The cascade of events that led to President Biden’s withdrawal from the presidential contest raises the question of how a vibrant, involved individual confronts the aging process. In “A Passage to India,” E.M. Foster observed that old age consists of “the combination of increased wisdom and decaying powers.” The trick is to figure out how to use that greater wisdom despite one’s waning abilities. Guidance is found in a 2,000-year-old treatise written in 44 BCE by the great Roman lawyer and statesman Marcus Tullius Cicero when he was 62 years old.
In “On Old Age” (De Senectute in its original Latin), Cicero analyzes aging through a Roman Stoic lens. He uses the historical figure Cato the Elder as a guide to living wisely in one’s later years. The book is a fictional dialogue between Cato and two younger friends, Scipio and Laelius (also historical figures from Cato’s era). From the dialectic, Cicero offers suggestions on how to maximize physical and mental well-being despite waning powers. Cicero’s wisdom transcends millennia and informs modern America.
In this short book, Cicero observes that a successful elder experience starts in one’s youth. It’s the good habits we cultivate in our youth and beyond that prime the fields for the harvests of old age. “A wanton and wasteful youth yields to old age a worn-out body.” According to Cicero, old age doesn’t have to be miserable if people have a positive attitude and reframe the impediments of aging as challenges. He observes seniors complain about getting older for four main reasons. First, it takes them away from an active life; second, the body withers and weakens; third, age denies sensual pleasures; and fourth, death is not far off. But if considered properly, these apparent handicaps are either illusory or can be looked at positively.
Cicero disagrees with the first argument that aging takes people from an active life. As Cato bluntly observes, “People who say there are no useful activities for old age don’t know what they’re talking about.” He uses the analogy of a ship captain. While an elder may no longer run the gangways or climb the masts, his contribution of quietly holding the rudder provides greater value to the success of the journey. Cicero recounts the contributions of ancient statesmen and leaders and their influence over policy by their “wisdom, reason, and judgment.” It is this wisdom that guides the ship of state rather than youthful swordplay (this argument is ironic considering the American political landscape of 2024).
As a context, Cicero wrote this book during his political exile due to the emergence of his political foe, Julius Caesar. At least one commentator has suggested Cicero wrote this book to prove he was still a potential player in the affairs of the state.
As to the next concern, Cicero acknowledges the loss of physical vigor but reframes it as a potential opportunity. For instance, as it relates to oratory, a loss of physical strength will weaken one’s voice. But as Cicero observes, that’s of no consequence to an elderly orator: “The appropriate speaking style of later years is peaceful and restrained, and often the calm and elegant voice of an older person lends itself to being more readily heard.” Instead of the chest-pounding advocacy of youth, maturity demands a more reserved and thoughtful presentation. And frankly, as a longtime student of trial advocacy, restraint is usually more effective than bombast.
Cicero observes that despite advancing age, one still has enough zest to teach. “We must agree that old people at least have the strength to teach the young and prepare them for the many duties of life. What responsibility could be more honorable than this?” Teaching affords a senior the ability to share his or her wisdom with another generation. But the benefits are reciprocal. Interacting with youthful energy invigorates the teacher and provides purpose. At least in the context of the legal profession, coaching younger lawyers serves both the profession and the well-being of the teacher.
In recapping this argument, Cicero advocates embracing one’s stage of life and argues for stoic acceptance: “Nature has but a single path and you travel it only once. Each stage has its own appropriate qualities—weakness in childhood, boldness in youth, seriousness in middle age, and maturity in old age. These are the fruits that must be harvested in due season.” But that being said, Cicero insists that as we age, the failings must be railed against. This notion is reminiscent of Dylan Thomas’s love poem to his father, “Do Not Go Gently into that Good Night.”
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Seemingly incongruous, simultaneous acceptance and defiance of one’s limitations actually work together to bring a sense of peace and purpose. A major theme running throughout the book is accepting one’s limitations without giving in to them.
Cicero provides suggestions on how to compensate for the drawbacks of withering vitality: “We can do this by following a plan of healthy living, exercising in moderation, and eating and drinking just enough to restore our bodies without overburdening them.” The physical care should be complemented by mental exercise, which instead of depleting one’s vigor enhances it. Modern neuroscience and gerontology validate these ancient observations.
What we consider common traits of old age are not inevitable, according to Cicero. Drowsiness, sluggishness, and inertia are traits common to all—young and old alike. “So too the senile silliness we call dotage is characteristic not of all old people but only those who are weak in spirit and will.” It’s the force of one’s mind that overcomes the loss of physical vitality. Like any other skill, maintaining one’s mental vibrancy requires practice. For me, the study of great (and challenging) books serves that purpose. Again, from Cicero’s pen, “For a man who has been engaged in studies and activities his whole life does not notice old age creeping up on him. Instead, he gradually and effortlessly slips into his final years, not overcome suddenly but extinguished over a long period.”
The third common complaint about old age is the loss of the pleasures of the flesh. But as Cicero observes, this is actually a gift. Freedom from physical compulsion is liberating. “Where lust rules, there is no place for self-control. And in the kingdom of self-indulgence, there is no room for decent behavior.” So, according to Cicero, you should be grateful your hormones are finally subdued. The theme of conquering one’s passions is common to Roman Stoic thinkers.
While your love life need not inevitably fade away in the golden years, for most, passion no longer dominates as it did in youth. This, according to Cicero, is a good thing. “How wonderful it is for the soul when—after so many struggles with lust, ambition, strife, quarreling, and other passions—these battles are at last ended and it can return, as they say to live within itself.”
The final objection to old age is that the shadow of death is hovering. But again, Cicero challenges this assumption. While acknowledging that death is nearer for an old person, it is not to be dreaded. As Cicero, the lawyer, constructs the argument: either the soul dies with you or lives forever in a better place. Either way, this is nothing to be feared. As he observes, post-death, one will either be perpetually happy or unhappy. What is to worry about?
Again, according to Cicero, acceptance is the key. Death is a part of life. Why get twisted about something that’s inevitable? Be grateful for your life, with every day being a gift, “Hours and days, months, and years flow by, but the past returns no more and the future we cannot know. We should be content with whatever time we are given to live.” Despite the fear of the future, you must remain in the present, accept your place in life, and, like the seasons of nature, embrace life’s transience. As Cicero poetically observes, “Spring is like youth with the promise of fruits to come. Our later years are the seasons of harvesting and storing away.”
Cicero contrasts youthful death with death in old age. “A young person dying reminds me of a fire extinguished by a deluge. But when an old person dies, it is like a flame that diminishes and flickers of its own accord with no force applied after its fuel has been used up.” These images remind us that life is brief, death is unknowable, and all we can do is live our lives the best we can.
Great wisdom is found in Roman Stoic thought, which teaches one to live with acceptance and fortitude, among other virtues. As applied to aging and managing one’s inevitable decline, this wisdom helps to gracefully handle it. A modern Stoic, Ryan Holiday sums up in his writings the philosophy as it relates to aging:
“In your early days, you were all energy and no skill. Now, as the days pass, this ratio is slowly flipping. Eventually, your main assets will be your wisdom, your technique, your experience, your purpose. You won’t be able to run through walls the same way, you won’t have the wind of youth at your back, but you’ll have other, better strengths.”
Regrettably, people believe that the diminished powers of older people must inevitably lead to the rocking chair. Cicero and the other Stoics disagree. Play to your strengths, stay engaged, and fight until the end. As Cicero reminds us, “... old age is respected only if it defends itself, maintains its rights, submits to no one, and rules over its domain until its last breath.”
Do not go gently into that good night.
Author note: I relied on the text “How to Grow Old: Ancient Wisdom for the Second Half of Life by Marcus Tullius Cicero, Translated and with an introduction by Phillip Freeman (Princeton University Press, 2016).
