The Geriatric Empire: What Biden’s Decline…and my Estrangement…Reveals About Aging in America
The revelations about President Biden’s cognitive decline haven’t surprised most Americans, at least not those paying attention. What has surprised some is the quiet, collective shrug from Washington, D.C., as if entrusting the most powerful office in the world to a man on the cognitive downslope of aging is just politics as usual. But to me, and to many in my generation, this moment is emblematic of something much deeper than politics. It’s about truth…and the generational inability to confront it.
I recently read Original Sin and was struck by a simple line describing the Biden family’s ethos: “Don’t say mean truths.” That hit me like a gut punch. Because that, right there, is the unspoken motto of an entire aging generation.
My own estrangement from my family came after years of watching my parents spiral into denial about their health, their circumstances, and their future. They refused to acknowledge physical decline, dismissed any suggestion of outside help, and wrapped themselves in a cocoon of nostalgia and pride. Conversations were sanitized, realities were minimized, and when I finally began speaking plainly…out of concern, not cruelty…I became the villain. But I’ve come to realize: I’m not alone.
Talk to anyone from Gen X or the Millennial generation, and you’ll likely hear the same story. We’re dealing with aging parents who won’t write wills, won’t move out of dangerous homes, won’t accept medical help, and won’t…under any circumstances…admit that time is catching up to them. Why? Because to acknowledge decline would be to admit failure. Because “saying mean truths” feels worse than letting everything rot under the surface.
This refusal to face reality has consequences. In families, it leads to fractured relationships, neglected care, and emotional burnout. In Washington, it leads to an entrenched gerontocracy…an increasingly disconnected ruling class who won’t step aside, even when it’s clear they should. It’s no coincidence that America’s halls of power have begun to resemble a nursing home more than a nerve center of global leadership.
Here’s what I’ve learned…and what we, as younger generations, must carry forward:
Telling the truth, even when it hurts, is an act of love. Shielding people from uncomfortable realities isn’t kindness. It’s cowardice.
Aging with dignity requires acceptance, not denial. That means preparing for transition, stepping back when needed, and trusting the next generation.
Leadership has a shelf life. Wisdom doesn’t guarantee clarity, and legacy isn’t a license to linger. Power must be passed, not clung to.
If we want to prevent America from becoming a nation stalled by fear and fantasy, we must vote for leaders who are willing to confront hard truths, not avoid them. That means ending the reign of the geriatric party in D.C., not out of ageism, but out of realism.
Because pretending something isn’t true doesn’t make it go away. It just makes the fallout worse.
And if we, the next generation of leaders, don’t learn from this... we’re doomed to become exactly what we resent.
