How markets can focus on the needs of older people

But aging unfolds differently for everyone. We all enter the process at unique starting points and then proceed through a wild variety of physiological experiences at rates that vary from

person to person. The idea that there exists one single state of older being that kicks in at age 50, 65, or at any other single age, defies all logic. So does the idea that there is one

single, normal way to live a later life. If the way we conventionally think about old age is not tied fast to the facts of biology, economics, or sociology, it must contain elements of

fiction. My preferred term for what’s considered the normal way to live up to and through late life, given our limited way of thinking about oldness, is our narrative of aging. It’s a story

that’s been passed down from generation to generation. Our limited narrative of old age has already cost businesses untold losses in terms of failed launches, missed opportunities, and

off-target products. Worse, because products and marketing reinforce social norms, the narrative’s prophecy becomes self-fulfilling. Products that treat older adults merely as a needy,

greedy headache to be taken care of, not an enormous group of people with diverse goals and motivations, remind us every day to be old is to be always a taker, never a giver; always a

problem, never a solution. Even more troublingly, subpar products restrict what we can do with ourselves. When we grow old, we simply don’t have the tools we need to stay competitive in the

workforce, or contribute culturally, or stay connected, or remain independent for as long as possible, because those products either don’t exist yet or are built for younger users. Or —

though intended for older users — they are presented in such a way that many find them embarrassing or alienating to use. Such failures to connect with older consumers, however, are about to

come to an end. Our new, older world is arriving, and the going narrative of aging will soon give way. It couldn’t happen at a better time. Should the current, dysfunctional narrative

remain in place, the approaching demographic swell of older adults would mean that many of the worst assumptions of old age’s doomsayers — the wrinkly-time-bomb-planet crowd — would come

true. Old age would become an anchor dragging down society, just like our narrative of aging predicts. But it won’t come to that, because the approaching older world contains the seeds of

that narrative’s demise. You might have heard of these agents of change, since they’ve run the world for the past 30 years or so. They are known as the baby boomers. THE PEOPLE OUR PARENTS

WARNED US ABOUT The baby boomers, in short, will act as a sorting mechanism in the longevity economy, ruthlessly separating the companies that solve their real demands from those acting on a

tired, false idea of oldness. The ultimate effect will be profound: a new, emergent vision of later life — reflected in and normalized by the myth-making apparatus of the private sector —

which hews closely not to an antiquated vision of old age but how people actually want to live. In some ways slowly, and in some ways with astonishing speed, a new, better story of life in

old age will replace our current narrative of aging. How history will remember the baby boomers remains an open question. Will they be seen as the generation that gave rise to the

environmental movement, for instance, or the one that ended the environment? Will they be the generation that closed the curtain on the Cold War or the one that killed off trust in

institutions? The answer will probably be “all of the above.” What’s more, I believe that the boomers have one additional legacy left in them. Thanks to their ingenuity and economic demand,

the boomers have the potential to open up possibilities for older adults across the economic spectrum, across nations, and even far into the future. Old age, as it stands, is ridiculously

unequal. Although populations in most countries are growing older due to a dearth of births, the gains in extreme longevity I mentioned earlier are enjoyed mainly by wealthy societies and

often high-education and high-income populations within those societies. In the United States, higher-income groups generally live longer, and life expectancies for African Americans and

Native Americans, despite recent increases, trail those of white, Latino, and Asian Americans. Meanwhile, in 2014, life expectancy dropped for white women — a rare and disconcerting

demographic surprise — and between 2014 and 2015, the U.S. population as a whole followed suit, the result of increased midlife mortality among white men, white women, and African American

men. This average decline — unique to the United States and still little more than a blip in a decades-long upward trend — masks a disturbing divergence: Wealthy and highly educated

Americans are reaping the bulk of our continued longevity gains, while poorer, less-educated groups are taking on major longevity losses. A metric called healthy life expectancy — how long

you can expect to live without frailty and disability — tells a similar tale: Wealthier, better-educated people not only live longer but enjoy better health in late life. Of the causes of

death that have climbed in the United States in recent years, most are at least somewhat preventable, including heart disease, stroke, type 2 diabetes, suicide, and drug and alcohol

poisoning. The fact that prevention is not happening — particularly among lower-income, lower-education populations — is both horrifying and mystifying. All told, we are staring at a

possible future in which the gift of extra years of life is diverted straight to the wealthiest people in the world, while those less fortunate get sick and die earlier — sometimes far

earlier. Historically, wealth has always made it easier to live longer, and yet the fact that things are somehow getting worse, not better, for certain low-income populations is beyond

dismaying.  There are many things that can and must be done to reverse this course. Changing the fundamental rules of old age is among the most important. By building a vision of late life

that is more than just a miserable version of middle age, companies won’t just be minting money, helping older people and their caregivers, and making aging societies more viable. They’ll

also be creating a cultural environment that values the contributions of older adults, which may make it easier for those who need employment to find it. They’ll be building better tech

products that, as they inevitably become commoditized, stand to improve life across the incomes scale. Most important of all, they’ll be giving young and middle-aged people a reason to hope

for their future — no insignificant step, given the outsize toll that preventable and self-destructive behaviors are taking on public health. Change starts today, with companies finding the

vision needed to invest in the burgeoning older market. It starts with businesses recognizing older consumers, listening closely to their demands, and building them better tools with which

to interact with the world around them. It starts with bold leaders willing to erect a new narrative of possibility in old age. It starts, in a word, here. _From the book '_The

Longevity Economy',_ by Joseph F. Coughlin. Copyright © 2017 by Joseph F. Coughlin. Reprinted by permission of PublicAffairs, an imprint of Perseus Books, LLC, a subsidiary of Hachette

Book Group Inc., New York, NY. All rights reserved._