The Bible is full of rubrics concerning the old. Proverbs states that “gray hair is a crown of glory” (16:31) and the Psalmist (71:9) pleads not to be forsaken in old age. Leviticus reminds us to “honor the aged” (19:32). In the New Testament, Timothy’s first epistle advises not to rebuke an older man, but appeal to him as a father (5:1-2).

But the Scriptures are also realistic about human age limits. About 70 or 80 years are all we’ll get (Psalm 90:10). Levitical priests were aged out at 50 (Numbers 8:23-25). Elihu told Job that old age is no guarantee of wisdom (Job 32:9). And the Apostle Peter observed that all flesh is as grass which withers (I Peter 1:24).

However, many in our society refuse to acknowledge these inconvenient truths about our lifespans. Yes, modern medicine has, in myriad ways, increased quality of life. It has allowed many to survive and prosper who, in the past, would have died of untreatable diseases. However, for all our scientific advances, we don’t actually live any longer, on average, than our ancestors. So spending several million dollars yearly to stave off aging won’t actually work -- even when it creepily involves borderline vampirism.

One class of people that can’t seem to come to terms with getting old is, alas, politicians. We’ve seen President Biden repeatedly fall down, fall asleep, and fall into incomprehensibility during a speech. Recently Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell (R-KY) froze in mid-sentence. Poor Senator Diane Feinstein (D-CA) doesn’t even know where she is much of the time. Biden is 80, McConnell 81, Feinstein 90. Ditto for others in the Senate: Chuck Grassley (R-IA) is 89, Bernie Sanders (I-VT) 81. The median age of U.S. senators is 64, not far behind that of the oldest parliamentary body on earth: Britain’s House of Lords, 70. Nancy Pelosi (D-CA), still in the House at 83, was the nation’s oldest ever speaker two years ago. Overall, 19 members of Congress (House and Senate) are over 80. Biden’s likely 2024 opponent, former President Donald Trump, is 78. And Biden is already the oldest President ever. Remember when President Reagan was pilloried in 1984 for running again at… 69? (Of course, he put that criticism to rest quite adeptly during the campaign.)

Granted, being in your 70s or 80s does not automatically equate to senescence. Grassley, Sanders, and Trump all appear clear-headed. But it’s simply a scientific fact that cognitive decline starts around age 60 -- if not sooner -- for many. (No, adrenochrome won’t actually stop that.) But even if you’re an astute octogenarian, should you really be making policy for a citizenry which is, on average, 40 years younger? If you don’t know anything about social media, or even how to work email, you’re out of touch. That’s certainly what a majority of Americans think.

This isn’t just ageism. Does anyone really think that Joe Biden is competent to decide on possible deployment of nuclear weapons? Especially when the Russians are threatening to go nuclear over Ukraine? In a sane world he would already have been removed under the 25^th Amendment. But his handlers were savvy enough to pick someone as Vice-President whose cognitive impairment owes nothing to age. Why should Mitch McConnell worry about our $32 trillion debt? He won’t be around to suffer its consequences. Yes, the demographic of Americans over 65 is the most rapidly growing. But that doesn’t mean our leadership should go into Abe Simpson mode. Granted, Moses was 80, and Aaron 83, when they confronted Pharaoh (Exodus 7:7). But God had their back. And Ramses II didn’t have nukes, like Vladimir Putin or Xi Jinping. Then there are other potential threats besides national debt and thermonuclear war. Our own federal security services, and so on. Perhaps younger, more flexible elected leadership might actually dare to take on such issues.

J.R.R. Tolkien wrote about a civilization that was brought down by those who feared aging and death. Thousands of years before the events of The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings, there was the great island civilization of Númenor. This powerful kingdom of Men was famed for its nobility, exploratory sea voyages, and opposition to Sauron. The Númenóreans lived hundreds of years, far longer the normal Men. But even that wasn’t enough. Eventually they desired to live forever, like the Elves. And so -- with a great deal of “advice” from Sauron, whom they had defeated and taken home as a hostage -- Númenor turned its great battle fleet on the archangelic Valar who were present in, and ruled, the world, in order to seize immortality. In response, the one God of Tolkien’s universe, Eru, sank Númenor beneath the ocean.

How did it come to that? Gandalf explained, in The Lord of the Rings: The Return of the King Extended Edition. “Kings made tombs more splendid than houses of the living” and “counted the omens of their descent dearer than the names of their sons” while “childless lords sat in aged halls musing on heraldry.” Millennia later, in LotR, Aragorn as King of Gondor -- which had been founded by the Númenóreans -- avoided this mistake. He accepted old age and, indeed, death, telling his wife Arwen that he would not “wither and fall from my high seat unmanned and witless.” He cared more about his realm than clinging to personal power and ignoring his own mortality. Unlike his ancestors. Or much of America’s current ruling class.

It's probably too much to expect our leaders to emulate the noblest character in the greatest fantasy story of all time. But maybe they could be like another hero of that tale, Samwise Gamgee. In the appendices to LotR  we learn that Sam, after helping destroy the One Ring, returned home and was elected mayor of the Shire seven times. He then stepped aside for younger leadership.

And Hobbits didn’t even have term limits.­­­­­­­

Timothy R. Furnish, PhD (History) is a writer, professor and Army veteran. He’s published books on the Middle East and Middle-earth. He blogs @occidentaljihadist.com

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