"Why Can’t They Just Die Already?"
Why Waiting for Boomers to Disappear Won’t Save Us
“Things will improve once the old guard dies off.” At first, it sounds neat and tidy—a tempting vision of progress delivered by generational turnover. But lurking beneath that phrase is a darker logic: that our future depends not on solidarity or systemic design, but on simply waiting for older adults to disappear.
I used to nod along. It felt pragmatic, almost relieving. If history itself is holding us back, then we just need the clock to run out—right? Over time, though, I’ve come to see how this line of thinking is not just ageist; it’s a surrender. It concedes that some lives stand in the way of the future, and that time itself is an eliminator.
Worse, it masks the real source of stagnation: structural exclusion embedded in the systems we inhabit.
Who Gets Blamed When Systems Fail?
Why do so many of us buy into the idea that we’d be “better off once older people are gone”? Because it offers an easy scapegoat. Systems shaped by profit are adept at shifting blame away from themselves. Instead of questioning how health care, insurance, or labor markets quietly push out those deemed “unprofitable,” we point fingers at older adults as though they’re the sole culprits.
Meanwhile, popular discourse frames aging as an inevitable decline. “They’re outdated,” the story goes, “and it’s only natural we leave them behind.” It’s a con that transforms systemic failings into a commonsense story: older adults didn’t keep pace; hence they’re obsolete.
But that narrative ignores how exclusion actually works. In reality, people aren’t left behind because they’re slow; they’re worn down by systems designed to gatekeep care, filter out “unprofitable” users, and prioritize margins over dignity.
See No Unprofitable People and Actuarial Medicine and Hidden Exclusion.
Friction as a Filter: How Systems Quietly Push People Out
Modern capitalism rarely states, “We’re letting you die because you’re too expensive.” Instead, it has perfected a quieter yet insidious tactic: “friction-based eugenics”—endless documentation loops, re-authorization purgatories, or complex portals that older adults (and other vulnerable groups) struggle to navigate. It’s not a blatant no; it’s a thousand small hurdles that drain time, energy, and hope.
For instance, hospitals might boast “optimized bed usage” while systematically risk-scoring older or disabled patients into lower-priority queues. Insurance companies can make certain therapies accessible only after so many appeals that many patients give up. This subtle but relentless stream of paperwork and technical barriers filters people out through exhaustion rather than outright denial. And because aging is framed as “natural decline,” the public rarely questions whether these hurdles are ethically or structurally rigged.
The deeper tragedy is that this design of attrition doesn’t just target older adults. It collides with ableism, classism, and racism. But ageism often has the lightest political resistance—after all, everyone ages, so society tends to treat it as “inevitable.” We rarely protest a force we assume to be part of nature, even when it’s actually manufactured by policy and profit motives.
Cynicism Feels Safe Until It Isn’t
My own journey toward recognizing this quiet violence involved confronting my cynicism. For years, I moved fast and prided myself on being able to outwork or out-think the friction in my path. Cynicism became a shield I could adjust at will. If a system was unfair, I’d keep my head down and find a loophole. But I failed to see that my so-called competence was a form of complicity.
This mindset made it tempting to adopt the casual quip that “all our problems will vanish with the boomer generation.” But underneath that dark joke lay an ethos of survival rather than solidarity: if the system is broken, just last longer than the other guy. That’s not liberation; it’s a death match with prettier branding.
What We Miss When We Mistake Memory for Stagnation
The myth of generational obsolescence obscures a crucial truth: many older people are survivors of past crises, policy betrayals, and corporate “innovations” that failed to deliver on their promises. Their caution, if we listen to it, can be a form of collective wisdom rather than stubborn backwardness.
When we minimize older adults, we risk erasing an accumulated knowledge of how systems can fail—and how they might be fixed. If someone is skeptical of the latest shiny “disruption,” it might be because they’ve seen first-hand how disruptions often favor profitability over ethics. They’re not just nostalgic; they’re discerning.
Moreover, older adults perform enormous amounts of unpaid labor: caregiving for grandchildren, volunteering in communities, preserving cultural practices. These forms of contribution sustain the social fabric more than any GDP or quarterly report can capture.
None of Us Stays “Cheap and Productive” Forever
It’s easy to imagine we’ll personally escape the fate of being labeled “too old” or “too expensive.” Perhaps we think our skill set will keep us relevant, or that we’ll have the resources to buy premium care. But the structural forces behind friction-based eugenics and ageism are expanding, not retreating. If we deem older adults “expendable,” we’re rehearsing our own disposability. Eventually, all of us become vulnerable to the very system we let stand.
That is the real horror of scapegoating older adults: it normalizes an economy that sees humans—especially those past peak “profitability”—as liabilities. It stealthily sets up each of us to be disqualified the moment we slow down or need more support.
Designing Systems That Age With Us, Not Against Us
Rejecting generational obsolescence isn’t about demanding intergenerational harmony. It’s about systematically unlearning the logic of disposability and creating institutions that don’t treat care as a privilege. We need:
Universal Health Infrastructure
Eliminate profit-based gatekeeping. If healthcare or social services are for sale, older and disabled people become prime targets for cost-cutting.Design for Ease, Not Attrition
Streamline bureaucratic processes so nobody—of any age—has to navigate a labyrinth just to stay alive. Outdated forms or digital friction shouldn’t quietly weed out “unprofitable” users.Inclusive Governance
Bring older adults into decision-making, not just as nostalgic advisors. A truly intergenerational team can balance fresh innovation with lived memory, reducing hype cycles and short-sighted policies.A New Ethos of Interdependence
Recognize that every generation is a product of history and systems. When we devalue one stage of life, we devalue the future we’re all heading into.
For a deeper look at friction-based exclusion, see Actuarial Medicine & Hidden Exclusion.
Interdependence Isn’t Sentimental—It’s Structural
The myth that “things get better once older people die off” isn’t just cruel—it’s deeply misguided about power. We’re not stalled because of older adults. We’re stalled by a profit-obsessed culture that treats human beings as disposable once their “usefulness” drops. Aging isn’t the real issue; our acceptance of that disposable logic is.
All of us are aging, right now, into each other’s care. When we hope certain people simply exit the stage, we miss the chance to build a society where wisdom and vulnerability reinforce one another. Instead of waiting for “the old guard” to vanish, we could ask what made them vulnerable in the first place—so none of us ends up written off next.
If you’ve ever felt comfort in the idea that older adults will be gone soon, consider who actually benefits from that mindset. Hint: not you, not your loved ones, not the broader community. Only a system designed to profit from scarcity and competition—until it discards you, too.
this was really eye-opening and well-worded!