is identical, because human value isn’t measured in status or income. Once you stop ranking people, inferiority complexes vanish.

Contribution as Compass

When you face confusion or despair, Adler offers a guiding star: 'I contribute to others.' This ideal doesn’t demand self-sacrifice; it signifies purpose. A teacher who educates, a worker who serves, even an ill person who elicits compassion—all contribute. The philosopher’s image of his grandfather, injured in war yet still inspiring kindness from strangers, embodies this truth.

Assigning Meaning to Life

Adler’s final insight—that life itself has no inherent meaning—releases us from metaphysical burdens. Meaning is not found; it’s given. You create it moment by moment, like dancing through the present. Contribution and courage transform existence from chaos into rhythm.