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Aubrey de Grey, a Cambridge University researcher, claims in this intriguing TED talk that the first person who will live to be 1,000 is alive today.
News flash: We age as we do because the very metabolic processes that keep us alive also cause microscopic damage to tissue. We don’t notice this damage for years – decades – but in our 40s and 50s, we start to creak, to sag, to weaken. That’s the toll of a half a lifetime’s ongoing microscopic cellular damage.
De Grey and a raft of other scientists in the field of “regenerative medicine” are working to develop a new class of medicines, rejuvenation biotechnologies, which are precisely engineered to remove, repair, or replace the cellular and molecular damage caused by life itself.
The promise is that with every round of therapy, our bodies’ tissues are progressively restored to their youthful integrity: that is, our eyes, hearts, arteries, and bones will actually become more youthful and healthy in their structure and function. Doesn’t that sound great? Where do I sign up?
But . . . do I want to live to be 1,000?
To be honest, the thought of living to 1,000 makes me tired! But maybe that’s because I can’t separate the idea of aging from the idea of eventual decrepitude. If I lived feeling (and looking) healthy and young for 1,000 years, then maybe! But . . . how on earth would I pay for it? And if everyone starts living to 1,000, where would the world put all of us? How on earth would natural resources stretch to accommodate everyone? And wouldn't it just be the rich people who got to live so long?
And then there’s the little fact that death gives life its meaning, its beauty, its urgency – or, as Wallace Stevens said unforgettably in his poem “Sunday Morning,” “Death is the mother of beauty.” If you want to treat yourself to a nightmare, imagine a world in which nobody dies.
Want to know more?
De Grey and colleagues founded the SENS Foundation (SENS stands for “Strategies for Engineered Negligible Senescence”), which is dedicated to funding regenerative medicine research and building the industry that will cure diseases of aging. Their website is full of articles and videos that explain the work. Aubrey de Grey, with co-author Michael Rae, wrote a book for non-scientists called Ending Aging: The Rejuvenation Breakthroughs That Could Reverse Human Aging in Our Lifetime (published by St. Martin’s in 2007, but updated since then).
If you want even more, check out the Buck Institute for Research on Aging, in California. Their website’s less flush with information for amateurs and SENS’s is, but is still informative. And then of course there's the 1,000-pound gorilla of the anti-aging research community: Calico Labs, founded by Google and funded primarily by tech giants.
This 2015 Washington Post article, "Tech Titans' Latest Project: Defy Death," is a terrific summary of radical anti-aging aspirations, and critiques of that vision. The authors quote Susan Jacoby in her book, Never Say Die (NY: Vintage, 2011): “Acceptance of the point at which intelligence and its inventions can no longer battle the ultimate natural master, death, is a true affirmation of what it means to be human.”
PS – deGrey and his ilk are the consummate Denialists
After writing this post, I read Dr. Bill Thomas’s book, Second Wind, and it changed my thinking about the attempt to “end aging.” It’s impossible, for one thing, and is savagely ageist, for another. Read about Thomas’s Denialist, Realist, and Enthusiastic stances toward aging here.
This NYTimes opinion piece is an interesting meditation on the beauty of the brevity of life.
We cherish a fantasy of old age as a time when we’re finally wise and calm, immune to emotional storms and full of sage observations about life. In his Pulitzer Prize-winning book, Why Survive? geriatrician Robert N. Butler observes that “the myth of serenity portrays old age as a kind of adult fairyland.”
Now, as geriatrician Bill Thomas observes in Second Wind, “A room full of eighty-somethings inevitably contains more wisdom than a room full of twenty-somethings.” But wisdom isn’t a given as we age, it’s not an inevitable byproduct of aging, like wrinkles, sagging skin, and graying hair. (Sorry.)
Perspective and insights about life accumulate, sure. But turning decades’ worth of experience into wisdom takes more than just living through it. It takes reflection, self-assessment, deep processing. It takes persistent kindness, generosity, forgiveness—toward ourselves and others.
There are lots of routes to gaining wisdom as we age. Therapy can help. Inclusive religious practice. Spiritual development, formal or informal. Many older people are turning toward Sage-ing International or the Center for Conscious Eldering, and books like Zalman Schachter-Shalomi’s From Age-ing to Sage-ing and Ron Pevny’s Conscious Living, Conscious Aging. I’m practicing mindfulness meditation, which I began through the invaluable free online program, Palouse Mindfulness, based on the Mindfulness Based Stress Reduction (MBSR) course developed by Jon Kabat Zinn at the University of Massachusetts Medical School. Now I'm taking a course in MBSR through the Ann Arbor Center for Mindfulness. The IONS Conscious Aging workshop series, which I offer locally, is another great way to open up your path to wisdom.
If we pay any attention at all to the events of our lives, we all get smarter as we age. And research by psychologist Laura Carstensen, founder and director of the Stanford Center for Longevity, found that we humans tend to be happiest at the beginning and end of our lives. But wisdom? That takes work.
“Wherever you turn, you can find someone who needs you.” Albert Schweitzer said that, and boy did he know.
Recently, I received an email with this subject line: “Avoid being a ‘bored boomer’ in retirement.” My reaction was recoil. Bored? Who could be bored when there’s so much to do for this hurting world?
But I remember being under-involved, and blue about it, after retirement, casting about looking for my post-working-life identity, my passion, my place. At a conference I attended, author Richard Leider said, “If you have a pulse, you have a purpose.” That line has a great, bracing ring to it, but it haunted me: if you don’t know what your purpose is, do you still have one?
A large proportion of retirees—with decades of life remaining—suffer from loss of identity, of meaning, of social engagement. That suffering has to end, both for the benefit of the retirees, who are vulnerable to physical and emotional diminishment from disengagement, and for benefit of the world, which sorely needs our continued efforts to make life better.
Where to begin?
Begin with your heart. Turn toward the hurt. In the words of poet and activist Andrew Harvey, “Identify the issues that break your heart, and take action.” Cultivate self-knowledge with books, like From Age-ing to Sage-ing, by Rabbi Zalman Schecter-Shalomi; Conscious Living, Conscious Aging, by Ron Pevny; The Aging of Aquarius, by Helen Wilkes; Aging as a Spiritual Practice, by Lewis Richmond; and others (several found here), which offer not just wisdom but meaningful exercises for discovering it within. The "Empowered Elder" workshop offered by Elders Action Network, the IONS Conscious Aging workshops, and similar group experiences can be life-changing.
And it’s never too soon (or too late) to reach out to make new connections.
“Bored”? Impossible for long if you bestir yourself. Do yourself, and the world, and your family a favor. Get. Out. And. Help.
I owe my own enlightenment on this topic to Ashton Applewhite and her indispensable book, This Chair Rocks!
Here’s what she writes: “Ageism is discrimination and stereotyping on the basis of a person’s age. We’re ageist when we feel or behave differently toward a person or group on the basis of how old we think they are. . . . Ageism occurs when the dominant group uses its power to oppress or exploit or silence or simply ignore people who are much younger or significantly older.”
How often have you heard older people trash a younger generation as a group? You know the lament about the laziness or entitlement mentality of Millennials and Gen-Xers. That’s ageist.
Way more often we hear deprecating jokes and generalizations about elders–Boomers and their (rapidly expiring) parents. About their warts, their whiskers, their humps, their spots, their snail’s pace, their smells, their inability to learn, their out-of-it-ness, their dementia. About how expensive they are.
A few quick happy facts
Boomers control trillions of dollars in wealth, and spend more per capita on all manner of goods and services than younger generations do (or can). Aging minds typically gain flexibility, creativity, and insight. The vast majority of us will not experience dementia or Alzheimer’s disease. Elders are not a homogeneous group. In fact, the older we get, the more different from one another we become. (You’ll find sources for all of this information in the “Learn” section of this site.)
Why is ageism so persistent?
The term “ageism” was coined in 1968 (by the indispensable Robert N. Butler), the same year as “sexism.” American society has made all the other isms–racism, sexism, homophobia–not obsolete, sadly, but broadly shameful. But ageist jokes batter us constantly in an unnoticed barrage. This “ism” damages people as much as all the other “isms” combined, because it damages everybody.
Ageism becomes self-hatred
Americans dread becoming old like nothing else. We have all internalized negative stereotypes of aging with barely a thought. The older we get, the greater the dread. We don’t end this dread by trying to be young (see Denialism)–we enact and perpetuate it. The only way to end the dread is to end the “ism.”
Go to this section of “Learn” to make some connections.
Dr. Bill Thomas’s incredible book, Second Wind¸ helps make sense of three possible approaches to aging currently stalking the land. His categories are exceptionally useful for sorting all the books, articles, products, and attitudes about aging that swirl around us all the time. His categories also help us assess—and evaluate, and maybe change—our own mind-set. Here goes:
Are you a Denialist?
Denialists are so freaked out by aging they just pretend they can avoid it. They buy the argument that we can defeat aging in our lifetime (see Aubrey de Grey), and funnel tremendous resources—time, money, and life energy— into finding ways to stop the clock until the “cure” for aging can be found. This hope is doomed, and is a perfect dark reflection of our viciously ageist culture.
Sidebar: “life expectancy” vs. “longevity”
Thomas makes an important distinction that Denialist gurus often intentionally confuse, between “life expectancy” and “longevity.”
“Life expectancy” is the average age a population of people can be expected to reach. Life expectancy in the west has increased dramatically because of great wins against early killers like infant mortality, infection, and communicable disease.
“Longevity,” in contrast, is the maximum number of years a human being can live. Longevity--a mixture of genes, environmental factors, and luck—has not increased appreciably in the last couple centuries. Dr. Thomas writes, “Even if we make stunning breakthroughs in gene therapy or other medical advances, we will not alter the reality that aging is tightly bound to the experience of being alive.”
Denialism is widespread, like the blind desperation about aging it reflects.
Are you a Realist?
Realists accept the fact of aging and death. They just think the whole thing is incredibly unfortunate. They’re all about sensible ways to stave off the ravages of age: fiber, sensible shoes, moderate exercise, Sudoku, and so forth. To be clear: there’s nothing wrong with all of those things! The Realist mis-fire is the mood: the heavy-heartedness of it all.
Are you an Enthusiast?
Here’s the Enthusiast creed: Aging is real, inevitable, and good. Enthusiasts—a rare breed, but growing in number—embrace the unique potential of the third stage of life—after childhood and adulthood, elderhood.
American culture is so ageist it’s almost impossible to conceive of true Enthusiasm about aging. But it’s possible—and the only desirable path. Enthusiasm is joyful, kind, insightful, and growth-filled—the stance toward aging that is most rewarding and will win the most converts, because of its generosity.
It’s a journey
I personally have moved through Denialism into Realism, and am working on becoming an Enthusiast. I think it’s a journey we all struggle through. Check out my Books section to find some good guides, including This Chair Rocks!, Second Wind, and Conscious Living, Conscious Aging. And let me know what you’re thinking.
I’ve been heavily involved in the gun violence prevention (GVP) movement for a few years. Recently, other local group leaders and I were gathered in my living room for our usual monthly meeting. We range in age from early thirties to mid-seventies. All of these leaders are committed activists; the older among us have been fighting the good fight for social justice since the 1960s. We’ve been there. And back.
This particular week, we’d invited an 18-year-old to meet with us. She and her friends had launched an impressive local youth initiative that concerned itself with GVP, racism, police brutality, and other pressing social ills. We wanted to hear from her about coordinating efforts on the GVP front. We wanted to be supportive without seeming to attempt to take over.
Well, but – are you woke?
She looked a little uneasy for a while, and was noncommittal, then blurted, “Well, some of the people–not me, but some others—wonder if you guys are woke enough. You know what I mean?”
It would’ve been a stitch to be a fly on the wall in the room right then, to observe the body language of all of us “elders” during our shocked silence: collective leaning back, widened eyes, suppressed laughter, disbelieving glances at each other.
It was on the tip of my tongue to say, “Honey, we were woke before you were born!” I think my friend Deborah was the first to speak. “You know,” she said, “some of us have been fighting for social justice for 40 years. Some even longer than that.” After this admirable young person had left, we all had a good laugh.
But activists of the 1960’s were young – not like you
But I kept pondering the disconnect between her evident perception of us and the homage paid on her group’s website to the student activists of the ‘60s. “We stand on these giants’ shoulders,” the website said.
But when she looked at us living, breathing people, she didn’t see the courageous student activists we’d been—those “giants”; she saw parents and grandparents who might represent many good things, but look nothing like the young student activists in her head—the student activists who looked like her and her friends, though in goofier clothes.
A self-protective imagination gap
I think what I saw was this 18-year-old’s inability to imagine herself aging into someone who looked like us. And I get that. It’s hard to imagine when you’re 18 and your body’s perfect, blooming, unblemished, perky, that you’ll ever look like someone decades older. You think you’ll escape. We all do. It’ll never happen to me, personally. I think kids that age almost see aging as a failing on our part, one they’ll never be so blind as to stumble into.
It’s this absolute disconnect–making elders “Other”–that enables and reinforces ageism. This is why Ashton Applewhite’s idea of becoming “An Old Person in Training” is so important. In a nutshell, it means actively imagining yourself into your aging body.
Hard as that is, it’s much harder to imagine yourself into the experienced, generous, creative mind you’re likely developing as you age. Becoming An Old Person in Training is a radical act: it’s a refusal to reject your future self. Read more here about this vital idea.
At the biennial conference of Sage-ing International this fall, I heard this life-changing question: How many years of life experience do you have?
Not, “How old are you?” Or (shudder), “How many years young are you?”
How many years of life experience do you have?
Just a few years ago, when a girlfriend (older than me) asked me my age, I said, “I’d rather tell you how much I weigh.” She still laughs about that, and often repeats it to friends.
I’m only a little embarrassed that I refused to tell my age. Such is the toll of epidemic ageism. In a culture that disparages the old, none of us wants to own our years.
The question, “How many years of life experience do you have?” turns this situation on its head—where it belongs. I’ve asked it of many people now, and always see a light go on.
I haven’t had the opportunity yet, but I like to imagine saying to someone younger who’s patronizing me, “Excuse me, but how many years of life experience do you have?” When they tell me they’re in their 30s or 40s or 50s, I’ll say, “I see. Well, I have 65 years of life experience, so listen up!”
Never before have I hoped someone would condescend to me because of my wrinkles! But I find myself looking forward to using this new strategy in a teachable moment. I hope you’ll try it and let me know how it goes.
Until recently, most theories of human development ended with young adulthood and tacitly assumed that the sledding from there is strictly downhill, on the inevitable decline of aging. But nope. We continue to grow and change right up until the day we die. At least, we can.
It's DEFINITELY not all downhill
Several psychologists and psychiatrists are working on models of human development through the lifespan. Berkeley’s Norma Haan found (ages ago) very significant increases in three broad areas of personality development in people over 70: outgoingness, self-confidence, and warmth. Nice, hm? The great psychoanalyst Erik Erikson also conceptualized adult development as a series of four stages, around Identity, Intimacy, Generativity, and Integrity.
One of the most comprehensive and interesting studies of adult development is described in Aging Well by Harvard psychiatry professor George E. Vaillant. His six adult life tasks are modifications of Erikson’s, built on Harvard’s Study of Adult Development, which followed three groups of 824 people for decades.
Here are the six tasks Vaillant describes:
Identity: Yes, step one to successful adult development is the last step out of childhood, which some people never do make: establishing a sense of ourselves, our values, politics, and tastes, separate from that of our parents.
Intimacy: This is the task of bonding with another person in an interdependent, reciprocal, committed, and contented fashion for a decade or more. This is anti-narcissism. Intimacy can be achieved in close, asexual friendships as well as through live-in partnerships.
Career Consolidation: This task involves expanding our personal identity to assume a social identity within a world of work, involving other people.
Generativity: The fourth task involves demonstrating our ability to generously guide the next generation—to be in a relationship where we care deeply for younger people while respecting their autonomy.
Keeper of Meaning: This task (awkwardly named, to my ear) involves preserving the great products of human effort—in the arts, architecture, sciences, and political and cultural institutions. Keeping them safe, passing them on, so future generations can benefit.
Integrity: The ultimate task in human life is embracing the value and uniqueness of our own lives—of life itself—in the face of death.
These tasks are not necessarily accomplished in an orderly fashion (or indeed at all), but over and over again, Vaillant witnessed individuals in the Harvard study mastering each of these milestones, growing outward with each one.
How am I doing?
This work has made me think about my own continued development: Have I hit these marks? What work do I have still to do? Do you see your own continuing growth in these terms?
Thank you, Ashton Applewhite, author of This Chair Rocks!, for the brilliant suggestion that people of all ages should take up the mantle of “Old Person in Training.” What on earth is that?
The crushing paradox
Because of endemic, internalized ageism—and fear of death—we all dread aging. And yet we all aspire to age. Right? Very few of us want to die young. But we wish we could die without having aged. How’s that supposed to work?
Elders are happier than we are
In study after study, the consensus in people over 80 is that younger people worry way too much about getting old. There’s this amazing happiness “U” curve: we’re actually happiest at the beginning and end of our lives. Getting through the stress of the middle years and into the calmer perspective of older age is cause for celebration.
Close the gap between “us” and “them,” between me-now and me-old
Ashton recommends that we actively work to imagine ourselves into the older person in the next row, or across the aisle. Recognize that their inner life is as rich as our own, no matter what recoil their appearance triggers in an ageist mindset. That alone—recognizing the lively inner existence in the elders among us—is a big step toward breaking down ageist assumptions and our own associated dread.
But there’s a more radical step: imagine ourselves older. How do I expect to look in 20 years? (Hint: It will be significantly different from the way I look now.) What will I be thinking about? Where will I live, work, and play? Who will I have lunch or dinner with? What will I be doing for fun? What will I be doing to cement my legacy and improve the world?
There are many benefits to becoming an Old Person in Training
Try this, and let me know how it goes!
You really need to read Counterclockwise: Mindful Health and the Power of Possibility, by Harvard psychology professor Ellen Langer (Ballantine Books, NYC, 2009).