From birth to death our lives are marked by milestones that change our personal ambitions our perspectives on loved ones, friends and society. Each chapter in life offers new challenges and rewards, but retirement for some is an episode that is fraught with much angst over lost prestige or financial stability. For me, retirement was like a lucky dip because it meant leaving a rat race that I’d been running since the age of seven, when I started my working life as a child labourer. But for others, forced retirement can seem like a death sentence because they define their value in society by their work title.
To a pair of magistrates in Blackpool, their scheduled retirement at 70 as prescribed by law has made them protest against their removal from the bench in verse. They aren’t wrong to decry in doggerel the fact that while their mental and physical functions are still on top form, their employment by the Ministry of Justice is being terminated. It’s a valid point considering that in the private sector, mandatory retirement was effectively scrapped a long time ago. It also makes sense that a government that is as driven by market forces as Cameron’s follows suit and allows those who are able and willing to continue their careers in justice for as long as they are healthy.
However the media focus on those happy few who like their vocation – compared to the majority who work to live – obscures a greater tragedy: those who deserve retirement but can’t, due to a never-ending cost of living crisis. I feel very fortunate that I don’t have to experience what most modern retirees face today, being forced to work past their sell-by date to keep a roof over their heads. According to the King’s Fund, 58% of people over the age of 60 have a chronic condition. As the body deteriorates over time, these will worsen, making either their mobility or cognitive decisions more cumbersome.
So at 92, I know I am the exception to the rule, because the last time I drew a regular pay packet was 28 years ago, when I retired at the age of 64. My wife died at 70 and none of my childhood friends survived past 84. Moreover, I retired in a more stable environment that allowed me to put together a modest but sufficient pension pot. Today, a housing crisis, coupled with the cost of higher education for themselves or their children, means few can salt away sufficient means to tide them over during a short retirement – let alone into their 80s and 90s.
Those in middle age may want to emulate someone like me, blessed with both good genes and luck, but the reality for them is already fixed on an actuary’s timetable that never favours the old. Recent medical statistics about the dramatic rise in strokes among those of working age demonstrates a disturbing trend towards ill-health. In a few short years, the stress of living in austere times might make getting a state pension at 67 as difficult as reaching the summit of Everest for an average mountain climber.
There is also something paternalistic about seniors who believe that they possess the wisdom of the ages, but lack the selflessness to know that the old must make way for the young. The old have a great many talents that should be used for the benefit of society, but unless we surrender our dominance in senior levels of management in the workforce we will stunt the growth of a new generation.
Since retirement, I’ve haven’t had a job title, but I was fortunate enough to know that I still mattered to my family and my society. My retirement has had its rough patches but it has also given me the opportunity to explore both my own journey and also help some others along the way. We have to ensure that more people get my lucky break in old age, not less. One way is for those judges to step aside and mentor while younger magistrates render justice.
