Retirement: how to better deal with the period – 02/04/2023 – Balance

I always planned my next stage of life by looking at men a few years older than me and trying not to become like them. (Women tend to respond differently to life, so I find them less useful as negative role models.) In my 20s, I heard men in their 30s talk about mortgages and the difficulty of finding good builders in London. In my 30s, I watched male mediocrities conclude they were gods because so-and-so retired and they were given a position of power — or at least a newspaper column.

Now I see disgruntled former senior employees in their 60s and 70s complaining about a world that no longer needs them. This phenomenon dates back to King Lear, but it is quickly reaching crisis point given the ever-increasing number of retirees, supplemented by the millions who have found retirement during the pandemic. As I move into this stage of life, I’m making plans to better deal with it.

Many retired men today have derived their identity from their professional position. Once they lose that, they have nothing left but to become a danger to their environment.

A few years ago, at a friend’s retirement party, I congratulated his wife on her great achievement: her husband was well liked at work, I said. She was unimpressed: “As long as he doesn’t think he can start staying home and wasting my time.” But that’s exactly what retired men tend to do.

After decades of treating their family as secondary to their career, they find themselves in an environment that has learned to live peacefully without them. Hence the problem of retired husband syndrome, which was first identified among Japanese women, some of whom refer to their husbands as “nure-ochiba” (wet fallen leaf).

Management thinker Manfred Kets de Vries, in his seminal 2003 essay on “The Retirement Syndrome,” shows why “leaders” (as well as many who aren’t exactly leaders) have trouble “letting go.” These people invested their lives in work, neglecting relationships and leisure.

“The prospect of descending from the top of the hill and becoming a nobody is unattractive to them,” writes Kets de Vries. Stepping down can be particularly difficult for the current generation of former male leaders, because they enjoyed that right: a guaranteed pension, a company car and, for some, even the right to tease.

Suddenly, no one fears them anymore. de Vries cites Harry Truman’s complaint about leaving the White House. “Two hours ago I could have said five words and been quoted in every capital city in the world in 15 minutes. Now I could speak for two hours and nobody would give a shit.” Retired men fear that their successors will undo their work, and dread the vengeance of the enemies they made along the way.

All this tends to happen, observes de Vries, at the stage of life when the body enters a humiliating decline, so that the victim suffers two serious narcissistic wounds at the same time. “Regrets take the place of dreams,” he writes, warningly. “Old people can be dangerous; they often care little what happens to the world when they no longer control it.”

Any man heading into retirement needs to get a health check. Try asking yourself: what is the probability that all the changes since your heyday have been for the worse? What are the chances that your old organization will collapse without you? What is the age difference between you and the younger person you are arguing with? If you are citing important people you knew in the 1980s, will the effect be diminished if you have to explain who they were? Are you falling victim to the “good old days” fallacy? Are you becoming an Old Man?

If you’re trying to stay relevant by becoming a mentor, ask yourself: Does your would-be mentee want to be mentored? How old were you when you first heard about the internet, climate change and diversity? At what point in your career did you start prioritizing them? Given that life is different now, how helpful can your advice be?

It’s best to enjoy your power while you still have it. Appreciate that you got lucky instead of complaining about how busy you are. Accept that your successor, who will likely come from a broader talent pool than yours, will likely be better than you. Get over yourself: neither you nor your impending death is a big deal.

Meanwhile, prepare for retirement, which, like the greater death to come, may come one morning when you least expect it. Take pre-retirement classes and, if you can, leave the workplace in stages. Volunteer for charitable actions. Once you’re cast aside, don’t expect your former organization to pay you any attention. Don’t try to become a full-time unpaid backseat driver or online commentator.

You should enjoy retirement because the next – and final – stage of life is likely to be worse.

Simon Kuper is a columnist for the Financial Times