Monday, October 23, 2017
Sunday, October 15, 2017
Are Hormetins the new Fountain of Youth in Aging?
Although aging is inevitable—most likely due to the accumulation
of damage at the cellular level, rather than from any one specific program—the
actual rate of aging can be an adaptive feature in nature. So although we will
all die, there is a certain amount of plasticity in how fast we age and
therefore how early or late we die. This plasticity is likely to be controlled
by relatively simple mechanisms. Aging research focusing on this plasticity has
shown some encouraging results.
Hormetins—sometimes referred to as adaptogens—are a mild
stress-induced action that has long-term and broad beneficial effects.
Following the dictum that what does not kill you make you stronger, hormetins
kick start the body to respond to the mild stress and this response has broader
and longer-lasting benefits. Benefits that translate to living longer.
Mild Stress can be induced through four main methods. The
easiest and most common is physical activity like exercise, heat, gravity and
irradiation. There are emerging interest in psychological methods like
meditation, brain exercises, juggling and balancing. However, out of all these
methods, hormetins—a unit of a hormesis—are best defined by a supplement. Pop a
pill and let your body do the work.
Nutritional stress includes caloric restriction, and
anti-oxidants, polyphenols—found more commonly in as fruit and vegetables, tea,
red wine, coffee, chocolate, olives, and extra virgin olive oil—flavonoids—plants
especially parsley, onions, berries, tea, bananas, all citrus fruits, red wine,
and dark chocolate—and lastly micronutrients—that include some vitamins and
trace amounts of iron, cobalt, chromium,
copper, iodine, manganese, selenium, zinc and molybdenum..
The trick is to ensure
that the trauma is mild enough not to be counterproductive. With nutrients this is easier to achieve
since most of these nutritional supplements are water-soluble and therefore in
cases of ineffectiveness you are at worst producing expensive urine.
The problem with nutrients is that everyone is trying to
make a buck. Not just snake-oil salesman but also academicians and researchers
getting into the “business” of selling immortality and anti-aging pills. In
table 2 are a number of nutrients on the far right and far left, that are
promoted as beneficial to living longer. On the far right, from Rhodioia down to Glucosamine, these are said to
contribute to the mechanism to their left (shaded smaller cirlces), from Stress
Resilience to Tumor Suppression.
We can see that although there are many potential mechanisms,
in this review there are nine mechanisms they all contribute to the two main
and connected mechanisms through their anti-oxidant benefits and by mimicking
caloric restriction (large shaded circles to the left).
Hormesis represents a gyroscope in maintaining a balance
between an individual and the environment. Even if a slight elevation of a
certain toxic chemical, event or condition in the environment occurs, the body
chemistry changes to prepare for it. But this balancing act is not without
limitation. The capacity for the body to make biological/chemical adjustments
is limited, but there is plasticity in this system of person–environment
interaction. Nadine Saul with the Humboldt-University of Berlin and his
colleagues have argued that the process of hormesis is a balance that has both positive and
negative outcomes. It emerged that for every longevity improvement, there is a
reduction in the capacity of the organism for growth, mobility, stress
resistance, or reproduction. Saul argues (correctly it seems) that longevity
comes at a price, and although hormesis seems to promote longevity, other
hormetic costs may ensue, some of which are unknown and unpredictable.
The mechanism of hormesis remains an enigma, although we continue to learn
more about how the body develops resilience in response to changes in the
environment. In 1962, Italian geneticist Ferruccio Ritossa discovered that heat
shock proteins are produced when cells are exposed to a variety of stresses.
Initially identified with fruit flies that were exposed to a burst of heat resulting
in the production of new proteins that help cells survive. The epigenes responsible for this are called “vitagenes” and maintain balance within cells
under stressful conditions. As with the heat shock proteins, these act as
chaperones, as minders, in assisting the establishment of “proper protein
behavior.” Despite these terms, we do not know how this function is carried
out.
Similarly, we now acknowledge that caloric restriction
itself might be effective because of its hermetic qualities—a shock to the
body—rather than through diet. This might be the case since there are multiple ways of producing the same effect
without adhering to a diet of calorie reduction. The underlying mechanism—rather
than the reduction of calories—becomes important. And the underlying mechanism
is a shock. If we accept this mechanism, then we should ask “why?” Why does a shock cause the body to build
resilience?
The answer is both simple and radical. A shock causes the
body to build resilience because the body is designed to do exactly that. Our
body interacts with the environment in order to survive. And to accomplish this
adaptation there must be plasticity, some wiggle room, in our capacity. And our
biology is a constellation of different entities that depend on each other. How
it does this adaptation is more enigmatic, but we now know that there are
plasmids and bacteria that help address the needs of our body. These might even
recombine with our own DNA to make
these adaptations more permanent.
Just as Thales of Miletus (624-546 BCE) the ancient Greek
philosopher created science by arguing that we should stop referring to natural
phenomena as the “will of god,” in our world we should move away from looking
at end of life diseases as “caused by aging” and become more appreciative of
the balance we maintain with our natural world. By discarding the new mythology
of aging—immortality gurus—we can then focus on plasticity in older age. The
fountain of youth might be a fountain for living-well in older ages.
References
Garrett, M. (2017). Immortality: With a Lifetime
Guarantee. Createspace. USA.
Lenart, P., & Bienertová-Vašků, J. (2017).
Keeping up with the Red Queen: the pace of aging as an adaptation. Biogerontology, 18(4),
693-709.
Rattan, S. I. (2017). Hormetins as Drugs for
Healthy Aging. In Anti-aging Drugs (pp. 170-180). Royal
Society of Chemistry.
Sunday, September 24, 2017
Hope Versus Depression
In Hesiod’s telling of the Greek myth of Pandora—the first
woman on earth—Pandora is said to have opened a large jar from which all evils
escaped into the world, leaving behind hope. Hope was the only thing that
remained for us humans. Hope is not tangible, but a state of positive
expectation. Hope is an illusion—a trick of the mind—that motivates us to
anticipate rewards, rewards that are themselves purely cerebral encouragement.
Hope is a house of cards built on the anticipation and yearning for illusory
and ephemeral rewards. When Pandora left us with hope she left us with a whole
bunch of tricks of psychology. Perhaps for those with depression, even hope
escaped out of “Pandora’s box.” In
reality we struggle and suffer and gain momentary pleasure and transient
satisfaction until we are released from this ongoing strife by death. This is
how we view the life of animals, but not how we view our own lives. This trick of psychology—Pandora’s Box—releases
us from acknowledging our natural daily grind of survival. We have something
that we do not ascribe to animals. Humans
have feelings, emotions and hope.
In order to understand why we have emotions, we must grasp that
humans have a very large brain. Our brain is the most complex entity in the
universe and it is this complexity that provides us with a clue of what it
does. It represents the world—as we know it—as a model. A virtual reality
machine designed to understand our environment and predict the world. It is our
passport for survival as individuals and as a species. Emotions are our transient
indicators of how well we are approaching this virtual ideal. Emotions nudge us to change towards specific
expectations. Our brain is a perfectly balanced tool to help us improve. However,
having such a complex thinking organ comes with one huge disadvantage: It also
has the capacity for self-reflection. And self-reflection
might be the Achilles Heel in our survival strategy.
In order for the brain to deal with this seemingly
inconvenient critical contemplation, it has developed ways of dealing with
self-reflection and the obvious daily struggle to survive and our eventual
death. Our brain has generated hope as an illusion of a utopia, a
heaven—whether on earth or in the afterlife. For the long term we have hope
that everything has a meaning, a purpose.
We have a narrative, a story that we make our own. For this hope to be
realistic we need to think of ourselves as unique and at the center of our
reality. A selfish existence—solipsism—necessary in order for us to have hope.
Without a selfish investment in the outcome we would have no interest in hope. Hope is selfish and central to being human.
In 2017 Claudia Bloese wrote that, “…almost all major
philosophers acknowledge that hope plays an important role in regard to human
motivation, religious belief or politics.” Hope can either be seen as a way to
motivate humans to do better, or an excuse to be lazy and hope for the best. In
psychology, starting with Charles Snyder’s hope theory, there are two
components to hope: the belief that there is a possibility of happiness in
achieving goals, and a path to achieving these goals. A kind of behavioristic
stepladder, with each successive step-up being promoted by positive
reinforcement. But this interpretation changed with Ernst Bloch‘s three-volume
work The Principle of Hope
(1954-1959). Bloch transforms the aim not of happiness but of an ideal state.
Bloch argued that we aim to achieve our goals not because we become happier but
because we will achieve our utopia. This is an important admission. For Bloch,
a German Marxist, hope is not about being optimistic—some kind of behaviorist
ploy of gaining pleasure for every rewarding behavior—hope is an ambition to attain an ideal state. In this
interpretation of hope, there is only one other alternative, if not heaven then
hell.
The psychology of hope has converged with the utopian and
dystopian view of mankind. And Bloch’s proposition fits in with traditional
religious beliefs about utopia. Bloch argues that the utopian package entails
no death, no disease, no injustices and where everyone is equal. Richard Rorty,
the American pragmatist philosopher shares such an interpretation as well. Rorty
further acknowledges that hopelessness is always based on the absence of a
narrative of (political) progress. This
lack of (positive) narrative defines depression.
This is the triad of depression: lack of self worth,
negative evaluation of situations and lacking optimism for the future. The
opposite of hope, depression is defined by the feeling that “there is nothing
to live for.” Depression is having a narrative arc that does not anticipate
positive changes. Both hope and depression project into the future. The
difference comes in that in order for hope to be real our psychology needs to
get rid of the looming prospect of death that has a long shadow in our future.
Hope cannot exist with the acknowledgment
that we will stop existing. Death is the
antithesis of hope. How do we “cure” this final nothingness in our
narrative arc?
One of the wrinkles in this concept of
hope however is the fact that we all die. What’s the point of everything if at
the end of this journey we find that it was just a transient passage. Hosting a
party at an airport lounge. There is something rotten in the center of hope, this
forbidden fruit for the depressed. In the 1900s William James, the early
psychologist called this fear of death the
“worm at the core” of our being. This tension between the belief that we
behave as though we are at the center of a consistent universe, with the
knowledge of the certainty of our death. To psychologists that now follow
Terror Management Theory, this tension
constitutes a fundamental quandary for humankind, affecting us radically as
nothing else does.
Our
psychology came up with a more subtle solution than simply to completely ignore
our mortality. We have learned to trick ourselves that perhaps even if we die,
we don’t really die. A small part of us remains (soul), or this is only temporary
(reincarnation), or we remain living in other dimensions (legacy), or everyone
else is already dead (zombies) or this is all a dream anyway
(intellectualization.) All together these sophisticated
tricks embrace hope and are a formidable barrier to accepting death.
This tension
is alleviated by some sophisticated thinking strategies. And these tricks are
exactly what are needed to dispel that loss of hope, that depression. But does
the science support this view?
In a review
of the effectiveness of therapies for depression Andrew Butler and his
colleagues reported that Cognitive Behavior Therapies (CBT) was better
than antidepressants for depression and was found to be effective for many
other mental disorders. Which is good
news since a recent study by the Canadian Marta Maslej and her colleagues
reported that medication for depression increases the risk of dying early from
all causes, by some 33%. So if we look at the mechanisms of CBT we find some
surprising insights. In a classic book on cognitive therapy in 1979, Aaron Beck
and his colleagues go on to say that the difference is due to the “…gross
changes in his cognitive organization…” (p.21) These cognitive deficits
involve:
1. Arbitrary inference: making preconceived
conclusion
2. Selective abstraction: focusing on
select negative aspects
3. Overgeneralization: applying the
lessons from an isolated incident to broader contexts
4. Magnification and minimization:
highlighting the negative and diminishing the positive
5. Personalization: relating external
event to self
6. Absolutistic dichotomous thinking:
categorizing events into two extreme classes (perfect vs. broken)
But if the
function of our mind is to develop a view of the world, a world that might be dangerous,
then these aspects of cognition are what we do best for our survival. In a
world that can and does ultimately kill you, you have to make everything
personal. We select quickly what is good
or bad and enhance the ability to protect ourselves and ensure that future
events are anticipated, especially if they are likely to be dangerous. The fact
that this makes us feel miserable is a separate issue. This cognitive organization
is designed for survival, focused exclusively on what could harm you and that
ultimately there is no hope as we are all mortal. This acceptance of mortality is perhaps the reason for the salience of death
and suicide ideation, attempts and engagement.
Aaron Beck
and his colleagues go on to report that: “A way of understanding the thinking
disorder in depression is to conceptualize it in terms of “primitive” vs.
“mature” modes of organizing reality.”(p.14). Within our line of thought, if we see
depression as a natural state without the tricks of hope, then we can interpret
this excellent description of “primitive…gross changes in [his] cognitive organization.”
Rather than a mature embrace of this bag of tricks, those with depression are
stuck without their own bag of tricks. This is where CBT comes in. Resulting in
a narrative arc that our life holds great benefits and pleasure and success and
accomplishment, CBT is a way of
accepting this bag of tricks that accompany hope. To paraphrase Dan Gilbert,
we manufacture happiness. The conclusion is that we accept and promote certain
beliefs that round the edges off our ultimate fate—we delude our impending
death by having these celebratory moments like bread crumbs on the path to nirvana.
Understanding how we maintain this delusion—of hope—for so
long is the linchpin of human psychology. As we get older we lose this shine of
hope. We face our mortality up close and personal. As a result, depression
increases with older age. From the very first step we take, we strive for
independence. Our brain gains mastery in predicting the environment we live in
and gaining a sense of self-mastery, even hubris. We control others when we have
a positive disposition, when we have a positive story line. Out brain understands
this advantage. Our positive narrative arc attracts others and our brain gains better
mastery of the environment. The mastery
of our brain is perhaps the only understood at older age, when some of the
social façade starts to disintegrate. The question is whether it is better to be happy and live in a delusion of hope or
to be depressed and be right. Hesiod’s story of Pandora might have revealed
a deeper truth.
© USA Copyrighted 2017 Mario D. Garrett
© USA Copyrighted 2017 Mario D. Garrett
References
Bloeser, Claudia and Stahl, Titus, "Hope", The
Stanford Encyclopedia of Philosophy (Spring 2017 Edition), Edward N. Zalta
(ed.). Accessed online: https://plato.stanford.edu/archives/spr2017/entries/hope/
Beck, A. T. (Ed.). (1979). Cognitive therapy of depression.
Guilford press.
Butler, A. C., Chapman, J. E., Forman, E. M., & Beck, A.
T. (2006). The empirical status of cognitive-behavioral therapy: a review of
meta-analyses. Clinical psychology review, 26(1), 17-31.
Crona, L., Mossberg, A., & Brådvik, L. (2013). Suicidal
Career in Severe Depression among Long-Term Survivors: In a Followup after
37–53 Years Suicide Attempts Appeared to End Long before Depression. Depression
research and treatment, 2013.
Gilbert, D. (2009). Stumbling on happiness. Vintage Canada.
O'donnell, I., Farmer, R., & Catal, J. (1996).
Explaining suicide: the views of survivors of serious suicide attempts. The
British Journal of Psychiatry, 168(6), 780-786.
Maslej, M. M., Bolker, B. M., Russell, M. J., Eaton, K.,
Durisko, Z., Hollon, S. D., ... & Andrews, P. W. (2017). The Mortality and
Myocardial Effects of Antidepressants Are Moderated by Preexisting
Cardiovascular Disease: A Meta-Analysis. Psychotherapy and Psychosomatics,
86(5), 268-282.
-->
Wednesday, September 20, 2017
Why Does God Want to Kill Me?
We know that we will die.
Yet four out of every five younger adults aged between 18 and 29 believe in the afterlife. At the same time fewer of them say they believe in a god. These Millennials born around 1980-1994—despite doubting the existence of God, believing the Bible is a book of fables, not attending religious services, never praying, and reporting “being not religious at all”—still believe that they have aspects of immortality. They feel entitled enough to be saved after they die without the necessity of a god to save them. The more entitled they feel—white and middle class—the more likely that they do not believe in god but that there is an afterlife waiting for them. Minorities do not feel this entitlement to the same degree.
This resurgence in the belief of immortality without the shackles of believing in god is new. But they have to ask themselves why does god want to kill them in the first place. Such an entitled group needs to face this question head on. For the answer might hold a greater insight then religion, and to address this question we have to look at physical (biological) anthropology.
As a specie, survival is our only ambition. The only way the successive generations prosper is if they are a good fit in their environment and survive long enough to create a new generation. Nature has two extreme methods to achieve this single aim. One is to produce an enormous number of offspring and hope that a few survive long enough to pass on their genes. Another approach—one followed by humans—involves having few children whom we nurture until adulthood. This is our survival strategy as a species. These strategies have mythological names: Semelparity refers to “r” strategists (large number of offspring and then die), and Iteroparity for “K” strategists (a few offspring whom we nurture).
Nurturing is an important—and integral—component of our survival strategy. Nurturing involves having things to teach and living long enough to be able to teach them. Which is why we live so long and have such a big brain, the two go together. Aging is not a dustbin of genetics, but an integral part of our strategy for endurance as a species. Aging and having a big brain go hand-in-hand as nature’s plan for our survival.
With aging also comes the opportunity to learn about the environment. We learn in terms of our skills and also through our biology. We develop immunity from the day we are born and some of these biological adaptations end up in our genes through the transfer of genetic material. Our genes are more permeable then we once thought. We get genes not just from our parents but also from the environment. We get gene transfer from bacteria (plasmids), fungi, viruses, sometimes siblings, mothers from their children. We are a magnet for adaptive genetic material from our environment. As we age we pick-up new genetic material and modify existing genes (epigenetics) before we pass these genes on to our children. Our lives are devoted to just this aim.
Because of our big brain we need more than that…we need a more substantial meaning in life because out brain has made us solipsists—at the center of the universe.
Our brains create virtual realities. We create a model of how the world works. For this world to have meaning to us—other than a simple mental toy that helps us predict our environment—we have to be at the center and “own” this world. We therefore believe that we are unique and have free will. Our impression of reality, dictated by having an image of the world that is just, fair and constant, also requires that we do not think about our own death or our model of the world becomes untenable. This is where our belief in immortality comes in. But god wants to kill us, because that is how our species improves. The faster the turnover, with new generations coming through, the better our species can adapt to the environment. But this clashes with our model of the world.
We want our world to stay constant so that we can retain some level of control over this finely tuned balancing trick. Anticipating our death destroys this impression that the world is orderly and just. But there is one problem with this made-up reality, we see others eventually get old, frail and die. We point at aging as the culprit. That is when we see aging as the problem that we need to solve rather than a survival strategy.
But if we understand aging we will understand the tricks of our psychology. Our strategy for survival—Iteroparity “K” strategy—means that we nurture younger generation. With our increasing lifespan we have been extending this nurturing longer. Could it be that we have been nurturing them too long? That this younger generation have forgotten how to be adults themselves. The younger generation increasing sense of entitlement is but a reaction to the knowledge that they are truly one mortal link in the immortal chain of life. The shackle of religion that buffers us from this realization is no longer strong enough.
For this new generation, we have nurtured them to the extent that they feel important enough that they do not have to consider death. The model created by their brain includes an afterlife to alleviate the possibility that they are not at the center of the universe. Emerging generations are rejecting death and they are also not having children. By liberating themselves from religion, norms and expectations they are rejecting the need to have children. Children will necessitate them to move away from being at the center of the universe.
Our aging is an integral part of survival up to a point. Because
we have extended our longevity we are nurturing our children too long. Our
human psychology that relies on us being at the center of the universe feeds
off this nurturing and becomes a prominent feature of our existence. Throughout
all this nature wants too maintain a turnover. We are meant to die, as much as
it is detrimental to the individual, aging and death form our strategy as a
species. Our personal salvation is that we delude ourselves this reality and for
emerging generations they are doing this by avoiding god and believing in an
afterlife.
Yet four out of every five younger adults aged between 18 and 29 believe in the afterlife. At the same time fewer of them say they believe in a god. These Millennials born around 1980-1994—despite doubting the existence of God, believing the Bible is a book of fables, not attending religious services, never praying, and reporting “being not religious at all”—still believe that they have aspects of immortality. They feel entitled enough to be saved after they die without the necessity of a god to save them. The more entitled they feel—white and middle class—the more likely that they do not believe in god but that there is an afterlife waiting for them. Minorities do not feel this entitlement to the same degree.
This resurgence in the belief of immortality without the shackles of believing in god is new. But they have to ask themselves why does god want to kill them in the first place. Such an entitled group needs to face this question head on. For the answer might hold a greater insight then religion, and to address this question we have to look at physical (biological) anthropology.
As a specie, survival is our only ambition. The only way the successive generations prosper is if they are a good fit in their environment and survive long enough to create a new generation. Nature has two extreme methods to achieve this single aim. One is to produce an enormous number of offspring and hope that a few survive long enough to pass on their genes. Another approach—one followed by humans—involves having few children whom we nurture until adulthood. This is our survival strategy as a species. These strategies have mythological names: Semelparity refers to “r” strategists (large number of offspring and then die), and Iteroparity for “K” strategists (a few offspring whom we nurture).
Nurturing is an important—and integral—component of our survival strategy. Nurturing involves having things to teach and living long enough to be able to teach them. Which is why we live so long and have such a big brain, the two go together. Aging is not a dustbin of genetics, but an integral part of our strategy for endurance as a species. Aging and having a big brain go hand-in-hand as nature’s plan for our survival.
With aging also comes the opportunity to learn about the environment. We learn in terms of our skills and also through our biology. We develop immunity from the day we are born and some of these biological adaptations end up in our genes through the transfer of genetic material. Our genes are more permeable then we once thought. We get genes not just from our parents but also from the environment. We get gene transfer from bacteria (plasmids), fungi, viruses, sometimes siblings, mothers from their children. We are a magnet for adaptive genetic material from our environment. As we age we pick-up new genetic material and modify existing genes (epigenetics) before we pass these genes on to our children. Our lives are devoted to just this aim.
Because of our big brain we need more than that…we need a more substantial meaning in life because out brain has made us solipsists—at the center of the universe.
Our brains create virtual realities. We create a model of how the world works. For this world to have meaning to us—other than a simple mental toy that helps us predict our environment—we have to be at the center and “own” this world. We therefore believe that we are unique and have free will. Our impression of reality, dictated by having an image of the world that is just, fair and constant, also requires that we do not think about our own death or our model of the world becomes untenable. This is where our belief in immortality comes in. But god wants to kill us, because that is how our species improves. The faster the turnover, with new generations coming through, the better our species can adapt to the environment. But this clashes with our model of the world.
We want our world to stay constant so that we can retain some level of control over this finely tuned balancing trick. Anticipating our death destroys this impression that the world is orderly and just. But there is one problem with this made-up reality, we see others eventually get old, frail and die. We point at aging as the culprit. That is when we see aging as the problem that we need to solve rather than a survival strategy.
But if we understand aging we will understand the tricks of our psychology. Our strategy for survival—Iteroparity “K” strategy—means that we nurture younger generation. With our increasing lifespan we have been extending this nurturing longer. Could it be that we have been nurturing them too long? That this younger generation have forgotten how to be adults themselves. The younger generation increasing sense of entitlement is but a reaction to the knowledge that they are truly one mortal link in the immortal chain of life. The shackle of religion that buffers us from this realization is no longer strong enough.
For this new generation, we have nurtured them to the extent that they feel important enough that they do not have to consider death. The model created by their brain includes an afterlife to alleviate the possibility that they are not at the center of the universe. Emerging generations are rejecting death and they are also not having children. By liberating themselves from religion, norms and expectations they are rejecting the need to have children. Children will necessitate them to move away from being at the center of the universe.
References
Garrett, M (2017). Immortality With a Lifetime Guarantee. Createspace. USA.
Harley, B., & Firebaugh, G. (1993). Americans' belief in
an afterlife: Trends over the past two decades. Journal for the Scientific Study
of Religion, 269-278.
Twenge, J. M., Sherman, R. A., Exline, J. J., & Grubbs,
J. B. (2016). Declines in American adults’ religious participation and beliefs,
1972-2014. Sage Open, 6(1), 2158244016638133.
-->
Monday, September 11, 2017
Age Apartheid
I sometimes stray off in class. Like some students, the
classroom becomes my own little world of fantasy. Except, unlike my students, I
am teaching the class.
Last week I was discussing how peer-ist our society is. We
tend to only mix with people our own age. As I was lecturing I tried to recall
the last time I held a baby in my arms, and in front of 110 students I realized
that it must have been more than two years ago. I joked that I see a lot more
older people because that is my job. But unless you live in an extended family,
and most students in the United States do not, then it is unlikely for them to
interact with children or older adults on a consistent basis. By not engaging
with older adults my students are likely to develop negative ageist stereotypes
In 1992 Joann Montepare and her colleagues looked at how
college students’ spoke with their grandparents and parents on the phone. They
found that with their grandparents, college students had a higher pitch used
more babyish, feminine voice, while at the same time being more deferential and
congenial. Different from the type of speech exchanged with their parents. And
this differential treatment starts much earlier than college.
Children tend to evolve a negative view of older adults early
on. Negative views of older adults seem to come naturally to young minds. For
example in 1990 Charles Perdue and Michael Gurtman asked children to recall
traits after they were introduced to the person they are recalling the traits
for. They could recall more negative traits when their reference was an “old”
person and more positive traits about a “young” person. Children already have preferential
memories. They remember AND recall negative traits because they are already
associated with older adults. The author argue that these age biases are
automatic, unintentional and unconscious. It seems that such discrimination is
pervasive and results in negative behavior towards older adults.
In 1986 while observing behavior of children as they
interacted with elderly people Leora Isaacs and David Bearison found that
children were quite discriminating. When
faced with either of two study helpers—one was much older, but both dressed
similar and professionally—when with the older helper, children sat farther
away, made less eye contact, spoke less and initiated less conversation and
asked for less help. Children have already learned to keep older adults at a
distance.
Could closer
interaction remove these stereotypes?
One way to
deal with these negative stereotypes is to develop a closer association with
older adults. But the results were initially surprising. The University of
Maryland professor, Carol Seefldt in 1987 found that 4 and 5-year-old children
who had visited infirm elders in a nursing home once a week for a full year
held more negative attitudes towards older adults compared to a similar group
without this contact. However, the day care and nursing home staff,
reported positive and long-lasting benefits to both the children and elders.
I remember my children coming home from Montessori School
proud to tell me that they visited a nursing home with “old people.” Knowing
that this was my interest they knew I was interested in what they learned and I
was anticipating a positive response. Smelly and horrible was their response.
But then in hindsight it should not have surprised me. If my experience of
older adults is exclusively based on a nursing home, I similarly would have a
very negative view of aging.
Which explains why the evidence that intergenerational
contact influences children's attitudes is mixed. In 2002 Molly Middlecamp and Dana Gross enrolled 3-to-5 year old
children in either an intergenerational daycare program or regular daycare program.
They found that the two groups were very similar in their attitudes to older
adults. In general, children rated older adults less positively than they did
younger adults, and these children believed that older adults could participate
in fewer activities than children could. The take home lesson is that not all
prejudices can be overwhelmed by knowledge, only through appropriate knowledge.
Without appropriate engagement, we get a voluminous amount
of information about older adults exclusively from the media, especially as
reflected in adolescent literature. David Peterson and Elizabeth Karnes
reported that in fiction literature older persons were underdeveloped and
peripheral to the major action in the books reviewed. And there are nuances in
perception that are determined by the socio-economic context. Tom Hickey and
his colleagues as early as 1968 found that among the third grade, students from
higher socioeconomic groups looked more favorably on older persons (although
perceiving loneliness problems), and children from poorer homes did not
anticipate loneliness but expected senility and eccentric behavior. A social
component of the type of stereotypes is evident.
If my information is coming from a negative source, then my
negative views are unlikely to be assuaged. My social class or culture might
modify these stereotypes. By designing an appropriate intervention, where young
people interact in a meaningful way with older people, only then can negative
views of aging be replaced with more realistic perceptions. This was the
intention and success of a 2002 program initiated by Eileen Schwalbach and Sharon
Kiernan. The program was designed for fourth grader to visit an elder
"special friend" at a nursing home every week for five months. They
were primed before their visit by describing some of the issues that might come
up during their visit. During the course of the study, the 4th graders’
attitudes toward their "special friends" were consistently positive
and their empathy increased.
Milledge Murphey, Jane Myers, and Phyllis Drennan wrote a review
of such effective programs. They especially focus on the seminal program begun
in 1968 by Esstoya Whitley. As part of
their school curriculum, 6-8 years old students "adopted" a
grandparent from among residents of a nearby nursing home. As anticipated the children’s attitudes
became more positive towards their adoptee. But what was unexpected was that the
children continued visiting their adopted grandparents for a few years at least
three times per week. The children gained a positive attitude toward the
elderly and a more realistic view of aging and developed a true relationship
with their adoptees.
But perhaps the most memorable study of interaction was a
recent 2017 British factual entertainment program—euphemism for reality TV in
the United States—by Channel 4. Although such intergenerational programs have
been conducted in the United States for more than half a century, this was the
first time it was televised from the start. The nursing group participants came
from St Monica Trust retirement community in Bristol where once a week for six
weeks a group of 4-yer old kindergartners descended upon the sedentary tranquility
of the nursing home and infused it with ambulant energy. The weekly television
series updates the viewers with funny and eccentric interactions. But at the
end what the show clearly shows is how the older residents improve their
cognition, physical ability and mental health across the six week of
interaction with the children. In turn the children develop greater empathy for
their older playmates.
And the question is why were we separated in the first
place? How and why society become so age-segregated?
Looking across a sea of young faces in class I realize that we
start at school and the best place to disaggregate is schools. Ivan Illich, the
infamous activist from the 1960s already covered this topic. In the 1971 book
on Deschooling Society Illich discusses ways of removing the barriers to
education and to incorporate education into the general social network through social
hubs like libraries. With the incredible amount of money that educational institutions
make—especially publicly funded ones—there is no incentive to change the
status quo. Until then, we have to suffer the consequences of age apartheid
that we continue promoting, while feeling enriched and uplifted when we see
those barriers removed, even if for our brief viewing pleasure, albeit on television for now. In the meantime I need to get back to my age-disaggregated class.
References
Atchley, R. C. (1980). Social forces in later life. Belmont,
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Brubaker, T., & Powers, E. (1976).The stereotype of
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Channel 4 (2017). Old Peoples Home for Four Year Olds.
Accessed online 12/9/2017: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Xm2z5468htA
Duncan, R. Preface. In E. Whitley (Ed.), From time to time:
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