Ageing disgracefully

The demographic trends are undeniable: The world’s population is ageing, and in countries such as China and Japan has even started shrinking. In Britain people aged 65 and older are more than a fifth of the population. And they want to have fun. In a way, those over the age of 55 but under the age of 75—roughly speaking, the baby-boomers and some of what is referred to as “Generation X”—are the new problem generation.

In the two decades to 2023 the proportion of people aged 18 to 34 in America who “ever have occasion to use alcoholic beverages” declined from 72% to 62%, according to Gallup, a pollster. Yet among those over 55 alcohol use increased to 59% from 49%. This seems to be the trend across the rich world: While younger people generally drink less and use less drugs, older folks seem to use more of such mind altering substances.

Much of this has probably to do with the fact that in particular the boomers grew up in the 1960s and 1970s, an era known for flower power, psychedelic drugs and promiscuity. Having worked hard and being retired now, many enjoy the fruit of their pensions and savings by letting their hair down.

And they do so increasingly on their own: Divorce rates in the rich world are generally falling (in large part because far fewer people are getting married in the first place), but they are rising among pensioners. In 2022 more Japanese couples divorced after at least 20 years of marriage than ever before, even though the rates have declined among younger groups.

What we are witnessing, then, is nothing less than the great cultural revenge of the over‑55s. After decades of being told they were clogging up the housing market, ruining the climate, and voting for things that gave the young hives, they are finally living their best lives—often chemically enhanced. It is the first time in history that the older generation isn’t merely “acting young”; they are outperforming the young at their own supposed hobbies.

The stereotype used to be that pensioners spent their days queueing at the post office, complaining about the weather, and maintaining suspiciously high sugar intake via supermarket fruitcake. Now many of them are organising microdosing circles, attending DJ‑led “yoga raves”, and discussing which THC gummies pair best with a Bordeaux. I suspect the only reason the daily papers haven’t printed a moral‑panic headline like “Grandad Off His Trolley Again” is that most of the editorial staff are in the same demographic and rather like the idea of swapping horseradish for hash.

Young people, meanwhile, are deep into sobriety, mindfulness, and the kind of general wellness that used to be the natural habitat of Californian cults. They drink kombucha, not lager. They meditate, but not in the fun, slightly dangerous 1970s sense where someone in sandals and a kaftan tried to levitate. They do “digital detoxes” in which they turn off their phones—something the older generation does too, mostly because they keep forgetting the password.

The boom in “grey divorce” fits neatly into this new era. Many couples, it seems, spend 40 years together, survive children, mortgages, and endless IKEA trips, only to look across the breakfast table during retirement and think, “Good heavens, not this again.” For some, the catalyst appears to be the sudden realisation that—with their sprightly lifestyle choices—they may actually live until 90, and the prospect of doing so with the same person who chews cereal too loudly is simply too much to bear.

In Japan, it is now apparently so common for couples to split after decades of marriage that the media have a term for it: retirement divorce. I imagine the conversation often begins with something like, “Darling, now that we finally have time for each other, I’ve realised I’d much rather have time for myself.” And off they go—one to tango classes, the other to a mushroom‑infused hiking retreat.

But the most amusing element of this generational turnaround is that the older cohort, for the first time since the invention of the Beatles, is the demographic doing things “wrong” according to societal scolds. Once upon a time, young people were supposed to be the reckless ones: smoking, swearing, drinking, dancing, trying out God‑knows‑what in a field. Now it’s the retirees doing tequila shots at 3pm because “it’s five o’clock somewhere,” while young adults politely refuse a glass of wine because it might compromise their sleep hygiene.

If this continues, governments will soon be forced to issue public‑health campaigns aimed squarely at pensioners, with slogans such as “Know Your Limits: Wednesday Bingo Does Not Require Psychedelics” or “Please Stop Pouring Vodka Into the Birdbath.” Meanwhile younger generations will sit in the corner, soberly knitting their anxiety blankets, wondering what on earth happened.

Perhaps the real explanation is simple: After a lifetime of stressing about careers, mortgages, children, and the increasingly creative ways governments find to tax them, the over‑55s have collectively decided that if the world is going to collapse in a heap of geopolitical instability, they might as well be pleasantly buzzed when it happens.

And honestly? Who can blame them.

(Those of you who have been following this blog for a while know that I too fall into this age group of over 55s. Having said that, me, my wife and our friends and family live boring and traditional lives, completely different from what apparently a growing number of oldies are up to. Hence why I have written this blog post in the third person.)