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He Thinks 75 Is Old?

Ezekiel J. Emanuel caused quite a stir with his October 2014 Atlantic article saying that he did not want to live past 75. Emanuel is a noted bioethicist and a doctor who consulted on the Affordable Care Act. He does not believe in suicide or legalized euthanasia; he would simply decline medical care. What a limited imagination this doctor has, that he cannot visualize himself vital, engaged and enjoying life at 75. How sad that he has little or no contact with vigorous, healthy people in their 80s or 90s. They are everywhere; he need only look around.

Emanuel explained that he does not want his grandchildren to see him enfeebled. But this is the human condition: we decline with age, some of us rapidly and a few imperceptibly. Perhaps he fears that his grandchildren will think less of him if he looks frail or needs a walker.

As a woman nearing 75, I naturally took Emanuel’s cutoff date personally. Good grief, he thinks 75 is old? I look my age, especially around my mouth; the mirror tells me I now have jowls, and those spots all over my hands are not freckles. But 75 is a good age both for those who are healthy and for those who cope with serious health challenges. For many my age, the pleasures definitely outweigh the negatives.

I don’t see having fun mentioned in the gerontological literature, but enjoyment is very important to me at this life stage. Perhaps some residual Puritanism keeps us from thinking the pursuit of pleasure a worthy goal.

Apparently Emanuel cannot imagine that after age 75, the pleasures of music, art and literature remain available, even for those unable to travel. I was lucky to be educated by Benedictine nuns whose own love of the arts was passed on to me. As long as I can see and hear, old age won’t be boring.

More than before, I have time with friends, not just snatches but significant stretches. If one day they see me as enfeebled or wheelchair bound, they will not think less of me. If I eventually suffer from the affliction euphemistically known as “cognitive decline,” my friends won’t disappear. Nor will I abandon them.

Reading books that I don’t have to teach is an endless pleasure, and I enjoy finding authors I would not have been interested in before, E. O. Wilson and P. D. James, for example. I now have time to worry about the uncertain future of humans on the planet, about the unraveling of American democracy, about the rise of religious fanaticism (ISIS and whatever the next brand will be) and, more locally, about severe and damaging cuts at the university where I worked for years. I write letters to the editor. Despite valuing pleasure, I have not fallen into a narcissistic stupor.

What is our role, then, if we outlive Emanuel’s desirable death date? The famed gerontologist Robert Butler, MD, thought that old people should be “moral powerhouses.” That is, we should function as guides, mentors and preservers of culture. If we don’t, he added, humanity doesn’t deserve the new longevity. I say if individual old women and men want to do all that, fine, but the prescription should not be so broadly applied. The claim that humans do or do not deserve longevity is irrelevant. We needn’t justify living longer than our grandparents. We do because of public health advances and a few medical discoveries. Why apologize for good luck?

Moral powerhouses are probably quite busy. I’d rather have a good time.

I dislike the positive stereotype that links old age with wisdom. Maybe so, maybe not, depending on the individual. Granting us wisdom seems like a consolation prize.

Nevertheless, I hope that Dr. Emanuel achieves wisdom by the time of his 75th birthday and will therefore want more good years of life.