The Culture of Rush and the Unhurried Time of Maturity: A Silent Conflict
The modern calendar and clock leave no room for gentle time. Each day, the city seems to shout that everything must be fast, urgent, immediate, efficient. In this frenetic setting, many older adults feel that their pace —more relaxed, more unhurried— no longer fits. Walking a bit more slowly, speaking calmly, taking time at an ATM, or waiting at a traffic light becomes an anomaly. When someone, walking with a cane, is just finishing crossing the street, the cars already have their engines running and growl impatiently; at the ATM, someone with gray hair tries to manage as best they can, and tension fills the air; in the supermarket checkout line, sighs are heard if someone takes a little longer to pack their groceries. Some older people, they say, feel out of sync with their time.
That clash of rhythms is neither accidental nor harmless. The work of German philosopher and sociologist Hartmut Rosa (Resonance: A Sociology of Our Relationship to the World, 2019; The Uncontrollability of the World, 2020) has made it clear that we live in a society pushed to the limits of acceleration, where every sphere —technological, social, vital— moves at an ever-increasing speed, leaving less space for the present and for personal narrative. Rosa even warns of a kind of “totalitarianism of acceleration,” where any slow step becomes suspicious.
Against that logic emerges the idea of a slow-paced life —the slow movement— which does not deny the need for speed but affirms that there are activities —such as caregiving, conversation, learning, thinking— that require a different rhythm. In Praise of Slowness, by Canadian journalist Carl Honoré, is a best seller that reflects on the cult of speed and praises, as the title suggests, the deceleration of social and life rhythms. “There is good slowness,” Honoré says in his famous TED Talk In Praise of Slowness, “which is taking time to eat with your family, with the television off, or time to look at a problem from every angle, in order to make the best decision. Or even just taking time to slow down and savor life.”
The body ages, and with that, its vital tempo changes: it no longer responds to urgency, it needs more time to process, feel, and act. But this is not decline: it is another way of being in the world, deeper and more human. Slowness is not inefficiency —in many cases, it is a form of wisdom, flourishing, and sound judgment. It seems acceleration imposes a tacit rule in our current society: if you move slowly, you become invisible or a hindrance. The latest UDP Senior Barometer from 2021 confirms that one in four older adults feels frustrated when faced with ATMs without in-person assistance or screens designed for young fingers. And beyond the interpretation that sees older adults as maladapted, this has to do with something deeper than technology alone: it’s about the imposition of a time system that allows no respite.
While some need to slow down, others speed up. For some years now, especially among younger generations, the “faster” trend has become evident: listening to podcasts or watching movies at double speed or playing WhatsApp messages as fast as possible. Not a second to waste. This intergenerational disconnect also shows up at home. Many grandchildren no longer sit down to chat —everything is speed, one-minute TikToks, plans, scattered attention. The ideal of family reunions, of lingering at the table after meals and nourishing the soul, has given way to overcrowded agendas and ever-present screens. Family does create bonds, yes, but it often leaves no space for pause.
In this context, for many older people, slowness becomes a burden, not a treasure. And with it, they feel pushed aside, relegated to the background. Let us think, let us reflect. Slowness has value: it allows us to pause our gaze, preserve history, listen to silence. In the kitchen, every dish is crafted with care; in walks, the body reconnects with its surroundings; in conversation, details emerge that noise or rushed speech erase. That way of inhabiting time is a form of action and cultural resistance.
The question is: are we going to continue ignoring that value? There are ways to rebalance our social fabric: cities that extend traffic light times, banks that prioritize patient service, living libraries that host intergenerational discussions, supermarkets with senior-friendly time slots, in-person services that respect the user’s pace… These are small rebellions against a world that only values speed. It’s about recognizing that society becomes richer when it inhabits multiple tempos. This is not a step backward —it is an enrichment.
Older adults may no longer want to run, but they demand not to be invisible. They cannot —and must not— be invisible.
