aarp video millennials what old looks like

Why We Need a New Narrative for Aging

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I’ve been saying for some time that we desperately need a new narrative for aging in this country.

If you’re not sure what that means — or why it’s needed — three recent pieces do a great job of explaining why.

I’ll tackle them one by one:

1. AARP Asks Young People “What age do you consider to be old?”

In a video, AARP asked several young people to name an age that they consider “old,” and to show how they picture old people.

The responses were ages that few if any of you would call old: 40s, late 40s, 50, etc.

And when asked to show how an old person crosses the street or sends a text, the young people limped, shuffled, squinted and grimaced. It wasn’t pretty.

The video did a great job of showing the challenge we face: A generation (or generations) that holds a variety of out of touch, ageist attitudes.

2. The Wall Street Journal Shows the Difficulty of Navigating Job Loss for Older Workers

Veronica Dagher and Anne Tergesen write that “a bumpy transition often awaits people who get laid off or take buyouts late in their careers.”

One of the older adults interviewed was Kevin Crain, 64, who took early retirement from Bank of America. He found part-time work and his footing — eventually.

“Had I known there were ways to transition into retirement and still work and be engaged,” Crain said, “I would have thought about doing it earlier.”

Crain discovered there’s no roadmap available for our later years.

Many still expect to retire in their 50s or 60s and die in their 60s or 70s. But modern careers and lives don’t often work out that way.

This piece shows what’s at stake for older adults on a personal level. Older Americans not only struggle to find new jobs, they struggle to find the sense of identity and purpose that often go along with the work.

3. Axios Focuses on the Challenges an Aging Society Creates

The U.S. population of adults over 65 is growing, and the cohort under 18 is shrinking. Axios delved into this demographic trend and its potential effects — highlighting the problems.

The piece lists 11 states with more older adults than children and talks about the burdens these states face. They will need more careworkers, for instance. Economic decline could be next.

The thing is, this article assumes that older Americans are done being productive. They will be only a burden, with not enough young people available to support them.

We face a grim future if we assume older adults have nothing to contribute to society.  That’s a faulty assumption. They have plenty to offer.

Conclusion

These three pieces make it clear that the stakes are high, and stereotypes about older adults run deep.

That’s why we need a new narrative about aging.

It seems like a tall task. But if you want to feel hopeful, watch until the end of the AARP video. When the young people spend time with older adults, their attitudes change.

It’s evidence that we’re not stuck in the present. People, and society, can evolve.

elderspeak and older adults

Why ‘Elderspeak’ Is Demeaning and Dehumanizing

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At a certain age, we all start to notice people sprinkling “elderspeak” into their conversations with us.

👉 At the grocery store: “Hey sweetie, let me help you find that.”

👉 On a customer service call: “I see we need help with the silly remote control.”

👉 In a caregiving setting: “It’s time for your pills, isn’t it dear?”

This softening of language usually comes from good intentions, but to most older ears, it grates — or produces a worse, more damaging reaction. That’s why I was thrilled to see Paula Span write about elderspeak in the New York Times.

Elderspeak infantilizes older adults, sending the message that they’ve lost their capabilities and competencies. It’s ultimately demeaning and dehumanizing.

Paula’s article focuses on elderspeak in caregiving. But this phenomenon is not limited to assisted living, memory care or home care settings. Nor is it limited to conversations about health and physical or mental challenges.

I have encountered an infuriating type of elderspeak when touring some senior living buildings. A resident approaches, and the executive director will introduce them in the past tense:

“This is Mr. Jones. He used to have a job at the Pentagon.”

Or:

“This is Mrs. Smith. She had a long career as an artist.”

I respond by turning to the resident and asking questions like:

👉 “What are you doing today?”

👉 “What do you love about living here?”

👉 “What’s the thing that most excites you about your days here?”

And at the end of the tour, I’ll turn to the executive director and say, “Do you realize what you just did? You talked about that person — in front of them — in the past tense. It’s like saying that the real person has left, and all that’s left here is their shell.”

Beyond the immediate discouraging or demoralizing impact of elderspeak, it also contributes to internalized ageism — a belief that if others think you are less of a person because of your age, they might just be right.

As Yale professor Becca Levy has written, elderspeak “begins a negative downward spiral for older adults who react with decreased self-esteem, depression and withdrawal.”

These reactions have a proven effect on how long and how well we live.

As I said, elderspeak often comes from good intentions, as the speaker tries to show care and compassion for an older adult.

But there’s a difference between showing care and compassion and treating someone as if they are no longer an adult. It’s an important difference.

Elderspeak strips away an older adult’s sense of independent self-worth and agency.

It ignores a basic fact: When you’re talking to an older adult, there’s a real person there. And no matter their age or condition, they want to be treated like a real person.

Senior Living and the Need for a New Narrative About Aging

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“They don’t have a friggin’ clue.”

That’s how Dr. Joe Coughlin, director of the MIT AgeLab, described Baby Boomers and Gen Xers during our joint session at the 2025 NIC Spring Conference.

To be fair, it wasn’t a blanket condemnation of the two generations that are so important to senior housing and aging services providers. No, Joe was speaking about older adults’ expectations and desires for their later years — a period that is, thanks to increased longevity, becoming a new stage of life.

There’s no roadmap and no narrative for this stage. It’s a problem for Boomers and Xers, but an opportunity for aging services providers.

As Joe said during our session, the industry is at a crossroads. Longevity has opened up new possibilities, but older adults are unsure of how to think about a new stage of life — or how to prepare for it.

So most simply seek to avoid or delay “becoming old” as long as possible.

To them, getting “old” means the end of independent agency, of purpose and passions, of meaningful contributions to the world. They fear it’s an interminable period of decline.

Senior living falls into the same category as getting old in their minds: Something to be avoided or delayed to the very last moment.

Obviously, that’s not where we want to be as an industry.

To transform from an avoidance setting to one that can excite and delight, we’ll have to create a new narrative about this stage of life and our role in it.

As Joe says, this transformation is not optional, it is essential.

In our session, Joe outlined several steps senior living can take to shape the aging narrative. He encourages the industry to reframe its language, integrate with the community and build “aspirational positioning,” among other smart suggestions.

To me, Joe’s proposals are part of a necessary move from being a provider to being a curator of experiences. And perhaps more importantly, moving from a focus on what is done for and to older adults, to what is done by and with them.

We have to present a vision of something people can aspire to as they get older, with messaging that:

👉 Starts early

We need to reach older adults well before they move in as residents, meeting them where they are — in their single-family homes, apartment communities and membership clubs — and establishing our ability to excite and delight in this new stage of life.

👉 Shows support

We must show that we will support their efforts to get more life out of their years and prioritize extending their healthspan, not just their lifespan.

👉 Emphasizes growth

Let’s demonstrate how residents continue to find purpose and pursue passions with us — instead of simply managing decline.

There’s an additional piece of the puzzle, too: the responsibility of the resident to take advantage of the independent agency that we encourage.  I wrote about that in a March 2025 LinkedIn post.

Caring for aging parent

Working While Caring for an Adult Family Member Is Hard. And It’s Harder for Women.

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The number of American workers who juggle a job and the care of an adult relative is large and growing. That’s not good. And it’s even worse when you factor in the downstream effects confronting these workers.

Clare Ansberry’s recent piece in The Wall Street Journal does a great job of highlighting the difficult position faced by workers who have older relatives in need of care. Some 29 million American workers — nearly 9% of the U.S. population — are working and caring for an adult family member, according to research conducted by AARP and National Alliance for Caregiving. Sixty percent of those 29 million are working full-time, up from 49% 15 years ago.

Clare’s story includes poignant personal stories to illustrate the challenges workers face trying to secure support or flexibility from their employers. Some feel as though they are working nonstop. Others change jobs or leave the workforce altogether.

What’s hidden behind the piece’s statistics and stories is the fact that these challenges often arrive at key junctures of the workers’ careers. They’re usually in their 40s, 50s or early 60s, having developed expertise and experience, in position to earn a promotion and a raise and accelerate their savings for retirement.

When their care responsibilities lessen or end, they can ramp back up. But the price they have paid professionally can be significant, whether it’s in earning potential and trajectory or in saving for retirement. Those who take a hiatus then face a job hunt in middle age — or later — in hopes of picking up where they left off. That’s incredibly difficult.

And let’s face it, these burdens and choices are faced disproportionally by working women, who typically bear a larger percentage of caregiving responsibilities. And many middle-aged women have already had their career paths interrupted once by caring for children.

Here’s the bottom line: Any adult who has to balance employment with caregiving for an older relative pays an economic penalty. But it’s more severe for women. And that makes it all the more urgent that we address this workplace crisis.

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