JOHN MASTERSON
On the scrapheap in the prime of life is nonsense
ALOT of people I know are what I think of as old CODs. They are the Comfortably Off Disgruntled. They are all scratching their heads at the moment because they lent their votes to the Green Party to shake things up a bit and are now wondering, while the Greens know how to save the world, if they can save themselves from themselves. Like a lot of my COD friends, I voted Green but didn’t realise many of them should be in the Monster Raving Loony Party. Some old CODs even voted for Peter Casey (I didn’t, but it crossed my mind), not because they wanted him to be the president, but to send a message that they were fed up. That didn’t work.
Old CODs are anyone over 60 in my book. They are somewhere between the prime of life and the premature scrapheap. The scrapheap annoys them because the real scrapheap is a lot further away than in used to be.
These CODs can be fired up by any of the following words: retirement, pension or 65. Back in the 1950s, according to Central Statistics Office figures, a healthy 65-year-old man was expected to live until 77. Today it is 83. For a woman, it used to be 78 and today it is 86. So leaving out the financial element, in physical and psychological terms, 65 is a nonsensical cut-off point in 2020. Back in the mists of time, people lucky enough to get a job began working in their late teens, many without even a Leaving Cert, and clung on to that job for dear life. Today it is several years in some form of third-level education and a few years in some other country before coming back here, if they ever do. And the same job for life is becoming rare.
Then there are the financial issues. Gardai can retire at 55, and must at 60, with a cool lump sum of over 100 grand. The sensitive policing during lockdown was, I suspect, in part because of the wisdom and leadership of older gardai. We should be keeping them, not putting them out to grass. TDs retiring at 60 get a lump sum of ¤135k and ¤45k annually thereafter. Enda Kenny got a ¤378k lump sum and subsists on ¤126k per annum. The private sector, which pays for this, is in the halfpenny place, with many small business owners not able to afford a pension as they are trying to keep their business afloat.
All of this is mad. Mad also are the forced retirements of Sean O’Rourke (who would be on any election coverage shortlist), Mary Kennedy (who is one of the most trusted broadcasters in Ireland) and Aonghus McAnally (whose many and various talents are too plentiful to go through here).
The CODs I know in the private sector do not even think of retiring at 65. This may be because they took a hit in the last recession. Or because they enjoy working. I often hear them say they might like a four- or even three-day week. But I never hear anyone say they can’t wait to begin 20 years of walking, gardening, babysitting and playing golf. They paid tax, have time on their hands, and their hobby is watching how public money is spent/wasted. Thankfully no one forced Bob Dylan, Joan Bakewell, Michael D, Margaret Atwood, Mick Jagger, Joan Baez, Joe Biden, Ruth Bader Ginsburg, Paul McCartney, Van the Man, Meryl Streep, John Cleese, The Queen, David Attenborough, Helen Mirren or Steven Spielberg to retire. I am not sure some of them have even realised they are old yet. Our retirement and pensions policy is a psychological, physical and financial mess. Someone needs to come up with a policy for this century and this economy. That would involve substantial political will. I won’t hold my breath. Turkeys and Christmas and all that.