51吃瓜

A Washington Post headline : 鈥淎 big problem for young workers: 70- and 80-year-olds who won鈥檛 retire.鈥� For the first time in history, reports , five generations are competing in the same workforce. His article laments a 鈥渄emographic traffic jam鈥� at the apexes of various employment pyramids, making it ever harder for young people 鈥渢o launch their careers and get promoted鈥� in their chosen professions. In fact, actual professors (full-time and tenure-track ones, presumably, rather than part-timers like me) are Exhibit A in his analysis. 鈥淚n academia, for instance,鈥� as he puts it, 鈥測oung professionals now spend years in fellowships and postdoctoral programs waiting for professor jobs to open.鈥�

滨鈥檝别 about how this works in the academic world, describing college and graduate school education as a classic pyramid scheme. Those who got in early got the big payoff 鈥� job security, a book-lined office, summers off, and a 鈥渟abbatical鈥� every seven years (a concept rooted in the Jewish understanding of the sabbath as a holy time of rest). Those who came late to the party, however, have ended up in seemingly endless post-doctoral programs, if they鈥檙e lucky, and if not, as members of the part-time teaching corps.

Too broke to retire

For the most part, I鈥檓 sympathetic to Barton鈥檚 argument. There are too many people who are at the top of various professional institutions 鈥� including our government (where an 81-year-old, under immense pressure, just not to try for a second term as president, while a is still stubbornly running for that same office).

However, I think Barton misses an important point when he claims that 鈥渙lder workers are postponing retirement 鈥� because they simply don鈥檛 want to quit.鈥� That may be true for high earners in white-collar jobs, but many other people continue working because they simply can鈥檛 afford to stop. Research in Forbes magazine a few years ago showed that more than one-fifth of workers over age 55 were then among the working poor. The figure rose to 26% for women of that age, and 30% for women 65 and older. In other words, if you鈥檙e still working in your old age, the older you are, the more likely it is that you鈥檙e poor.

Older workers also tend to be over-represented in certain low-paying employment arenas like housecleaning and home and personal health care. As Teresa Ghilarducci in that Forbes article:

Nearly one-third of home health and personal care workers are 55 or older. Another large category of workers employing a disproportionate share of older workers is maids and housekeeping cleaners, 29% of whom are 55 or older and 54% of whom are working poor. And older workers make up 34% of another hard job: janitorial services, about half of whom are working poor. (For a benchmark, 23% of all workers are 55 and up.)

We used to worry about 鈥�.鈥� Maybe now we should be more concerned about old people taking care of old people.

Why are so many older workers struggling with poverty? It doesn鈥檛 take a doctorate in sociology to figure this one out. People who can afford to retire have that option for a couple of reasons. Either they鈥檝e worked in high-salary, non-physical jobs that come with benefits like 401(k) accounts and gold-plated health insurance, or they鈥檝e been lucky enough to be represented by unions that fight for their members鈥� retirement benefits.

However, according to the , a non-profit organization working to expand financial security for retirees, just under half of those working in the non-governmental sector have no employment-based retirement plan at all. They have only Social Security to depend on, which the average retiree a measly $17,634 per year 鈥� not much more than you鈥檇 earn working full-time at the current federal minimum wage, which has been stuck at $7.25 an hour since 2009. Worse yet, if you鈥檝e worked at such low-paying jobs your entire life, you face multiple obstacles to a comfortable old age: pay too meager to allow you to save for retirement; lower Social Security benefits, because they鈥檙e based on your lifetime earnings; and, most likely, a body battered by decades of hard work.

Many millions of Americans in such situations work well past the retirement age, not because they 鈥渟imply don鈥檛 want to quit,鈥� but because they just can鈥檛 afford to do so.

On the road again

It鈥檚 autumn in an even-numbered year, which means I鈥檓 in Reno, Nevada, working on an electoral campaign, alongside canvassers from UNITE-HERE, the hospitality industry union. This is my fourth stint in Washoe County, this time as the training coordinator for folks from , the volunteer wing of this year鈥檚 political campaign. It鈥檚 no exaggeration to say that, in 2022, UNITE-HERE and Seed the Vote saved the Senate for the Democrats, re-electing Catherine Cortez Masto by fewer than 8,000 votes 鈥� all of them here in Washoe County.

This is a presidential election year, so we鈥檙e door-knocking for Kamala Harris, along with Jacky Rosen, who鈥檚 running for reelection to Nevada鈥檚 other Senate seat.

When I agreed to return to Reno, it was with a heavy heart. In my household, we鈥檇 taken to calling the effort to reelect Joe Biden 鈥渢he death march.鈥� The prospect of a contest between two elderly white men, the oldest for president, both of whom would be well over 80 by the time they finished a four-year term, was deeply depressing. While defeating Donald Trump was 鈥� and remains 鈥� an existential fight, a Biden鈥揟rump contest was going to be hard for me to face.

Despite his age, Joe Biden has been an effective president in the domestic arena. (His refusal to take any meaningful action to restrain the Israeli military in Gaza is another story.) He made good use of Democratic strength in Congress to pass important legislation like the Inflation Reduction Act. That kitchen-sink law achieved many things, including potentially reducing this country鈥檚 greenhouse gas emissions by 40% by 2030, allowing Medicare to negotiate drug prices directly with pharmaceutical companies while putting a $2,000 annual cap on Medicare recipients鈥� outlays for drugs, and lowering the price of 鈥淥bamacare鈥� premiums for many people.

Still, Biden鈥檚 advanced age made him a 鈥�, no good, very bad鈥� candidate for president. Admittedly, a win for 59-year-old Kamala Harris in Nevada won鈥檛 be a walk in the park either, but neither will it be the death march I鈥檇 envisioned.

Old and in the way?

Government, especially at the federal level, is clearly an arena where (to invert the pyramid metaphor) too many old people are clogging up the bottom of the funnel. Some of them, like House Speaker emerita Nancy Pelosi, remain in full possession of their considerable faculties. (She鈥檚 also had the grace to pass the torch of Democratic leadership in the House to the very able, and much younger, Hakeem Jeffries, representing the 8th District of New York.)

Others, like former California Senator Dianne Feinstein, held on, to paraphrase , long after they were gone. And had my own great heroine Ruth Bader Ginsberg had the grace to retire while Barack Obama was still president, we wouldn鈥檛 today be living under a Supreme Court with a six-to-three right-wing majority.

What about the situation closer to home? Have I also wedged myself into the bottom of the funnel, preventing the free flow of younger, more vigorous people? Or, to put the question differently, when is it my turn to retire?

I haven鈥檛 lived out the past three stints in Reno alone. My partner and I have always done them together, spending several months here working 18 hours a day, seven days a week. That鈥檚 what a campaign is, and it takes a lot out of you. I鈥檓 now 72 years old, while my is five years older. She was prepared to come to Reno again when we thought the contest would be Trump versus Biden. Once we knew that Harris would replace him, however, my partner felt enormous relief. Harris鈥檚 chances of beating Trump are 鈥� thank God 鈥� significantly better than Biden鈥檚 were. 鈥淚 would have done it when it was the death march,鈥� she told me, 鈥渂ut now I can be retired.鈥�

Until Harris stepped up, neither of us could imagine avoiding the battle to keep Trump and his vice presidential pick out of office. We couldn鈥檛 face a Trump victory knowing we鈥檇 done nothing to prevent it. But now my 77-year-old partner feels differently. She鈥檚 at peace with retirement in a way that, I must admit, I still find hard to imagine for myself.

I haven鈥檛 taught a college class since the spring semester of 2021. For the last few years, 滨鈥檝别 been telling people, 鈥淚鈥檓 sort of retired.鈥� The truth is that while you鈥檙e part of the vast army of the contingent, part-time faculty who teach the majority of college courses, it鈥檚 hard to know when you鈥檙e retired. There鈥檚 no retirement party and no 鈥渆merita鈥� status for part-timers. Your name simply disappears from the year鈥檚 teaching roster, while your employment status remains in a strange kind of limbo.

Admittedly, 滨鈥檝别 already passed a few landmarks on the road to retirement. At 65, I went on Medicare (!), though I held out until I reached 70 before maximizing my Social Security benefits. But I find it very hard to admit to anyone (even possibly myself) that I鈥檓 actually retired, at least when it comes to working for pay.

For almost two decades I could explain who I am this way: 鈥淚 teach ethics at the University of San Francisco.鈥� But now I have to tell people, 鈥淚鈥檓 not teaching anymore,鈥� before rushing to add, 鈥渂ut I鈥檓 still working with my union.鈥� And it鈥檚 true. I鈥檓 part of a 鈥渒itchen cabinet鈥� that offers advice to the younger people leading my part-time faculty union. I also serve on our contract negotiations team and have a small gig with my statewide union, the California Federation of Teachers. But this year I chose not to run for the policy board (our local鈥檚 decision-making body) because I think those positions should go to people who are still actually teaching.

Those small pieces of work are almost enough to banish the shame I鈥檇 feel acknowledging that I鈥檓 already in some sense retired. I suspect my aversion to admitting that I don鈥檛 work for pay anymore has two sources: a family that prized professional work as a key to life satisfaction and 鈥� despite my well-developed critique of capitalism 鈥� a continuing infection with the productivity virus, the belief that a person鈥檚 value can only be measured in hours of 鈥減roductive鈥� labor.

Under capitalism, a person who has no work 鈥� compensated or otherwise 鈥� can easily end up marginalized and excluded from meaningful participation in society. The political philosopher Iris Marion Young marginalization one of the most ominous forms of oppression in a liberal society. 鈥淢arginals,鈥� she wrote, 鈥渁re people the system of labor cannot or will not use,鈥� a dangerous condition under which a 鈥渨hole category of people is expelled from useful participation in social life and thus potentially subjected to severe material deprivation and even extermination.鈥�

Even when people鈥檚 material needs are met, as is the case for the luckiest retirees in this country, they can suffer profound loneliness and an unsettling disconnection from the social structures in which meaningful human activity takes place. I suspect it鈥檚 the fear of this kind of disconnection that keeps me from acknowledging that I might one day actually retire.

Jubilation and passing the torch

The other fear that keeps me working with my union, joining political campaigns, and writing articles like this one is the fear of the larger threats we humans face. We live in an age of catastrophes, present or potential. These include the possible annihilation of democratic systems in this country, the potential annihilation of whole peoples (, for example, or ), or indeed, the annihilation of our species, whether quickly in a nuclear war or more slowly through the agonizing effects of climate change.

But even in such an age, I suspect that it鈥檚 time for many of my generation to trust those coming up behind us and pass the torch. They may not be ready, but neither were most of us when someone shoved that cone of flame into our hands.

Still, if I can bring myself to let go and trust those coming after me, then maybe I鈥檒l be ready to embrace the idea behind one of my favorite Spanish words. In that language, you can say, 鈥淚鈥檓 retired鈥� (鈥�谤别迟颈谤补诲补鈥�), and it literally means 鈥減ulled back鈥� from life. But in Spanish, I can also joyfully call myself 鈥�jubilada,鈥� a usage that (like 鈥渟abbatical鈥�) also draws on a practice found in the Hebrew scriptures, the tradition of the , the sabbath of sabbaths, the time of emancipation of the enslaved, of debt relief, and the return of the land to those who work it.

Maybe it鈥檚 time to proudly accept not my retirement, but my future jubilation. But not quite yet. We still have an election to win.

[ first published this piece.]

The views expressed in this article are the author鈥檚 own and do not necessarily reflect 51吃瓜鈥檚 editorial policy.