I WAS listening to the radio a couple of weeks ago while driving when a story came on about a country I'd never heard of called Bhutan. The story told how the main focus of the Bhutan Government was increasing the residents' gross national happiness, or GNH. This notion is in contrast to the economic focus of most Western countries, which measure success in terms of increases in gross domestic product (GDP).

Interestingly, while having a focus on GNH, Bhutan's economy has also benefited, with substantial GDP increases. All decisions made by the Government are weighed up against what it believes to be the four pillars of ensuring strong levels of happiness among its citizens: economic self-reliance, environmental preservation, maintaining good governance practices, and the promotion and preservation of the country's culture.

Now I'm sure that not everyone in Bhutan is walking around with a smile from one ear to the other. I did read, for instance, that because of their focus on national identity, some of the Nepalese minorities have had a tough time of it. Notwithstanding this, the story did get me thinking about a couple of things.

First, the influence happiness has on the performance of a footballer. Second, how much consideration does the AFL give to the impact its decisions have on the happiness of footballers and fans.

It would stagger most people to discover how many tests footballers endure so that their clubs can try to "crack the code" and predict future performance and injury risk.

But will there come a time when players' serotonin levels are tested to assess the correlation between happiness and on-field performance?

There's no doubt that when your team is winning and you're playing well, personal happiness levels increase. It's also easier to play well when the rest of your life is running smoothly.

I've always admired players who have been able to play consistent footy while undergoing significant hardships off the field. While employees in general may have to try to deliver impressive efforts during times of personal duress, most don't have a three-hour window in their week when they have to be at their very best. Being in the right mood, in front of hundreds of thousands of witnesses, is non-negotiable.

Already, in the various football codes across Australia, we have seen high-profile athletes struggling to cope with the pressures attached to modern-day sport.

After listening to the story of Bhutan, I couldn't help but wonder how much effort was being spent in considering the wellbeing of AFL players and the fans, compared with the energy expended in "growing" the code.

If the AFL was running a listed company, with the objective of maximising shareholder returns, then we'd all agree that growth should be the biggest priority. Maybe the AFL powerbrokers could even look at taking over the A-League (they appear to be on a strong growth path and the back office synergies could be compelling). But, alas, the AFL has no shareholders.

I raised this issue with AFL chief executive Andrew Demetriou last year when he spoke to the West Coast leadership group. His reply was that while the AFL didn't have shareholders, there were stakeholders, and the game was more or less "owned" by the people who went to games, watched it on television and read about it in the papers.

I think one of the great services the AFL provides these stakeholders is that there are few games of footy that aren't worth watching. I look at the NBA, where teams play 82 home-and-away games a year, and a big chunk of these games don't reach great heights. Similarly, my interest in watching cricket has waned over the years, simply because they've started to play too many games.

I hope the growth that the AFL is pursuing, through the establishment of teams on the Gold Coast and western Sydney — and, who knows, maybe one day even in South Africa — doesn't come at the expense of devaluing the game. One way this could occur is by having players who aren't good enough to play AFL football being rolled out to play.

There's no doubt in my mind that there are many players participating in the state league competitions who are good enough to play at AFL level, but aren't being given the chance.

However, are there 90 of these players, over and above the 70-odd who will get drafted? For two teams to get off the ground, that's how many new players, on top of the usual number of draftees, that will need to be introduced into an 18-team competition.

The other risk in adding two new teams is that there will be too many games of football to be consumed, and the public will get saturated with games, similar to what I feel has happened in other sports.

There is no doubt that increasing the number of teams will have significant short-term revenue benefits for the AFL. By adding an extra game each week, the AFL will increase the amount of game time by 12.5%. If you were to increase the value of TV rights by the same amount, you're looking at an increase in revenue of about $100 million over a five-year period — and that's from the TV rights alone.

While there's nothing wrong with revenue increases, I hope someone on the AFL Commission has a little bit of the Bhutanese spirit in them, and is weighing up the costs that such revenue increases will bring.

Because if the quality of games suffers, then so, too, will the levels of happiness being enjoyed by the players and fans.