Active, happy, socially-conscious, and healthy: the over-50s are a far cry from their ailing, cantankerous stereotypes, writes Kathy Sheridan
Foolish political parties. According to the organisers of the forthcoming Over 50s Show at the RDS, not one of them has booked a stand. Yes, it is true that this year's show is sponsored by Specsavers, with the usual supporting cast from the likes of Big Pharma (hypertension, erectile dysfunction, prostate issues) and Golden Charter (pay for your own funeral). But many in this age group are a long way from God's waiting room.
We now know from the Irish Times/TNS mrbi 50+ survey that this is an extraordinarily happy, healthy, socially-conscious group. Despite the vast diversity of age and generations within the sample, a startling nine out of 10 say they are happy with life.
They do not fret endlessly about their health; only 6 per cent say they are extremely concerned or worried about it. In fact, in a series of questions relating to health, crime, immigration, global warming, international terrorism and the cost of living, the issue most were "extremely" or "very" concerned about was the manner in which the US and its allies are conducting the war on international terrorism. (It's worth emphasising that this was a national sample, and not confined to a group of Dart-line, hand-wringing, pinko-lefty Irish Times readers).
What it proves is that stereotypes such as the cantankerous old codger and the timid little gran are just that. Earlier this year, the Guardian carried a report on the rescue of a couple of transatlantic sailors, aged 64 and 68, beginning as follows: "Most retired people are content to fill their days doting on grandchildren, creating their ideal garden, and taking relaxing holidays." An indignant reader wrote in to ask whether, if the couple had been under 25, "would the lead have been 'Most young people are content to fill their days drinking themselves senseless, watching crap TV, and shagging as much as possible. . . ?'"
For women, although they live longer than men and tend to be more resilient in old age, the media stereotype of helplessness and dependence is even sharper. The 92-year-old woman who abseiled down a 220ft tower block was "Danger Gran" to the Daily Mirror and "Action Nan" to the Sun, but certainly not as a remarkable woman in her own right. The headline writers are lagging far behind reality. This is partly because the old boys (and some old girls) who run things tend not to employ people their own age. As one writer has put it, "they like being grand old birds surrounded by a mass of chirping inexperienced youth . . . Perhaps they fear being seen through by people who understand them".
Anna Ford, who left the BBC this year after 27 years, remarked on British television's insistence on young presenters: "I don't think the people you see on our screens reflect the people out there, and I'm sure the public would like that - people with character, people with lines on their faces, people who have had experiences of life."
Instead, the marketeers seem gloriously oblivious that the group aged 80 and over is the fastest-growing age group in the world, rising by 3.9 per cent a year. By 2030, half the population of western Europe will be over 50, with a predicted average life expectancy at age 50 of a further 40 years. In other words, half of western Europe's population will be between the ages of 50 and 100.
In Ireland, the over-50s already comprise a quarter of the population; by 2036, this will probably have risen to 40 per cent (and - warning! - will include those who think their own youth is never-ending).
AS GERONTOLOGY SPECIALIST Prof Desmond O'Neill points out, longevity can release creativity. "Frank Lloyd Wright designed the Guggenheim Museum in New York in his 70s. The late plays and poetry of Yeats and Beckett, the mature paintings of Tony O'Malley and Jack B Years or the music from Elliott Carter's 10th decade are other reminders of what we have gained." He could have included 65-year-old Bob Dylan, who this week became the oldest living person to go straight to number one in the US, Ireland and the UK album charts.
John Low, editor of the Senior Times magazine and a promoter of the Over 50s Show, is bemused at the lack of corporate interest in this age group or segments of it. "One of our survey findings last year was that of those who own a mobile phone, half of them text. Yet where do you hear of the special deals for this older group? Why is it so hard to get motor insurance or travel insurance? Why does the BreastCheck programme cut off the over-65s? It's nothing short of a scandal."
Efforts by insurance and car rental companies to put a stop to the gallop of the third agers continue. The landmark victory of 77-year-old Jim Ross and the Equality Tribunal over Royal and Sun Alliance's refusal of a motor insurance quotation (in which the company's actuarial data did not stand up) set a precedent. Yet it didn't stop US-owned Hertz refusing to rent a car to an 80-year-old man this summer, on insurance grounds. The nonsense is that they would not have got away with it in the US. The difference now is blanket bans will not be tolerated.
Far from being a negative, the fact that more than 10 per cent of discrimination cases under Irish equality law are age-related means that people are becoming more aware of their rights and are willing to pursue them.
Meanwhile, the earth has been shifting beneath the feet of the stereotypers in other ways. On the traditionally divisive issues, only 25 per cent of those in the Irish Times/TNS mrbi survey now believe that divorce is morally wrong and even fewer see anything morally wrong with artificial contraception. Nearly a third believe that gay marriage should be allowed and two-thirds accept that abortion may be necessary to save the life of the mother. In a cohort that professes itself to be 90 per cent "practising" Catholic, nearly 40 per cent have doubts about an afterlife. These views are not so far removed from those of younger age groups.
"It seems that the community element of society is much less caring," says 67-year-old Allen Smith (see panel), "and yet I see my children, with their children, and I'm surprised that they got married in view of the way they would talk about it growing up."
It's also clear from the survey that the over-50s do not sit at home agitating about the meaning of life or communing only with Vera Duckworth. Nearly half eat out or go to the pub at least once or twice a month. More than two-thirds entertain friends or relatives at home at least as often. They are avid readers of newspapers and books, have friends and family to turn to for comfort and take regular trips abroad. Seventy per cent own a mobile phone, and of the 44 per cent with internet access, a third are into online banking, two-thirds use it for travel purposes, and 82 per cent are regular e-mailers.
They talk of enjoying a better standard of living, of having more time for themselves, of feeling needed, of finally being appreciated for what they are and do.
MARGARET O'CONNELL (80), from Ballyhaise, Co Cavan, a mother of four who lost her "great" husband in 1995, has her own quarters in the home of her daughter and son-in-law, and looks after their three young children while the couple are out at work. "I love being here for the children. It makes my whole life having to mind them. And yes, I think I'm better thought of now than I was. When I do something for people, someone says 'thank you'. . . Absolutely I felt that mothers in the home were taken for granted."
Despite battles with recurring TB all her life, which have left her on "bags" of medication, including steroids, she has "absolutely not slowed down" and still drives everywhere - "I could not enjoy my life without a car" - and often drives her friends to the theatre, does intricate embroidery, cultivates a large garden, and is suspiciously content to have one of her four offspring settled in Florida. (For a keen traveller, it beats Carrickmacross as a destination.) This year, she will be among 150 members of the dynamic Cavan and Monaghan Active Ageing group travelling to Turkey for a touring holiday.
To those who believe that climate change is a concern only for the young, Margaret is a living retort. She travelled to Alaska a couple of years ago and saw for herself the "greenery coming up through the glaciers". As for the war on terrorism, she needs no prompting either: "I think it's time we did something about George Bush . . . We truly don't want to be involved in that. But have we a political leader with the strength to stand up to them?"
Her view chimes perfectly with Ian Averill's. A self-confessed worrier and pessimist, he confesses to mild concerns about inflation and the cost of living, but is "far more worried" about how the US and its allies "are behaving at the moment. I've been on one or two marches. It's potentially far more serious for the whole world." Meanwhile, he is reconciling himself to the fact that global warming and the fall-out for cheap flights will probably thwart plans for regular, low-price city breaks across Europe. But also looking at his friends, he notes a strong tendency towards becoming "unofficial baby minders" on the one hand, and on the other - "just as you think you're sailing towards your 60s and into clear financial waters" - their longer-living parents suddenly begin to need more intensive, expensive care.
"On a mercenary level, a lot of people would expect to benefit financially from parents passing on . . . Now more and more are getting Alzheimer-like conditions and that's what's chewing up the money. They are having to go into private nursing homes - the big, new money-makers - and their houses have to be sold to pay for it."
This concern about where society is headed, amid a booming economy, is very evident in the Irish Times/TNS mrbi survey. While more than two-thirds are happy with the way the economy is developing at the moment, more than half are unhappy with the way society is going.
"New mothers, they just don't seem to understand what life was like before. The attitude to money is so different now," says Margaret O'Connell. "I remember when the children's allowance came in. It wasn't so important to me - my husband was a civil engineer - but I certainly remember what it meant to people. They're not so careful now. Mothers say they have to work now. I believe they should be at home with their children . . . I'll probably get hit over the head for saying that but I think I can say what I like now."
Joan Bennett, who is hectically busy and turns 70 tomorrow, is also bemused at younger generations' attitude to credit. "We'd have been sick at the thought of going into debt. Even now, if I wanted something, I'd still save for it."
JOAN BENNETT HAS deep concerns about her personal security. "I'd be worried about going out at night alone and at home when you're on your own, you would be worried at noises. The house is alarmed and that gives you a feeling of security, but it's still a worry."
Margaret O'Connell lies in bed and worries about her "little grandchildren. Every night there is a stabbing in Dublin and the vicious circle of people from other places carrying knives and our poor lads then having to carry knives to protect themselves."
They are aware that as a group, older people are portrayed in a negative way, in the language of burden, blocking, time-bomb. "In a lot of cases," says Margaret, "the people being pointed at have paid their dues. We lived in a time when you got no help."
For all that, none of these people feel that society has discriminated against them. "I don't feel discriminated against at all," says Joan. "The only discrimination I have ever found was in travel insurance," says Margaret. "I was upset . . . no, I was raging." A phone call from the friendly bank official who had refused her (merely stating bank policy) directed her to a more obliging company. She had no further problems.
At the Over 50s Show, says John Low, there won't be a chairlift in sight, never mind a "mobility section". Stands on health and well-being are by far the most popular, followed by holidays at home and abroad. But a third of last year's visitors asked for more on hobbies and pastimes at this year's event - a sign of the times.
"Ah yes, on balance I think things are better," says Margaret in her rural fastness. "As bad as they are, they're not as bad as all that. When I moved here there were two industries - a bacon factory and a paint factory. Now there's as much employment here as a graduate could want. The children do go away to study but now they're coming back. I'm only hoping that, now they're building a third-level college in Cavan, our children won't have to go to Dublin with all the knives."
In Finglas, Joan is equally happy. "I'm very content with my life. I just want to be happy, be healthy. I have everything I need."
Ian Averill (58)
A father of two grown children, will be taking voluntary severance this month after 34 years working in freight with Irish Rail
"Am I looking forward to it? Yes and no. Working for a semi-State company is very comfortable, which was one of the reasons always for not moving on. And of course you usen't be able to move your pension. It's frightening now in the sense that you're moving out to a world you have never experienced. This is after months of looking at figures, and as my wife would tell you, I have a terrible streak of pessimism. But Irish Rail is one of the few remaining companies where employers get a benefit-defined pension".
In 1986, at the age of 35, he worked in Ethiopia as an aid worker for six months. "I realised then that that was what I really wanted to do but it took 20-25 years with the mortgage and kids and family to get into the position where I could do it."
The plan is to study at Kimmage Manor (headquarters of the Holy Ghost Fathers) for a two-year BA in development studies and bring that, along with his transport specialism, to work for an aid organisation.
For now, ageism carries no fears for him. "There is definitely an ageism problem but I don't think it's age-related. It's just that employees know that older people are going to want a decent wage, so younger people are cheaper." He and his wife want to travel and they're currently in a walking group where the leader is in his 70s. "We come from a generation where people were much more into sport and getting out . . . I can see terrible problems in generations to come among those who have grown up sitting in front of computers."
Joan Bennett (69)
She celebrates her 70th birthday tomorrow with her nine surviving children, who all live within a few miles of her home in Finglas in Dublin. Her husband was 59 when he was killed in a road accident in 1993
"I'd never think about what age I am. I feel 16. The key for me is just to get up and do it," she says, describing a full life devoted to raising her large family, working as a shop assistant for a time, followed by activism and voluntarism. A volunteer with the senior citizen helpline and in the kitchen of Odins Wood daycare centre, she is also trained in the peer advocacy programme to speak up for others, is secretary to the Finglas division of the senior citizens parliament, and has been a member of the local choir for 30 years. "I know society sees me as an oldie, an OAP, someone who's getting past it," she says without rancour. She has witnessed "deplorable" treatment of older people in hospital, but personally, she says, "I feel my life is good. Really, I'm very content. I feel I've more time for me, more time for the real Joan. Old age pensioners are doing quite well - although there's always room for improvement. I look at my family and compare their lifestyle to the one we had and they can really do and get whatever they want. They may be in debt but it doesn't seem to bother them."
Divorce? Cohabitation? "I would have thought it was a sin years ago, things like living together and that. But it's a way of life. I certainly don't think it's a sin now. Were we eejits? Absolutely. These are all man-made rules . . ."
Allen Smith (67)
A father of five grown children. Retired as an architect from the Office of Public Works two years ago
"When retirement time came, I had no regrets. I felt 'my life is changing'," he says. "I did the retirement course and knew my outside interests would occupy me." Jazz and cricket were always important parts of his life. He founded Jazz on the Terrace in 1982 and now acts as an unpaid agent and facilitator, bringing foreign and Irish musicians together for Irish tours, financed by grants he cleverly extracts from various bodies.
Cricket also remains a major passion and he is the fixtures secretary for Leinster Cricket Club in Rathmines: "I'm still relatively fit, though I think I'm stretching the limit at this stage . . . " He knows he is blessed with good health, a good pension (his wife has also just retired form the Civil Service) and a comfortable middle-class lifestyle. "Look at the other side and you see people my age who worked as a labourer or a carpenter and many have to still keep working. It's so easy for me to do the things I do. There's nothing taxing for me. I have VHI, a terraced house in a Georgian square in Rathmines, all the comforts. I'm a cosseted kind of person. I think I'm happy. I have friends. I don't have to worry about where the next meal is coming from. Our children are grown up and I think their lives are quite rich and we have lived to see grandchildren coming along . . . "