Let me start by saying that I write this column as a retiree — senior citizen, oldster or what you will. With the holidays behind me and some quiet, chilly days ahead, I’m catching up on my reading.
This morning, an article in a fall issue of The New Yorker got my attention. “Why Ageism Never Gets Old” looks first at the changing world of work, where youth frequently upstages age, and moves from there to a broader picture of getting old in America today.
“Times have changed,” author Tad Friend writes, documenting instances where even middle-aged workers are considered outdated.
“This sharp shift in the age of authority,” he writes, “derives from increasingly rapid technological change.”
He notes that, in the 1920s, the expertise of engineers remained relevant for at least 35 years. With software engineers today, he says, it can be fewer than three. And frequently, bosses are in their 20s and investment bankers are moved on, or “de-partnered,” within a mere five years of being hired. Age discrimination in the workplace is common.
America’s older citizens are being relegated to the mahjong table and not the board room. Following a discussion of several books that propose solutions, Friend concludes — lamely — that “the only way to eliminate the terror that animates ageism is to eliminate death.” He ends with the assertion that “the eager beavers in Silicon Valley are working on that, too.”
Unfortunately, his cynicism short-circuits another critical dimension of the conversation.
While ageism, like racism and sexism, is a form of discrimination, we are prone to see ageism as a one-way phenomenon, with older people being victimized by those who are younger.
It is, in fact, more complex.
Maybe because they fear feeling irrelevant, oldsters too often judge youngsters: their lives move too fast, they are buried in their devices, they have no culture. If only things hadn’t changed so much in such a short time.
Yet no one, old or young, would deny that the growth of technology, and its ever more significant role in all aspects of our lives, is often very positive. People I know are grateful for the precision of medical procedures, for the enhanced connections among relatives that result from cell phones and Skype, and for the most recent Metropolitan Opera performance or National Theater production they watched at a local venue in high-definition.
Still, some of those same folks are prone to describing technology in general as an intrusion into lives that once seemed good enough with less of it.
I recently participated in a roundtable discussion exploring the connections and conflicts between technology and the humanities. Members of the group ranged widely in age, and many appeared to be at least comfortable with modern technology, if not fully immersed in it. What stood out to me most — what annoyed me, in truth — was the attitude of several older speakers. Taking the floor with authority, they appeared to believe they were representing their peers in lamenting the obsession of the young with technology.
“I miss those long talks my mother and I used to have on the phone. With my daughter, it’s an email now and then, if at all,” said one.
Or, “She won’t communicate with me any other way than texting now,” said a grandmother about her college-age granddaughter. “I had to buy an iPhone just to keep in touch.”
A younger participant shot back, “Be grateful! I love the fact that my son can email his granddad the scores from his games. If Dad didn’t love his computer, they’d have lost each other by now.”
I want to take a strong stand in support of that final comment. People my age need to become more open-minded about the world around us. That includes being positive toward the technologies that insert themselves into our lives. Yes, it could feel like an adjustment, maybe even a capitulation. But to the extent that we resist, we deserve to be left in the dust, living yesterday’s lives in today’s world.
And once we’re on board, someone could consider emailing a letter to the editor of The New Yorker, suggesting that Tad Friend might have it wrong. Among older adults who embrace the technology of the 21st century, ageism may, in fact, be getting old.
Mary Otto lives in Norwich.