Chapter 13

The Midlife Rebirth

Age is an issue of mind over matter. If you don’t mind, it doesn’t matter.

—Mark Twain, author

He was just shy of his 56th birthday when he first took political office as Governor of California. He was less than a month away from turning 70 when he was inaugurated as the 40th President of the United States, the only one in history to have been divorced and remarried. During his Presidential reelection bid, the old-timer faced a contender 17 years his junior who was determined to make the incumbent’s age an issue in the campaign. In the now-famous 1984 debate between then-President Ronald Reagan and opponent Walter Mondale, the “Gipper” (Reagan’s nickname based on a role he played during his earlier acting career) quipped, “I will not make age an issue in this campaign. I am not going to exploit for political purposes my opponent’s youth and inexperience.”1 Reagan was reelected to four more years in office and remains the oldest person to occupy the highest position in the United States, retiring at the age of 77.

She was 49 years old when her first cookbook, Mastering the Art of French Cooking, was published. Her popular television show, The French Chef, debuted when she was 50. Eighteen years later, Julia Child founded The American Institute of Wine & Food to “advance the understanding, appreciation and quality of wine and food,” fulfilling her lifelong passion.2

Grandma Moses began painting at 75. Laura Ingalls Wilder was 65 when she started writing The Little House on the Prairie series. Tim Zagat was 44 when he launched the now famous Zagat Restaurant Guide. At 70, Golda Meier became the fourth prime minister of Israel. Nelson Mandela became the oldest elected president of South Africa at the age of 74, after surviving a life of imprisonment and apartheid.3

These are not simply the extraordinary stories of the chosen few who stumbled upon success later in life, but the reflection of hope that exists as one continues to mature in the later years. You may believe that late bloomers are more the exception than the rule, with all the pop culture references to the so-called midlife crisis. Western cultures, in particular, are taught that midlife is a period to be dreaded. You’re “over the hill,” devoid of prospects, menopausal if you’re a woman, andropausal if you’re a man, and generally thought to be slowly deteriorating as you mark time toward your conclusive, inevitable death.

Much as this makes for the fascinating fodder of prime-time sitcoms, big-screen dramas, and stereotypical advertisements, there is evidence to suggest that the midlife crisis is hardly the rule. In fact, as opposed to the gross generalizations that characterize the midlife period of our lives to be fraught with uncertainty and challenge, for the vast majority—in at least one comprehensive research endeavor—it is actually a stabilizing time of harmony and confidence.

The MacArthur project was a series of 11 studies involving approximately 8,000 men and women in the United States ranging in age from 25 to 74. The researchers defined midlife as the time stretching from 30 to 70 years of age, with ages 40 to 60 as the core. In one of the studies, nearly all respondents recognized the term midlife crisis, yet only 23 percent reported to having experienced one. When researchers dug further, they discovered that only eight percent tied the emotional struggle to the realization that they were aging. The remaining 15 percent reported experiencing a stressful period during their middle-age years but that the crisis was a result of a transition, not aging. “When you look more closely, they are saying this is my crisis that occurred when I was 40 years old rather than what caused it was the fact that I was 40,” reports Elaine Wethington, a research team member. Those stressful transitions leading to crisis include divorce, loss of a job, death of a child, serious illness of a close friend or relative, and severe financial problems.4

Yes, I Can

Beyond the obvious personal and professional accomplishments of those luminaries referenced at the beginning of this chapter, what is amazing is that these individuals overwhelmingly reached their pinnacle of success long before the seeds of a networked-community age were planted. There was no Internet to further Reagan’s campaign. No online bookstores where Julia Child could self-publish and distribute her masterpieces (particularly interesting given that her first cookbook, now a landmark in culinary history, was rejected by its initial publisher). No social media comingled with mobile location–based applications to give Zagat’s review guide more wind in its sails. These legends attained success despite the lack of technology, not because it existed. Yet, as we have seen in the other life stages, technology is augmenting the landscape with new possibilities to propel midlifers forward. Also, as respondents in our study reflect, those possibilities are not reserved for the young, but for the young-at-heart.

Although not natives of the networked-community age that pervasively surrounds them, midlifers in our study demonstrate an appetite that makes them increasingly part of this world nonetheless. Their behaviors run the gamut of presentation, protection, and preference categories. More than half spend time updating their social networking page to project the right image of themselves. Nearly 90 percent visit the websites of their favorite brands to find out about the latest coupons and offers. More than half are very or somewhat comfortable sharing information online if it helps them find people or items of interest.

Respondents in our ethnography study paint a vibrant picture of today’s midlifer to support the statistical findings from our quantitative phase. Charles, in the midst of midlife as a 50-something, reflects the forever-young attitude we found to be far more pervasive than a woe-is-me mind-set. The online world affords new opportunities for learning, and yesterday’s misconceptions as to who is engaging—even hacking—among us are as dated and useful as your grandmother’s rotary telephone.

I’m very interested in the Android phones and I do a lot of research on that and do a lot of hacking and customizing of it. I just go online and do a lot of research reading different things to try to learn as much as I can about it. […] I’m like a sponge. Twitter I like because I follow a lot of different types of things and I soak in the information.

For others like Melinda, our retired empty nester, who may be a bit more cautious of technology, there is still a healthy willingness to learn, if for no other reason than to pass the time productively and generate a newfound sense of accomplishment.

I’ll take the CDs and discs—I can’t be calling them [her sons] to reinstall or redo things if the computer freezes or whatnot so I’ll pull different programs that I have to see what I can do on my own. And I feel pretty good. I’ll even call the cable company and I’ll have people walk me through things. I feel like I’m old enough and I should know more so I go from that standpoint. And I learn even more now how to walk through and take care of any techno problem I have. Or, I’ll go into Fry’s or Best Buy and I’ll ask questions or stand there by the service desk. I’ve got a lot of time to kill.

Melinda’s reference to time is an interesting one. For those in midlife, particularly in later midlife as in Melinda’s case, fixed incomes are the norm. It would appear obvious, as a result, that Melinda’s valuation of her own time is less than that of her finite bank account. At the same time, Melinda is a retiree, therefore the surplus of time by her own measure further exacerbates this point. However, the time-versus-money dilemma is one attribute shared by older and younger generations.

For example, in our own study, we heard from several younger respondents willing to forego traditional services, like paid television services, in favor of online alternatives. Some would argue that this is a case of need. There is no perceived need for paid television services among some when online content is available at a discount; therefore, younger consumers opt to pull the plug on traditional paid television services. There is certainly some truth to this argument. However, along with older respondents, younger cohorts are among the least likely to pay for personalized content available anytime, anywhere. With more time than money on their hands, there is less of an opportunity cost incurred when meticulously searching for these programs on their own.

Indeed, scientific evidence among undergraduate students supports a greater valuation for money over time, given the ambiguous nature of time and its intrinsic flexibility (for example, weekend time is valued differently than workday time).5 Although significant online behavioral differences between young and old in our study prevail, the commonality of valuing money over time exists, leading to at least one similarity in an aversion to a personalized content service shared by both ends of the age spectrum.

For older respondents in our study, time is not to be wasted. We heard from others like Melinda with an appetite for self-education of the pitfalls and potentials in an online world. One of our more colorful ethnography respondents is Denise, a 50-something remarried widow with an interest in vampires (yes, the bloodsucking variety) and death metal music. Despite her eccentric tastes, Denise comes from a fairly conservative family. When challenged by her sister, who became concerned with the questionable content Denise was posting on her Facebook page, Denise was quick to educate her ignorant sibling as to how the game of social networking is actually played—a topic she had thoroughly researched herself before attempting to navigate uncharted virtual waters.

I love vampires—anything vampires I love. Not just because of that show but because I like vampires. My sister’s very, very religious and she calls me up and ripped me a new a**hole and said, “Why are you doing this [posting this content on your Facebook page]?” and I said, “Why do you care?” [Sister said] “Well all my friends can read it,” and I said, “No, because I did this [established blocks]”. Well she didn’t believe me. So, Facebook for Dummies, I was flying those pages out and highlighting them. Guess who’s got the book?

Denise is a particularly savvy user of Facebook, so much so, in fact, that she has rigged her profile to detect when she and someone else not in her network have at least 10 “friends” in common. Her computer then sends an automated Friend Request to the unknown person on Denise’s behalf with an invitation to join her network, given the mutual friends the two strangers have in common. You would expect this to be more typical behavior of a 20-something digital native, not a 50-something digital immigrant. Although Denise is an outlier in her demographic with respect to this carefree approach to social networking, what she does share in common with her cohort is a zeal for equipping herself with technology knowledge. Whereas Denise chooses to use this knowledge to reveal herself to others who share her peculiar tastes in death metal music and vampires, other midlifers self-educate to protect themselves from those with questionable intentions. But don’t picture this as digital cocooning. Although it is true that midlifers don’t enthusiastically practice as many online behaviors as frequently as their younger counterparts, they won’t be left behind entirely. They are simply more likely to be armored or calculated when they do engage online, to mitigate the invisible risks that may be lying in wait.

No, You Can’t

As one ages, there is more time to acquire wealth and establish a reputation. As such, there is also more to lose as one matures in life. To win the elusive trust of a midlifer, companies must first break through the walls of skepticism that have had some time to harden over the years, established and reinforced through personal experiences and those of others. Emma, our unemployed former health worker, opines about the price of information in a networked-community age:

To me, I don’t trust any of those companies that say, “Well, we promise we won’t sell your information” or “We’ll keep it private.” I don’t trust any company like that. I’m sure there’s some price that somebody’s willing to pay that they would accept it. It’s about money. That’s just my opinion. It’s about money.

There are many ugly stereotypes propagated by Western cultures about aging. One stereotype shattered by our study is the notion that older individuals are more susceptible to being too trusting—and are easy prey for the duping. Emma is representative of her demographic. She is far more likely to exercise caution precisely to avoid the consequences of more reckless (some may say trusting) behaviors. Older respondents are far less likely to shop online using a public Wi-Fi hotspot, ignore a browser warning of a security threat, or use recommendation engines to discover goods and services in alignment with their unique preferences. To this latter point, one could question if the use of these tools is resisted precisely because of Emma’s concern above (everyone’s information is available at a price, thereby increasing the risk factor of exposing one’s preferences to potentially unscrupulous companies) or if today’s engines simply misfire on the preference filter. Consider her observation about Amazon [Emma takes us to her Amazon.com personal page]:

Researcher: If you go back to the main page of Amazon, do you ever scroll down below that [to the Recommendations area] or do you always just go right to what you’re looking for?

Emma: I usually just go right to what I’m looking for.

Researcher: So what happens when you scroll down there [to the Recommendations section]? What do you find?

Emma: Just things that I’m actually not looking for. [Laughs]

Although some may ridicule older respondents for what may be considered overly cautious behavior, the social dividends appear to be paying off. These respondents also admit to being far less likely to post an update about themselves or their families that they later regret sharing, correct offensive posts about themselves online, or ignore a Friend Request because they didn’t want the person to see their posts.

At the same time, contrary to the gross generalization that mischaracterizes older individuals as being naive and easy targets for criminals, these respondents are no more likely to have been victimized by online fraudsters than younger consumers. Perhaps this goes to a key difference in how these older respondents psychologically identify themselves vis-à-vis those younger whippersnappers. Older respondents are more likely to self-identify as being private and careful—closely managing how and where they are and what they are doing online with others. Consider the sage advice offered by Bob, a midlife father of three teenage girls, as he counsels them on the potential perils awaiting the naive online:

Well, there was a story within the last few weeks or so, of a girl who wrote on her Facebook and she wrote something like, “John and I are going to the concert to see such-and-such play,” or whatever. So another person looked up where that concert was, called the bar and said, “What time is the concert?” and so now knew the house would be empty between these hours of the concert, went to the house and robbed the house while they were at the concert.

As a result, Bob exercises caution with what he and his family reveal about their household online. He carefully controls what is posted and, more importantly, what is not (such as sensitive address information that could potentially endanger his family or belongings). This need for control is a commonality shared by respondents across our study and corroborated by the above-referenced MacArthur project. Although researchers involved in this series of studies dispelled many myths about midlife, most notably that most of us are destined to face a crisis simply through the realization of our own mortality, one finding was universal. As Americans, we strive to be in control of our lives. Although many would assume that, as we get older, we feel more distressed because of a lack of control (ostensibly resulting in or arising from the popularized midlife crisis), the MacArthur researchers discovered quite the opposite to be true. Among the respondents tested, the sense of control over work, finances, and marriage increased in the late forties and early fifties and continued rising into old age.6 Control is valued in a networked-community age. More than 80 percent of midlifers in our study say they are very or somewhat comfortable sharing information about themselves if they have control over who sees it.

Technology has a role to play in offering respondents more control in a virtual world, especially as one has more to protect in his later years. Perhaps this helps explain why services that most move the needle among this cohort are those that allow the respondent to “trust but verify” (popular advice espoused by none other than Ronald Reagan) that those lurking online are who they say they are. Rather than seeking a new cop on the beat to protect them, these older respondents are wary. Only three percent believe that the government can be effective in policing the Internet; more than 75 percent believe that security online is a matter of personal responsibility.

We started the chapter with some well-known folks who left their indelible mark in history as they peaked in midlife. Consider the lives of the ordinary who attained their own extraordinary feats during a dreaded life stage assumed to derail the masses. Verta Tucker, a former bus driver driven by a passion to inspire youth, enrolled in college after 40 years of being out of school. She ultimately graduated with a teaching degree and renewed aspirations to pursue a Master’s degree in her chosen field.7

There’s also Frank Chandler, former investment manager who suddenly found himself unemployed in his forties. But, rather than retreat, Chandler chose rebirth. An event that would send many into a tailspin allowed him to pursue one of his lifelong passions in forming and organizing a music festival. His inspirational story was fodder for local press, who asked him his age at the time of executing his dream. He coyly replied, “Forty-eight, a perfect age for a middle-age crisis.”8 Some crisis.

Evidence suggests that midlife is more often a time of rebirth, not crisis. It’s more often accompanied by confidence, not insecurity. It’s more often associated with deeper relationships, not loneliness. And it is marked by an assurance of finally knowing who one is and not apologizing for it (perhaps explaining one of the largest differences between what older and younger respondents value in a service, with the latter paying a premium for those designed to protect image and the former gravitating toward services designed to protect self). Although the virtual world is new to all of us, it is embraced by older individuals through a different lens of identity—one characterized by a true sense of who one is. Consider the exchange between Denise and our researcher:

Researcher: Do you feel you have a pretty consistent personality across all relationships and aspects of life?

Denise: Now I am. I don’t feel like I was like that when I was younger because who had time? I don’t want to say you were phony but you were just like, “Hi, Bye, Nice to see you,” get the kids and go. You didn’t have that time to have a deeper relationship or that deeper feeling about each other.… Those types of [shallow] relationships are not in my life anymore. I want more value.

More value is possible in a world without boundaries. We don’t yet know who the next Julia Child, Nelson Mandela, or Grandma Moses will be in their respective fields. But, for those in the precious midlife years, there is hope in knowing that one doesn’t simply retreat because of a chronological number. That’s not to suggest that one does not meet different crises, such as career or personal transitions, that must be overcome. As Erikson discovered, there are multiple life stages at which unique trials must be addressed, and midlife is no different. But, despite its standing as one of the most popular life-stage crises, the midlife period represents so much more than the one-dimensional view of failure and strife that remains the tasty ingredient for pop culture fodder. Indeed, this period of life also presents the opportunity to fully transform into the self that has been in the making since birth.