The study of happiness has exploded over the past 25 years, expanding into something that now permeates everyday life. Workplaces build programs around it, with mindfulness sessions and “chief happiness officers”. Schools try, with mixed success, to integrate emotional and social wellbeing into their curricula. On the personal level, we have books and apps and journals that promise more productive days and calmer minds.

This is, by and large, a genuine step forward. It reflects a cultural shift toward taking psychological health more seriously, not only as an individual concern but also as an institutional responsibility. And yet, one of the strongest findings in the wellbeing literature has been largely ignored, despite the fact that it consistently produces some of the most reliable results. We are doing ourselves a serious disservice by leaving it out. It’s a bit like everyone obsessing over the perfect diet while ignoring all the research on physical activity.

The Missing Ingredient

So what is this missing piece? It’s actually simple (simple, yes, but easy to mess up). One of the most reliable ways to feel better ourselves is to make someone else feel better. We know this from personal experience: when we genuinely help a colleague or client, when we finally get through to a student, when we support a friend and can tell it mattered. These moments feel good for a reason. Decades of research back this up. Helping others is one of the strongest drivers of motivation and one of the most dependable sources of personal wellbeing.

Why We Keep Overlooking It

Why then do we overlook it? In a nutshell, because we give too much weight to the Self and not enough to the Social. In much of Western culture, happiness is framed as an individual project, something we’re expected to create and protect on our own. The message is everywhere: care less about what others think, protect your boundaries, manage your energy, put your own oxygen mask on first. To be sure, boundaries matter, burnout is real, and there are moments where you should secure your own oxygen mask first (reduced cabin pressure for example).

But the downside of this cultural tilt is that helping others ends up looking optional at best or dangerous at worst, rather than central to how human wellbeing actually works.

Related to this is our assumption that “giving too much” leads inevitably to burnout. But giving isn’t the problem. The problem is the way we often give.

Three conditions make almost any activity feel energizing rather than draining: 1) We want to feel we’re choosing to do it. 2) We want to feel reasonably competent. 3) We want to feel connected to others in the process. These are the core psychological needs in self-determination theory: autonomy, competence, and relatedness.

Test it for yourself. Think of something you genuinely enjoy and something that weighs you down (admin, anyone?). Chances are, the enjoyable activity meets all three needs. The draining one is missing at least one, often more.

How Helping Works

Helping works the same way. When it feels forced, confusing, or removed from others, it feels heavy. When it supports our sense of autonomy, competence, and relatedness, it honestly becomes one of the most energizing things we can do.

This also explains why some acts of helping are less satisfying than we hope. Donating money may lack any real sense of connection. Hosting family for the holidays may feel like less of a choice. Volunteering for the school fundraiser may not tap into your strengths. These don’t mean you are ungenerous, rather they simply are missing the psychological conditions that make helping feel good.

So what do we do with all of this? The answer is much simpler than people expect. We find a way to make someone else feel good, and we do it in a way that actually fits us. The three needs from self-determination theory can be built into almost any form of contribution if we let them guide us.

Contribution, Done Better

What does this look like in practice? It’s a kind of make-your-own-cupcake volunteering, shaped around your own interests and concerns. If you love chess, set up a weekly open game in the park or at a retirement home. It’s your choice, it draws on something you’re good at, and it naturally creates a sense of connection. If you enjoy gardening, bring a few cut flowers to work on Mondays and leave them on someone’s desk. If you play guitar, sit at a bus stop for half an hour and play simply to make the morning a little lighter for whoever passes by. These are small things, but they meet the psychological needs that make any activity feel sustainable, and they give someone else a lift, which in turn gives you one.

Plenty of people already do versions of this without naming it, often without realizing why it feels good. They simply stumbled into the right shape of contribution for them. We need more of that, and we need to make it easier for people to find. (Which is a large part of my work here, and at Maac Lab).

A More Complete Model of Wellbeing

And on a broader level, we need to update our mental model of wellbeing to take this seriously. We need to understand other-care not as something that jeopardizes self-care, but as something that can be a vehicle for it. Contribution is not an optional extra. When it’s done in a way that fits us, it becomes one of the most dependable ways to steady ourselves, lift our mood, and feel more grounded in our own lives. A healthier model of wellbeing would make space for that reality. It would take seriously the idea that making someone else’s life a little better, under the right conditions, is often the most effective thing we can do to feel better ourselves.