On July 26, 2023, 81-year-old Senate Minority Leader Mitch McConnell, R-Ky., suddenly stopped speaking, seemingly disoriented, during a news conference. From mid-February to early May in 2023, 89-year-old Senator Dianne Feinstein, D-Calif., was away from the Capitol due to shingles-related health issues. Despite representing hundreds of thousands of constituents, the state of her health was sometimes kept unclear, from her denial about having encephalitis to the lack of details given regarding her cause of death while in office. Incidents such as these have driven many Americans to support an upper age limit for politicians.
Evidently, the eventual effects of age on cognition and health warrant a much-needed age limit on holding office. Yet, Congress has still not implemented a resolution due to debates over differing solutions and concerns about limiting candidates and government officials to only those fit to serve.
The Problem
Health and mental abilities can deteriorate significantly over time for those who are 65 or older, especially as one approaches 80 years of age. It is true that a small percentage of the elderly do not seem to experience the cognitive decline common for individuals their age. Still, a physician interviewed by the New York Times estimated the population of these “super-agers” to be far less than 10 percent of those who are 80 years or older. In other words, most individuals well past their 70s experience normal cognitive decline, including difficulties with recall, multitasking, and attention: three factors essential for executing a dynamic, complex job like holding public office.
Moreover, once a candidate struggles with recollection and decision-making, they may never realize their decline. Even if they recognize their health issues, they may discount the effects it could have on their performance and run once more or, if already in office, continue their term. Thanks to incumbents’ existing platforms, established support, and widespread recognition, they are likely to remain the frontrunners even if running past their primes. In the end, most incumbents, with their advantages — and often without same-party challengers — win reelection, reducing the people’s power to make an informed and authentic decision. Voters’ voices are further diminished when candidates hide the true nature of their ailments, leaving voters unable to use the candidate’s health as a criterion when casting their ballot.
So, to counter the incumbent advantage and ensure that only those fit for office can run, should the solution be to publicize candidates’ health records? Or should we make it mandatory that candidates cannot have health problems that interfere with their elected term? Instead, having an upper age limit would be the best option for privacy, equality, and health.
Evaluating the Alternatives
Perhaps old age is not enough to assume a candidate is unfit for office. After all, many voters who say they are troubled by the age of the candidates are only concerned because of the health decline commonly associated with older age. In other words, it’s not age many are inherently worried about: it’s health.
Nevertheless, creating certain health requirements instead of an upper age limit is not an ideal solution, since using standards for mental and physical fitness may venture into discrimination and ableism depending on what criteria are used to determine whether a candidate is fit or unfit for office. For example, if an overly restrictive limit on health is placed, those with mental illnesses or disabilities whose ability to serve is not significantly affected may be blocked from running.
This leads to the second reason: the health needed to successfully lead a country is, ultimately, subjective. John F. Kennedy, one of the most popular presidents in U.S. history, struggled with many health issues that forced him to take a variety of drugs and medications to continue serving the country. Few would argue that this should have disqualified him from office. This case exemplifies the challenges that would emerge with creating an accurate profile of candidates’ health and identifying those who do not fit the criteria.
A less aggressive alternative to implementing health requirements is requiring candidates to release their health records upon declaring candidacy. It is already a longstanding tradition that presidents release records of their medical appointments; formalizing this process for all candidates would allow the voters themselves to decide which health issues should be disqualifying.
However, forcing health record publicity could be more than ineffective. Requiring full health transparency could discourage potential candidates from running for election. Releasing all of a candidate’s health information would create opportunities for discrimination as well, such as voting based purely on a candidate’s health information that otherwise could have remained private. For example, former president Franklin D. Roosevelt battled polio, leaving him confined to a wheelchair. He struggled in making his decision to return to politics; if his worry that he would be looked down upon by the public had been stronger, he likely would not have returned to politics. Additionally, if FDR was not able to hide the full extent of his disability, Americans may not have trusted him to be fit to serve. Nevertheless, Roosevelt did return to politics and found success, leading the nation through a time of great struggle and uncertainty. FDRs case makes clear how a well-intended transparency requirement could instead merely block perfectly suitable candidates from declaring for, and obtaining office.
The proposed publication of health records may also not be enough to stop candidates who are not physically fit for office from running. Using transparency requirements to ensure that candidates are fit for office hinges on the assumption that candidates will not try to find loopholes or lie to avoid releasing relevant health information. Such a reform also rests on the assumption that voters will be paying attention to or researching the released information, which they may not be. Thus, making health records public would not be the most effective solution.
The ideal policy to prevent physically and cognitively unfit candidates from obtaining office is implementing an upper age limit. An age limit creates a clear requirement for every candidate, eliminating the possibility of discrimination among health issues or ableism, whether by the system or voters. Furthermore, an upper age limit is easy to implement and reliable; there are no ways to skirt an age restriction, as one could a health restriction.
Most importantly, we should implement an upper age limit because voters want it. A 2023 Pew Research survey found that 79% of Americans favor maximum age limits for federal elected officials. This is likely because people want to be led by strong, healthy, and capable individuals who not only finish their terms, but can execute their duties, represent their constituents to the fullest extent possible, and uphold the values of the Constitution. This means that candidates must be able to progress quickly with the world and adapt to any situation they face throughout their time serving the United States, which is done using fluid intelligence, one’s ability to reason and problem-solve.
We also know that this is an effective solution because we already have several age limits in place throughout our government. Presidents must be above age 35, senators age 30, and representatives age 25. Our best bet is to create another one: an upper age limit backed by science, examples, and the people’s approval.
Addressing Concerns
No solution is perfect; an age limit is no exception.
Crystallized intelligence, composed of experience and knowledge built up over time, is a significant and necessary asset that some say government leaders must have. The older someone is, the more crystallized intelligence they will have. Limiting a candidate’s age could mean losing candidates with years of experience and wisdom.
However, fluid intelligence, the ability to reason logically and abstractly, is arguably as critical as crystallized intelligence. Despite this, the balance between fluid intelligence, which steadily deteriorates as one ages, and crystallized intelligence tilts too far towards the latter by choosing overwhelmingly older politicians. Adding an age limit would make a push toward candidates with more robust abilities to reason flexibly.
It is possible that an age limit may exacerbate the issue of different generations displaying bias and tension against those older or younger than themselves. An upper age limit perhaps could contribute to ageism specifically against older populations. Furthermore, possibly the most common concern about an upper age limit is that it uses age as an indicator of health or cognition, which does not always hold true.
On the other hand, creating an upper age limit for those past their 70s would acknowledge that cognitive decline is normal even if it doesn’t occur at the same pace for everyone. An upper age limit is not rooted in ignorance, hate, or ageism, though nearly anything can be twisted to fuel prejudice. It is not a requirement that assumes that everyone over 80 is too old for office — few would argue that there aren’t some talented 24 year olds capable of serving in the House. Rather, it is a safeguard built to prevent individuals who may be unfit for office from taking advantage of the lack of limits, with the cost of the few candidates whose health defies time.
Conclusion
Americans’ sole concern at the ballot box should be whether or not a candidate represents their values and ideals. The public should not be forced to reckon with whether candidates are physically capable of completing their terms.
Encouraging voters to look past the big-name incumbents is not enough; ending American gerontocracy requires systemic change. An upper age limit is the correct solution to restore voters’ confidence in the fitness of their elected officials.
