I continued thinking there Must There must be something more. Since the first presidential debate, I have read articles and interviews calling for President Joe Biden to drop out of the race, and they all say the same thing: He’s too old. Is this it? I wondered. Is this enough for the sitting president to give up on a second term? A hastily put together and shaky debate performance, dire speculation about his ability to lead universally, and a chorus of pundits and politicians declaring him too old?
I thought I might encounter a more nuanced argument for this closing warning, such as a specific appeal to Biden’s record, but all I found was circular reasoning that he is simply too old, or too old to lead, or likely to lose an election (never mind that Donald Trump is only a few years younger than him).
For the past 15 years, I have worked professionally with older adults, advocated for aging justice, and written about dementia, ageism, and spirituality. I am outraged but not surprised when people are belittled or ignored because of their age, or any aspect of their identity. Ageism, the discrimination against older people through negative and inaccurate stereotypes, is so ubiquitous in American culture that it is invisible. Most people are averse to calls to remove someone from a position because they are “too female,” “too black,” or “too gay,” yet firing someone for being “too old” is somehow acceptable.
Like other forms of prejudice, ageism takes a serious toll on people’s health and well-being. In addition to the daily indignities older people suffer (one need only walk down a birthday card aisle or notice the proliferation of “anti-aging” products) older people are at risk of employment discrimination, negative health care bias that leads to poor care, and abuse and neglect that are so widespread that they constitute a distinct category of harm: elder abuse.
Imagery that stigmatizes age abounds, creating and amplifying aversion to old age and infirmity. This week’s cover of The Economist features a photo of a walker bearing the presidential seal, next to the headline “No Way to Run a Country.” Apparently, by this logic, the use of an assistive device would be a disqualification from leadership positions, and dismissal would be warranted. The title of a recent Atlantic article, “Someone Should Take Biden’s Car Keys,” paints the delicate and complex issue of assisting with driver’s transition as a cheeky satire of Biden’s age, with infantilizing and paternalistic overtones.
It is hard to imagine such a sophisticated publication so readily caricaturing and lampooning another symbol of identity: one would hardly expect The Economist’s cover to refer to a female candidate with the presidential seal and a high-heeled shoe bearing the headline “Incapable of Running a Country.” Yet instead of legitimately countering the “too old” attack, a generalization underpinned by the false notion of equating incompetence with old age, many in the Democratic Party have embraced and perpetuated this ageist trope.
The truth is, I don’t know whether Biden should run again. Rather than commenting on the decision (which I am neither qualified nor equipped to do), it is more important for me to highlight how ageism has distorted our approach to this issue. Ageism, combined with a fair amount of ableism, has distorted the media coverage and the calls for Biden to resign. We must begin to recognize, name, and resist these distortions before a more sober assessment can take place.
Oscillating between being overly visible and being invisible
The oscillating relationship between aging’s hypervisibility and invisibility illustrates the distorting effects of ageism. Old man Biden is conspicuous by his failures, but not by his governing know-how or diplomatic talents. This over-the-top behavior scrutinizes every misstep, stumble, and delay and blames it on old age. Ageism promotes the idea that old age means universal decline, so all these closely tracked failures are said to only prove the point. Ageism is thus swept under the guise of “being what it is.” Every Biden gaffe is returned to the pile of “too old” evidence.
The flip side of hypervisibility Invisibility The problems of aging include the poor representation of older people in everything from movies to drug trials, the discrimination that discourages or excludes them from participating in the workplace, the “social death” older people experience in their communities (especially when they fall ill), and even a lack of awareness of ageism itself. This erasure hides the talents, knowledge, potential, and achievements of older people, and separates positive attributes and contributions from aging. Decline (often viewed in the narrowest and most shallow terms) is seen as a hallmark of aging, and any strengths or advantages are seen as incidental or contingent on aging. Biden’s achievements are obscured by what are perceived to be the weaknesses of age.
This no-win double bind — our flaws are most visible and our abilities least visible — likely applies to other nondominant groups. It’s hard for any of us to see ourselves clearly, remain confident, and thrive when we’re most defined by our flaws. This uneven, dysfunctional dynamic makes it stifling and awkward to fairly evaluate Biden.
The distorting effects of ageism are also evident in the strategies used to cope with it, which often include emphasizing youth, or adopting the “super senior” tactic. A few years ago, at a campaign event, when an attendee told Biden he was too old to be president, Biden challenged the man to a push-up contest. The response puzzled me: instead of refuting the premise that old age is a natural disability, Biden took the bait and offered to defend his worth through physical strength. While I’m not saying that older people should shun physical ability or strength, the “super senior” script reinforces ableist and ageist notions that able-bodied youth determine worth, or that you can survive as long as you’re young.
Unfortunately, Biden, his team, and the journalists who cover him have largely seized the opportunity to foster a different narrative about his aging: what if they had focused on how his judgment has sharpened, or how he has become a different person from the man he was 10, 20, or 30 years ago — the man who slandered Anita Hill and voted for the Iraq War? good What if he had emphasized what he has learned through his life experiences, both professional and personal, and how those learnings can help him better connect with the real needs of others, including those aging in America?
What if they were unashamed to admit that Biden can’t crisscross the globe and have the best debate records, or “burn the candle at both ends,” as my mother would say, but he knows how to build and lead a team, delegate appropriately, and ask for help when he needs it? While acknowledging and embracing aging in this way is too dangerous, and ageism is perhaps too gripping to be helpful anyway, ignoring aging altogether and ceding the premise that being “too old” is an automatic disqualification seems equally counterproductive.
Ageism further complicates the situation, distorting the ability to have a hopeful and graceful retirement or transition. Without solid mechanisms and associated values that enable people to contribute fully as respected advisors and repositories of wisdom in later life, deciding when and how to leave work or let go of a fulfilling role can be a difficult calculation, especially with the threat of extinction looming ahead.
Anti-age discrimination activist Ashton Applewhite gets to the heart of this conundrum: “I’m not asking for better candidates. I’m asking for a better world — a world that offers more options than ‘promote’ and ‘resign’; a world that doesn’t impose false dichotomies of employed or useless, competent or incompetent, ‘independent’ or a burden onto the confusion and ambiguity of being human.” That any office, even the presidency, can involve adaptations and adjustments offers a human model of what work looks like for all of us.
I am not saying that age doesn’t change us. It is not “just a number” that doesn’t have any major impact. The years bring new limitations and challenges, but they can also bring other things, like refined perspectives, deeper discernment of what is important, and deeper relationships. Biden has many positive attributes that come with life experience that may not necessarily be true for his opponents in this election. Rather than relying on push-up contests, doctor’s health declarations, or even rebellious attitudes (or panic), the Biden team and the rest of us would be wise to acknowledge the limitations, benefits, and highly variable experience of aging and bring a deeper understanding of and resistance to ageism to the situation.
This approach would help move the conversation beyond the arrogant certainty of both those calling for Biden’s immediate removal from office and Biden’s “only God almighty can remove me” stance, and chart a more honest, hopeful path forward.
