Mankind’s quest for longevity is showing no sign of abating

Elderly man
Elderly man

Congratulations to Jimmy Carter, who has joined the global 0.0075 per cent. The former president turned 100 this week, making him one of an estimated 600,000-700,000 centenarians worldwide. When he was born, in 1924, this figure was tiny: just a few tens of thousands.

This surge in extreme longevity is the result of multiple advances over the course of President Carter’s lifetime: everything from mass vaccinations to improved sanitation and the invention of social welfare. In this country, it seems to be levelling off now – the number of centenarians in England and Wales actually dipped a little between 2022 and 2023. But this is mostly due to a demographic quirk. The return of soldiers after the First World War led to a big spike in birth rates, and thus a bulge of centenarians shortly after the 100th anniversary of the Armistice.

It’s a happy story all round: a story about new life bursting out from the ruins of war, and of multiple generations building a better, safer, healthier world. Strange then, how anxious it makes us.

There are, it’s true, significant costs that come with looking after a very elderly population. The strain on healthcare systems; the spiralling bills for pensions and social care; the economic circus act required to balance so many retirees atop a dwindling stem of working-age taxpayers.

But there are benefits, too. The elderly tend to be more law-abiding, less violent, much less prone to civil disorder. They have quietly taken on much of the unpaid labour that used to be done by married women: keeping an eye on the neighbourhood, providing informal childcare, gossiping over the garden fence (aka. building social relationships), and helping with charitable work. There are currently around 3.5 million retirees in this country doing voluntary work, contributing an estimated £15bn to the national economy.

Admittedly, not all pensioners are in good enough shape to be so productive. But the ones who survive into extreme old age tend, not coincidentally, to be the ones who stay physically and mentally robust for the longest. In the so-called Blue Zones – areas of the world with supposedly high ratios of centenarians in the population – the most striking thing about the elderly is their quality of life.

They eat mostly plants; drink in moderation; do gentle, naturally-occurring exercise, such as gardening or cleaning; have a sense of purpose; and above all, maintain strong bonds with family and friends. Dementia is rare, as is depression. It’s hard to distinguish causality from correlation – are they happier because they are more sociable, more sociable because they are healthier, healthier because they are happier? – but the end result is the kind of old age we might all pray for.

There is an assumption (especially among the young) that growing old is hell; that after a certain point you’d be better off “out of your misery”. But the first part of this equation need not always be true. And even when it is, the second part doesn’t automatically follow. The will to live can be extraordinarily strong, regardless of the quality of that life.

My grandmother, who was incredibly spry for most of her old age, used to insist that she wouldn’t mind dying at all. The sooner the better! Yet in her mid-90s, when she suddenly became frail and demented, her grip on life tightened like a fist. The ineffable value of simply being here, in the world, was revealed to her – just before it was taken away.