Old Enough To Know Better
It's Not Judging--It's Preventive Policy
Today is Saturday, July 19, 2025. 180 days into the Trump Regime. 1,281 remaining.
I turned 84 this week. So when I say I’m concerned about the advanced age of our federal legislators and judges, I’m not talking about “them”—I’m talking about us.
Age Limits
Many professions set age limits—for reasons of public safety, cognitive acuity, and plain common sense. Commercial airline pilots, for example, must retire at 65. You can’t fly a 737 at 75, but you can run the Senate.
Law enforcement and firefighters typically retire by 60. Truckers and bus drivers face stricter medical exams after 65. Judges in many states are required to step down by 70 or 75. Even astronauts—NASA doesn’t publish an upper age limit, but they’re not sending octogenarians into orbit.
We set lower age limits too: no alcohol until 21. No Senate seat until 30. You can’t enlist in the Army at 14. We’ve accepted the idea that both youth and age can bring limits. That’s not discrimination—it’s design.
But isn’t this ageism? It depends on how you look at it. Ageism says older people aren’t capable. A limit says nobody is immune to time—its effects on memory, reflexes, flexibility, stamina. That’s not prejudice—it’s planning. And it applies across the board. I’m not saying older officeholders can’t contribute to society. With the resources they’ve accumulated in office, they have a vast range of opportunities open to them—in the private, nonprofit, academic, and voluntary sectors.
Yes, aging can be a time of continued growth—Kerry Burnight calls it the ‘Joyspan’—but even she emphasizes that thriving in later life requires adaptation and purpose, not clinging to positions of power.1 They can still live creative, productive lives—just not in elected office.2
When Wisdom Becomes Stubbornness
Holding power comes with responsibility—and part of that responsibility is knowing when to step aside. It clears space for fresh perspective, strengthens representation, and helps prevent entrenchment.
So here’s the question: why is Congress one of the few high-stakes professions where age is never considered a problem—until it suddenly is? And it’s not just Congress. The Supreme Court offers lifetime appointments, and it’s not unusual now to see justices serving well into their 80s or even 90s
Take Ruth Bader Ginsburg, who remained on the bench until her death at 87, despite calls for her to step down during the Obama years. Or John Paul Stevens, who voluntarily retired at 90. These are people of immense intellect, yes—but at some point, even wisdom can drift into rigidity. Interpreting a world that may have moved on without you—that’s not wisdom. That’s drift.
Political power seems to be one of the few professions in American life where we pretend aging doesn’t matter. In every other high-stakes job, we plan for it. We test for it. We prepare for the handoff. Why is public trust the exception?
Generational Disconnect
But here’s a number worth sitting with: half of all eligible voters in this country are under 50. Yet the average age in the Senate is 64.5. In the House, it’s nearly 59. On the Supreme Court, it’s about 69. That’s not just a gap—it’s a full generational disconnect.
Age alone is not a perfect proxy for capacity. Some 80-year-olds are sharper than 50-year-olds. So I am pointing to preventive policy—not judgment on any individual. This isn’t about throwing out wisdom. I’ve lived long enough to value the long view. But I also know what it means to slow down—and what it means to let go.
Debates continue about age in public office and how to make meaningful change—especially since real change would require amending the Constitution. And let’s be honest: members of Congress themselves are unlikely to support reforms that would nudge them out. But there is no doubt where I stand in this debate: advanced age in officeholders is a critical issue, as the events of the past decade make painfully clear. It’s time to act.
Even short of a constitutional amendment, there are steps that we could take: Mandatory retirement ages for judges. Term limits. Regular cognitive evaluations for member of Congress. There are options—if we’re willing to consider them.
Because democracy depends on representation. And if most Americans are under 50, while most of our lawmakers and top judges are over 70, then who exactly is being represented?
Maybe it’s time to stop thinking of age limits as unkind—and start thinking of them as an act of responsibility. We need age limits on officeholders.3
If it’s good enough for pilots, it ought to be good enough for politicians—and justices, too.4
In this Substack site, I promise to be direct, tell the truth, and approach the issues with clarity, integrity, and an open mind.
Burnight, Kerry. The Guardian. https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/ng-interactive/2025/jul/18/best-ageing-advice-expert-tips
Figueroa, Brandy. The Harvard Political Review. https://theharvardpoliticalreview.com/politiciansage-limits/
A tangential—yet pertinent—article about replacement of culture reporters at The New York Times. https://www.thewrap.com/nyt-culture-department-reassign-four-critics-reviews/
Burnight, Kerry. The Guardian. https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/ng-interactive/2025/jul/18/best-ageing-advice-expert-tips
All valid points, particularly re the generational divide. But one of the continuing problems with age limits is that they are usually set as absolutes based on scientific and medical knowledge at the time and a general sense of the average person’s experience. I’m in favor of more variable approaches, e.g., emeritus status as in academia or senior status for courts below the Supremes, or as in some law firms, allowing those over a certain age to continue to practice but not be part of firm management. Not sure how this could work with Congress but it helps preserve institutionalist knowledge and the dignity and worth of the individuals concerned.
(Barbara Marvin)