The Health Benefits Of Being More Optimistic — And A Path To Get There

BERLIN — November 2004, a dull gray day. Across from me in a Berlin newsroom sat Olaf, about 50, a seasoned editor. I was 19, an intern fresh out of school. At the morning meeting, the Christmas schedule came up. “On the 24th, I’ll be sitting here like every year, processing all the misery in the world,” Olaf remarked.

That moment stuck with me. I told myself I must never end up like Olaf. Cynical, hardened, apparently lonely. And pessimistic. Twenty-one years later, it pains me to admit: I am not (yet) a full-fledged Olaf, but when it comes to pessimism, I am following a similar path.

Part of it has to do with my profession. Olaf had a point: journalists are always on the front lines of human suffering. Wherever something happens, we cover it. We dive deep into the pandemic, the war in Ukraine, Donald Trump, October 7, Gaza, right-wing extremism, Islamism, mass shootings, femicides. We follow humanity into its darkest corners every day.

These shadows weigh on everyone. People are turning away from the news because they cannot bear the world anymore. In recent years this trend has only grown stronger, amplified by social media. But it is about more than so-called “news fatigue.” Surveys show that a clear majority regularly report a bleak outlook on the future, both personal and political. Pessimism, it seems, has become a mass phenomenon. Why is this happening? Can it be reversed? And what would that take?

Research suggests that it absolutely must be reversed. It is about more than outlook or morality: what is at stake is living as long and as healthily as possible. A study published in Psychological Science, for example, shows that optimism is linked to a stronger immune system. Similar findings have appeared for decades; as early as the 1980s, researchers showed that heart patients recovered faster after surgery if they were more optimistic.

Increasing optimism can reduce the risk of premature death.

Alongside individual studies, there are also large meta-analyses. A 2021 analysis by a team led by Australian psychologist Heather Craig looked at 25 studies with 217,000 participants and found that a pessimistic outlook increases the risk of death. Pessimism is associated with higher inflammation, elevated blood pressure and heart rate, accelerated aging, and lower survival rates from serious illnesses such as cancer.

“Psychological interventions to increase optimism and reduce pessimism can reduce the risk of premature death,” the authors concluded. At the same time, they stressed that optimism and pessimism should not be seen as opposite ends of a spectrum, but as independent traits.

But how can an inner attitude affect the body so profoundly? “Our expectations influence our bodies,” says Winfried Rief, professor of clinical psychology and psychotherapy at the University of Marburg. One of his main research areas is somatoform disorders, physical complaints with psychological causes. His work has shown that the outcome of treatment, even in heart surgery, depends heavily on a patient’s expectations, which can also play a role in other areas such as the risk of depression.

Realistic optimism

Rief’s central message is this: physical and mental health cannot be separated from mindset. The placebo effect makes this especially clear. In one study, participants received a mild pain stimulus on their hands after researchers had applied a cream. One group was told the cream was for pain relief, while the other was told it was only for measurement purposes. The first group reported no pain, and measurements showed that only a weak pain signal was transmitted from the spinal cord to the brain. The second group, however, felt pain and had a significantly stronger signal in the spinal cord.

The consequences of an optimistic or pessimistic outlook are physically measurable. Research also shows they have a powerful psychological impact. Realistic optimism is linked to a lower risk of depression, helps people cope with trauma, improves relationships and life satisfaction, and reduces social isolation. Hopeful people are also more likely to succeed professionally because they have more drive and confidence. A telling example comes from sports: in one study, when researchers handed golfers a club they claimed had belonged to the professional Bernhard Langer, the golfers performed better than a comparison group given a standard test club.

One explanation is that a positive mindset helps dissolve inner barriers such as fear of failure, which in turn influences performance. Yet the effects of optimism and pessimism are more complex than that. In their meta-study, Craig and her colleagues identified several mechanisms that give optimists an advantage: they pay closer attention to their health, eat better, exercise more, smoke less, and avoid negative thought patterns. All of this lowers stress and benefits blood pressure, heart rate, and heart health overall.

Pessimism as a driving force

So it really is worth working on one’s attitude. And I genuinely want to become a realistic optimist. Yet I sense a strange tension within myself. I know the world is improving in many ways, despite everything. Infant mortality is declining, there are fewer wars and fewer people live in extreme poverty, to name just a few examples. Personally, I am doing very well: everyone is healthy, my relationship is fulfilling, the children are wonderful, I have many (and some close) friends, and my job is (mostly) enjoyable.

When I think about why I still often fall back into pessimism, I recall my parents’ constant arguing. When people grow up surrounded by conflict and the occasional crisis, they generally do not expect the best from the world, psychologist Rief explained to me. This is particularly true in personal matters. The math test will almost certainly be a disaster. Getting into the dream university probably will not happen. The declaration of love will surely go unanswered.

Strangely enough, this outlook has worked in my favor so far. My pessimism pushes me forward: if you constantly expect setbacks, you prepare especially well for them. In the extensive literature on the subject, I realized that this makes me not quite a typical pessimist. Pessimists usually view the world negatively without drawing any conclusions from it. The result is passivity and resignation, which in turn bring the physical and psychological downsides mentioned earlier.

My mindset fits more with defensive pessimism. This is not blanket pessimism but tied to specific situations. “Deliberately low expectations serve as a strategy to avoid anxiety,” wrote psychologists Julie K. Norem and Nancy Cantor in a study. Defensive pessimists prepare meticulously for challenges and thereby boost their performance because they assume setbacks are inevitable. “Anxieties are thus made productive,” the psychologists note.

That sounds better than the average gloomy pessimist, on the one hand. On the other hand, being a defensive pessimist is exhausting. How wonderful it must be to simply go with the flow. “It will work out somehow”: how do you learn that?

Pessimists are doomed from the start.

Giovanni Maio encourages me to pursue that question. “Pessimists are doomed from the start,” warns the medical ethicist from the University of Freiburg. They expect failure, which, unlike the defensive strategy, immediately creates a negative outcome. Maio should know, since confidence and its effects are one of his fields of research. He takes a more theoretical, history-of-ideas approach to the issue.

I object that few things are more irritating than overly optimistic people. “Cancer? War? Crisis? It will all be fine!” Surely that cannot be it. Does this reference to so-called toxic positivity not push the champions of optimism to their limits?

“I do not believe in blind optimism if it means unshakable faith in a good outcome,” Maio says. True hope, by contrast, is always realistic. In the case of a cancer diagnosis with a likely fatal outcome, it is wrong to simply hope for a miraculous cure. Hope must instead mean finding the strength to accept the situation and make the best of the time that remains.

“The hopeful person knows: even if things go badly, I have inner resources that will help me endure the hardship,” he concludes.

Spurred on by Maio’s reflections, I turn to parts of the history of ideas on this topic. Optimism and pessimism already occupied the minds of the ancient Greeks. The Stoics, for example, saw peace of mind as the highest good, with confidence emerging from a rational way of life and the acceptance of what cannot be changed. One should not be ruled by external events but by one’s inner response, advised Marcus Aurelius and others. For Aristotle, confidence was even the essence of courage: one acts despite fear. A virtue!

In the Middle Ages, confidence shifted toward God. Human self-efficiency was pushed into the background by divine agency and the promise of a just and beautiful world to come.

The two world wars ultimately shattered confidence. “Can one still hope?” was the question that followed the crimes of the Nazis. The philosopher Ernst Bloch answered it in his 1954 work The Principle of Hope, where hope is portrayed as humanity’s central driving force. In daydreams, fantasies, art, and culture, “concrete utopias” take shape, creating the foundation for the possibility of a better world in the present. Or put more simply: it is worth getting out of bed in the morning, because things really can turn out well.

How to become an optimist

Bloch’s brand of optimism, however, seems to have faded today. Medical ethicist Maio sees at least a shift away from grand notions of hope in politics and society. “People are retreating to private micro-hopes because they no longer dare to believe in the bigger picture,” he observes. This too is a form of resignation, brought about by polarization, wars, and disasters.

Maio’s criticism of micro-hopes strikes me as justified, and yet I understand the tendency. Confidence in small things feels more attainable in a world that is unpredictable and increasingly hard to grasp. From a history-of-ideas perspective, I also feel close to the Stoics. Peace of mind, that has a nice ring to it.

So the bad news is this: over time, pessimism builds up. The good news is: it can be unlearned. But how? Especially if you have been on the other side for decades. “The key is to look ahead with an open mind: no matter what happens, there will be a future I can shape and fill with meaning,” advises medical ethicist Maio.

Psychologist Rief adds: “Talking and reflecting are important, but action is even more important.”

All of this sounds wise and reasonable. And I want to put it into practice. From the studies, the conversations with Rief and Maio, and the history of ideas, I’ve extracted a mini to-do list:

1. Try to be stoic: can I actually influence the things that trouble me? If not, I try to think about them less.
   
2. Formulate micro-hopes: that difficult conversation I must have afterwards will go well, the editing colleagues will appreciate the text, and I am glad if they come true.
   
3. Keep a short diary: every evening I write down three (even very small) things that were pleasant or went well.
   
4. Try new things more often, especially if they take me out of my comfort zone, even in small ways.
   
5. Deliberately take breaks from the world’s horrors, focus on the here and now, and stop reading exclusively texts about world events and journalism.
   

The steps are small, admittedly. They will not be enough to quickly undo years of ingrained patterns. But after six weeks of fairly disciplined application, I at least feel more relaxed—and above all, more aware: I keep my composure more often and stop overthinking possible difficulties and situations sooner.

So you could say I am on my way to becoming an optimist. And Olaf?

At the end of my research, I try to find out what became of him. I come across an abandoned Facebook account, but otherwise, his digital trail ends in the late 2000s. Is that a good sign or a bad one? I sincerely hope he has finally found his way back to optimism. Better late than never.