And Why Aren't We Using It?

Have you heard the expression “thanatological age”? It refers to the average number of years you are expected, actuarially, to live. While insurance people are familiar with the term (although I can never pronounce it) the public at large is not. If you subtract your chronological age from your average life expectancy, what you have is your thanatological age. And 50% of us will live longer than this age.

That’s how averages work. 

It’s dangerous to generalize about anyone except myself. So, I’m going to use myself as an example. As a healthy Caucasian woman of almost 65, I am expected to live (on average) to age 89, or 24 more years. I kid you not. People assume the average life expectancy is late 70s or early 80s. But the older you get, the older you are likely to get. Couple this with the longevity that runs in my family (Hurricane Jackie is now 96+ and going strong, and Grandma Margie stuck around to 96, too), and my real thanatological age could be 30 years or more.

Now think back to what you accomplished in the decade from 20 to 30, or 30 to 40. Or, better yet, think of what you accomplished in two decades between the ages of 22 and 42. Or in the 30 years between 22 and 52. If you’re like me, the answer is a lot. Twenty or 30 years is a long time. A career. Two or more doublings of a portfolio. The life of a child. Six economic boom/bust cycles.

In my case, those 20 to 30 years also encompassed leaps in technology, from the minicomputer to the PC to the handheld device. I started my career with a patch-panel cable connection from a dumb terminal to a DEC VAX (inside baseball, friends), and I ended those two decades with a cell phone, iPod and laptop. Add 10 more years, and it’s all been consolidated into one WIFI and Bluetooth-enabled smartphone.

Along the way, I’ve gained a lot of business knowledge, people knowledge, and “things” knowledge. I’ve learned what time is wasted and what time is valuable. I’ve also been super-healthy, kinda healthy, and in need of dropping 20 pounds at various times. Sadly, that part is cyclical. I confess I’ve failed to pay attention to my health as well as I should have when I was focused on other goals. But then I’d bootstrap myself and remember that #longevityplanning is key.

Why do I tell you this?

Because if we think we’re washed up at 50 or 60, or if we think we no longer need to mind our health, our skills or our savings, our deterioration becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy.

That self-fulfilling prophecy will ruin our second-half plans, first slowly, then all at once, to paraphrase Hemingway. For example, the average medical spend of someone managing Type 2 diabetes is $17,000 per year. That’s a pricey cruise vacation, capsized and spinning down the drain. If you refuse to learn how to bank on your phone, how will you interact with your financial institution in your 80s? If you put your head in the sand with respect to planning for your own care in later life, how will you keep your promise not to be a financial burden to your children?

In reality, only the last 5 to 10 years of our lives–our 90s–need be considered “old age.” That leaves two decades for us to invest in ourselves. That’s plenty of time to do new things.  The fallacy is believing that what’s done is done and can’t be undone. #WeRescueOurselves

Women come to me at age 50(ish) and say, “I’m a hot mess. I haven’t saved enough for retirement. I’ll be poor.” Nope. You have three doublings of the market (at least) left in your life, so start saving.

Women come to me at age 50(ish) and say, “I’m overweight and diabetic. I’m going to go the route of my mother and grandmother.” Nope. Glucose metabolism can be improved, not just managed. Find a new doctor, one who is willing to work with you on diabetes reversal and getting off medication. Make yourself a project.

Women come to me and say, “I’m a dinosaur. I have no idea how anything works.” Nope. Have faith that newer technology will meet you where you are. But if you want motivation, think of the skills you will need to communicate with your grandchildren.  Better yet, ask them to teach you.  Be patient with yourself. You are worthy of grace.

Last, and this is not something that women tell me; it’s something I observe. Women don’t move enough. You don’t have to love exercise. But you have to stop taking shortcuts and move your body.  Stretch. Take the stairs. Park the car far away. Carry the grocery bags. Get down on the floor and stand up multiple times a day.  Don’t optimize your trips up and downstairs by staging items. Use it or lose it, as they say. 

Don’t do squats so you can be a bad-ass grandma on Instagram, although that’s as good a vanity project as any. Do them so you can toilet unassisted in 30 years.

Don’t lift weights so you can combat batwings and achieve “peak sleevelessness” at your daughter’s wedding, although that’s a perfectly reasonable goal and you will look fabulous. Do it so you can carry your own dog food bag to the car.

Don’t practice balance and mobility so you can run away and join the circus in your 80s. Do it so you don’t take a fall and break a hip … or a wrist … or hit your head.  

It is a sad truth that, while the old appreciate the feeling of once being young, there’s no way for the young to appreciate the physiological changes of becoming old. Aging is the one thing that none of us, no matter how rich, can change. I hope you will join me in aging disgracefully by investing in your health, in your skills, and in your financial plan. And by adopting a young attitude towards yourself. It’s #Onlytoolateifyoudontstartnow.

Thanatologically, you have another lifetime ahead of you. And now you are wise and experienced enough not to waste it. #MoreRunwayThanYouThink  #NotYoungNotDone

Source: American Academy of Actuaries https://www.longevityillustrator.org/

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Copyright © Madrina Molly, LLC 2024. All rights reserved.

The information contained herein and shared by Madrina Molly™ constitutes financial education and not investment or financial advice

Sherry Finkel Murphy, CFP®, RICP®, ChFC®, is the Founder and CEO of Madrina Molly, LLC.

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