Capitalism works. It pulled humanity out of its intrinsic state of poverty and tribal violence. Moreover, it did it at breakneck speed compared to the rate of historic human progress with the result being prosperity unthinkable for most of human history. In light of these facts, what could possibility be wrong with the system that achieved this? The problem is that it worked too well.

Given the levels of wealth in the West, it’s not hyperbolic to say the average person in Britain or Ireland has a better quality of life than any feudal king that ever lived. And this is only a relatively recent development as well.

From antiquity to roughly the 17th century there was only minimal change in terms of standards of living. During this timeframe most people lived difficult lives as subsistence farmers in squalid conditions. Following the Enlightenment and specifically the Industrial Revolution, living standards by all conceivable metrics from life expectancy to political freedom increased at an astounding rate. Radical ideas such as universal human rights and economic liberty allowed societies to flourish.

Yet despite unparalleled living standards, we see increasing political upheaval, social unrest and rising rates of depression and suicide. To highlight one example, a recent study from the US, the wealthiest nation in history, found that between 2007 and 2015 the rate of children going to hospital for suicide attempts had doubled. This alarming trend of severe unhappiness seems utterly paradoxical given how much easier and more comfortable people’s lives are today. But therein lies the problem. Comfort and convenience don’t necessarily make people happy. In fact, this can undermine people’s contentment.

Quite often, getting everything you ever wanted is the worst thing that can happen to you. The lottery winner who ends up wishing they never won their fortune is a tragic cliché. Social scientists conclude that once someone earns over $75k, there are diminishing returns to overall wellbeing. When basic financial concerns are reliably covered, then additional income largely becomes disposable income for luxuries – which can ironically bring all sorts of other problems.

Removing all struggle, physical and figurative, inevitably leads to apathy and isolation. Worse still, it can incentivise other darker impulses. It is unsurprising that middle-class millennials fill the ranks of militant political movements like Antifa and the Alt-Right, and more often than not these recruits have deep-rooted existential angst. It shouldn’t be a complete surprise that some people will readily pursue conflict and radicalism rather than live pleasantly dull existences in suburbia. When there’s seemingly nothing left to build, the only option left is to tear it all down.

This need for challenge and hardship ultimately originates from mankind’s past. Humanity was shaped by life in small inter-dependent troupes in harsh unforgiving environments and further moulded by warfare with rival tribes. The biological inclinations that kept humans alive for millennia don’t suddenly disappear just because they’re not necessary or conducive for modernity. While life was harder in the natural state it was also simpler, which tends to relieve dissatisfaction. Complexity brings with it stress, uncertainty and tediousness. Gathering food for survival is strenuous but simpler than filling out tax forms or organising a mortgage.

Additionally, there is evidence that modernity is a major cause behind depression, specifically that technology and the individualism that comes with it ultimately severs people from the social connections that are critical to wellbeing.

Journalist Sebastian Junger details this phenomenon of unmet primeval desires in his book Tribe. He details the accounts of people who survived terrible hardships and disasters yet described how they cherished these experiences and felt a deep solidarity with their fellow survivors. Moreover, he has also spoken at length about soldiers who miss war not out of bloodlust, but because they miss the feeling of purpose and brotherhood that the battlefield fostered. Essentially what Junger describes is tribalism – albeit not in the pejorative sense. He is describing the inherent sense of belonging and meaning every human craves.

All that being said, this is not a veiled Rousseauian argument for abandoning modern living and returning to nature. I for one am a big fan of the Internet, antibiotics and not getting eaten by wolves. As Thomas Hobbes, the ideological antithesis of Rousseau, once observed, the life of humanity in its natural state was “nasty, brutish, and short” and the grim archaeological record backs up this claim. Moreover, we must be careful not to idealise hunter-gather societies that are just as susceptible to bad ideas and harmful practices as modern societies.

But gratitude for modern prosperity and security doesn’t diminish the fact that civilisation is a product of individuals reining in their natural instincts. This worthwhile effort unavoidably comes at the cost of some of our impulses being left unsatisfied. To build a world that is safe, plentiful and tolerant we have to deny part of ourselves. Of course we should alleviate this tension through healthy and appropriate outlets, but we will ultimately have to live to some degree with a feeling of, for want of a better term, spiritual restlessness.

The renowned economist Thomas Sowell once remarked on human existence, “There are no solutions, there are only trade-offs. And whatever you do to deal with one of man’s flaws, it creates another problem but you try to get the best trade-off you can get and that’s all you can hope for.”

Capitalism is undeniably a successful trade-off, but it’s still a trade-off.