Current discussions around the pension system tend to focus on its sustainability. The pension system is likened to a voracious monster that wolfs down resources and centralises funds, so that the remaining pillars of the welfare state (those that already exist and those that do not, such as housing) are not covered. A greater problem ensues when the discernible asymmetrical relationship within the allocation of public resources becomes personal. This is where we are faced with attitudes that stoke intergenerational conflict due to the battle over finite public resources. Certain sectors seem to imagine that our society's failings, such as child poverty and youth precarity, are the direct result of the greater longevity of older persons. In other words, that a grandson called little Johnnie gets no teatime snack because his grandfather, John, has eaten the portion of cake that life (or whoever organised teatime) allocated him.
Child poverty is one of my research areas, so you will never find me shooting down any measure that combats this problem. Furthermore, I see things very simply. Poor children will become poor older adults, so let us solve the problem at source and stave off suffering. Nor can I forget that poor children are the grandchildren of poor grandparents, so I find it hard to back the aforementioned reasoning that attributes a grandchild's hunger to the excessive greed of his grandfather. Without question, neither the grandfather nor the grandchild ate any cake. They both went hungry.
It is easy to extract two questions from the above approach (namely the cake was eaten by the grandfather, leaving none for the grandchild), and I find them concerning. On the one hand, this view gives rise to intergenerational conflict, which is no more than a way (and an appalling one at that) to lose certain social battles and stray from the matter at hand: the distribution of resources. Is the problem really that one sector of the population — the older one — is hoarding resources for its own use? I am aware that younger people are worse off, but a comparative measurement is just that: a comparison. It does not tell us that those who are better off are doing well. Nor does it assure us that this greater wealth or relative wellbeing is equally distributed among the members of the group. However, it is best that we address that issue on a separate occasion, as there is much more to be said, even though I have discussed it here.
It also occurs to me that, in this theoretical fight over cake (which I see as echoing pure Malthusianism), we are forgetting other perspectives. Above all, we are laying aside the discussion of alternatives that could top up — or retain — the coffers sustaining the welfare state. I know this is very daring on my part, and extremely facile, as I am not putting forward alternatives (though I do have ideas that might fill a number of books). Yet I am leading up to the part of the issue that alarms me most: I worry that this focus is akin to Tarō Asō’s vision. Asō held various ministerial leadership posts in Japan between 2012 and 2021, including that of Finance Minister during the governments of Shinzō Abe and Yoshihide Suga. He was also Japan’s Prime Minister between 2008 and 2009. Tarō Asō, a man who was so well-versed in finance, stated very calmly in 2013 that “what old people need to do is hurry up and die”. He also showed himself to be against any form of palliative care.
Tarō Asō was concerned about the cost of ageing for the system. If I am not mistaken, Mr Asō is now 81, but I presume his remark falls into the category of “do as I say not as I do”. As one of my lecturers used to say, “everyone thinks there are too many older people, but no one wants to lose their own grandpa.” Humankind´s ability to divest itself of humanity never ceases to amaze.
In short, the vision of “fighting over cake” fuels hate (in modern parlance) and ageism, forgetting that the grandparent who ate the cake may not have been John but actually little Stephen's grandfather, Stephen Snr. Significantly, little Stephen ate cake too. We also have to ask ourselves why the two Stephens eat cake, and the two Johns do not. This is also hugely unjust.
Furthermore, it is very easy to say, “little boy, you have no cake because your grandfather ate yours as he is a hoarding greedy-guts” without stopping to ask how many more family members were at the birthday party and whether one or other actually took a doggie bag home. Nor are we asking ourselves whether Stephen and little Stephen had seconds, purely because they were nearer the cake or because they were considered to have merited more at the time of eating it. Speaking of meritocracy, this recently published report offers a good starting point for reflecting on this issue.
However, to return to the inefficient distribution of cake, I am very disturbed by the (false) idea that all retirees’ circumstances are wonderful, and all their needs are met. In other words, that they eat cake every day.
It suggests that there is some kind of magic threshold into ageing and that when you cross it, your needs will be adequately met and all the hardships you have suffered throughout your life will disappear. Yes, ailments will come your way, but suddenly you have a sackful of money in the bank, own your own home (yes, an 89% majority do — the figure is lower for women), receive a substantial pension and your needs are few. Thus, all your financial troubles have been resolved. Are there older people who fulfil these criteria? Yes, of course, but it is because they already fulfilled them before they reached 65. No, older age is not a magic threshold (sited at whatever age we wish) that carries us into a world of security, tranquillity and homogeneity. As regards housing, it is true that most older people own their own homes (some have outstanding payments, so their money actually belongs to the bank). Yet not all do. 7.5% pay rent and 3.4% live in homes temporarily provided for them by someone else, or by an institution.
Some of these ideas go hand in hand with the notion that we live in a gerontocracy in which power, whether political, social or economic, belongs to the older generation. It occurs to me that, if this were true, we would all want to grow older as soon as possible. Yet we know this is not the case. This is the point at which we remember that the older people who have power (and of course there are some) are those who wielded that power before they stepped into older shoes. Growing older is not a magical formula for avoiding deprivation, nor for acquiring more power. It is true that the logic of personal accumulation theoretically puts us in a better position in our older years when compared to our younger selves. Ideally, we will be able to improve our circumstances as we age, although I wrote a book that demonstrated that this is either not always true (not everyone has the ability to do so during their life course), or it is impossible to improve them sufficiently to cover the needs of a dignified older age.
When we suggest that a nation's youth find themselves in a worse position than those who are older, we must not assume this to signify that all older people’s needs are being met. Does it mean that we should forget younger people and focus on older vulnerable adults? No. It means that we must pay attention to vulnerability, without creating a dichotomy in which covering the needs of one age group results in not attending to the needs of another. “There is not enough cake to go round.” So then, we need to look at how we have organised teatime. We also need to rethink the welfare state. Furthermore, as a country we need to be more creative when arranging cake-eating, so as to really satisfy the needs of all who partake. Otherwise, we are getting it wrong.