In early 2023, Yusuke Narita, a Yale University economist, sparked outrage when he provocatively suggested that Japan’s elderly should “commit mass suicide” to make room for younger generations in top societal positions. While he later clarified that his remarks were meant to be metaphorical, the controversy struck a nerve in a world grappling with the consequences of an ageing power structure – gerontocracy.

As more nations face ageing populations, striking the balance between experience and the need for fresh ideas becomes difficult. Across the world, power remains tightly held by older individuals, even as younger generations are asked to contend with rapidly changing social, economic, and technological realities.

It has to be said even if it sounds callous – the result is a future shaped by those who may not live to see its consequences. Nowhere is this more evident than in the political sphere, where debates over gerontocracy take centre stage.

Narita’s frustration over the grip of the old on leadership is not an isolated critique – it is a symptom of a global dilemma. In recent years, concerns over the age of political leadership have intensified, particularly in the lead-up to the 2024 presidential race in the US.

Both Joe Biden and Donald Trump faced intense scrutiny about their advanced ages. Biden, born in 1942, became the oldest person to assume the US presidency in 2020 at the age of 78. By 2023, the discussion about whether he would seek re-election was dominated by questions not of policy but of health, stamina and mental acuity. Ultimately, Biden stepped down from the race, not necessarily because of lack of political support, but because of the overwhelming sense that the presidency had become a burden for him owing to age-related conditions.

Trump, just a few years younger, faced similar criticism. His brash style and confrontational politics often overshadowed discussions about whether a man in his late 70s should be entrusted with leading the world’s most powerful nation for another four years.

Trump’s continued relevance in the top echelons of US politics is a perfect example of conventional wisdom which suggests that politics is no youthful sprint but an extreme endurance game. “Extreme” here obviously does not mean rock climbing but rather facing down relentless media scrutiny, surviving scandals shamelessly, gruelling campaign trails and constantly reasserting dominance.

The US is not alone. In India, Prime Minister Narendra Modi once promoted a party policy to retire senior leaders at the age of 75, marking it as an initiative to keep leadership fresh and invigorate the ranks of the ruling Bhartiya Janata Party. Modi himself, now in his mid-70s, has shown no sign of stepping aside. The policy was merely a convenient tool for consolidating power, side-lining rivals like party veterans LK Advani and Murli Manohar Joshi.

Such examples of ageing leadership are not confined to any one region. In many African and Asian nations, post-colonial leaders who once stood as symbols of change and revolution presided over deeply entrenched power structures, some well into their 80s and 90s. Many ageing leaders of the most powerful nations who have become comfortable in their positions are steadily setting the stage for an indefinite hold on power, while the younger leaders are falling like ninepins, often not even completing their limited terms.

Admittedly, this discussion is not about raising questions about the inherent morality of old individuals but a criticism of the system that breeds a type of political inertia.

Excesses of gerontocratic ‘stability’

Excessively old leaders with a hold over power present their own continuation in power in perpetuity as “stability”.

In the face of climate change, wars and conflict, untenable income inequality and sudden technological disruption, with the elderly in power, the impulse is often to preserve and persevere or even go back to the glorious past, rather than to ensure justice and human rights.

When old leaders cling to power, it sends a message that age – and the wisdom that presumably comes with it – is more valuable than adaptability, innovation, or the ability to engage with the rapidly changing world. This valorisation of the past over the future can be a form of generational arrogance, one that risks stifling the very progress that would secure a better future for all.

Young climate activist Greta Thunberg, who galvanised global youth around the climate movement, was dismissed by Trump as an “angry” young person who needed to “chill”. This exemplified how the older generation, often slow to acknowledge emerging crises, belittles the urgent concerns of the young.

Thunberg’s moral clarity on climate science, later combined with her advocacy for the decolonisation of Palestine, stands in stark contrast to entrenched wisdom in the arena of world politics, revealing a fundamental disconnect between generations on what truly matters for the future.

Women and gerontocracy

In a recent Netflix show, American comedian Hasan Minhaj critiqued not only old male leaders but also old women in leadership roles in the US such as Ruth Bader Ginsburg and Nancy Pelosi.

It might be safe to claim that the world hasn’t seen as many women gerontocrats as men. Many women leaders such as Margaret Thatcher, Indira Gandhi, Benazir Bhutto and recently Sheikh Hasina have been seen as strong and even ruthless leaders. Women leaders in different polities are often seen as pioneering figures who helped break gender barriers, which can complicate calls for their retirement. Women leaders carry symbolic value that sometimes shields them from the type of criticism directed at male leaders who similarly cling to power.

However, as the discourse around Ginsburg and Pelosi demonstrates, the expectations around ageing and leadership are beginning to apply more uniformly across genders, reflecting a broader impatience with entrenched power structures that resist generational change.

The case of older women elites shows how the old can gather disproportionate influence not only due to their wealth, but also with cultural and symbolic capital in the shape of their record of displaying “unquestionable dedication”, “distinguished careers”, being “trailblazers” or “pillars of strength”.

Leveraging these, they dominate decision-making processes, perpetuating policies that are based on compromises and manufactured consensus rather than truly democratic dialogue in which dissent is welcome.

This strong impetus within gerontocracy for distorting democratic processes combined with symbolic capital gives a clue into the success of leaders like Kamala Harris. It shows that women who make it to leadership positions within parties or institutions in gerontocratic systems are those who combine their legacy symbolic capital with a proclivity to compromise. Women leaders who embellish their turbid ideologies with feminist terminology make even better candidates than old men in upholding the gerontocratic order.

A pathway to authoritarianism?

While age alone does not cause authoritarianism, the longer a leader stays in power, the more likely they are to adopt authoritarian methods to maintain their position in parties or government.

As leaders age and become entrenched in their positions, they often consolidate power around themselves to maintain control. Their long stay in offices allows them inordinate power to reshape democratic institutions to further secure their position.

This often involves tinkering with term limits of constitutional offices, flouting the norms of appointments that undermine autonomy of institutions such as the judiciary, other public accountability institutions and even academia. They become more reluctant to groom or empower successors, and politically emasculate or eliminate potential successors seen as a threat to their own authority. As the leader ages, paranoia about losing control can drive more extreme actions, including political repression and even the manipulation of elections to maintain their grip on power.

Extended periods in power also allow leaders to cultivate personality cults, where they are seen as indispensable to the country’s success or survival. This is often reinforced by state propaganda, rewriting history and the promotion of an almost mythical narrative of the leader’s indispensability. In such a situation, democratic ideals are abandoned in favour of unquestioning loyalty to the leader. The glorification of long-serving leaders often leads to authoritarianism, where loyalty to the individual supersedes loyalty to the constitution or democratic principles.

This can lead to authoritarian measures such as the curbing of civil liberties, restrictions on free speech, and the use of state machinery to target political opponents. This is a hallmark of authoritarianism: the dismantling of checks and balances to create an environment where the leader’s rule is unquestioned and unchallenged.

The end game

Old leadership is more likely to be focused on past grudges or, at best, immediate challenges. As they near the end of their lives, politicians might prioritise, against saner advice, long held policy beliefs that are otherwise not desirable because they are parochial, stagnant, myopic and benefit oligarchies.

Gerontocracy is a lose-lose order of governing. It deepens alienation of the young who aspire for a better world, fuelling resentment and weakening civic engagement. This emboldens populist movements that challenge the political establishment. But let us not delude ourselves, gerontocracy is also upheld by masses of youth who are steeped into the gerontocratic culture and believe that their role is to follow the old unquestioningly.

Ghazala Jamil, Centre for the Study of Law and Governance, Jawaharlal Nehru University, New Delhi