The cover of this book features a barrel, in keeping with the worn adage that ageing is akin to the maturation process of wine (hence the title Better with Age), an analogy that has enjoyed remarkable longevity despite the fact that many wines do not mature well. As a general reader, you would learn a lot about the psychology of ageing from this book, and for a novice gerontologist, the deft summaries of key theories (such as Selective Optimisation and Compensation, and Socioemotional Selectivity Theory) could come in handy. The well-established finding that old age can be happier and more emotionally stable than younger ages is presented in detail and through engaging examples.
Castel admits that there is no single widely accepted definition of successful ageing, and defaults to the idea that we ‘know it when we see it’ (p. 4). The book is replete with examples of such ‘know it when we see it’ cases (accompanied by inspirational quotes), including Warren Buffett, Mick Jagger and lesser-known ‘ageing heroes’. The ‘models’ of active and successful ageing (Timonen, Reference Timonen2016) that are peppered throughout the book are almost exclusively Western, with a preponderance of (white) men – especially celebrities and sports stars from the United States of America – over women among these exemplars. This begs the question whether we are learning anything other than exceptional success in earlier life tends to breed exceptionally successful old age. However, towards the end (p. 169), Castel contradictorily declares that ‘almost 90% of the population can be considered successful agers’, or at least – somewhat patronisingly – ‘provide inspiring life stories … for their family and future generations’.
The main messages of the book centre on the importance of attitudes, agency and self-perceptions. The key sales pitch here is that ‘the attitudes one holds about aging are related to how well one actually ages’ (p. 17). While such statements are tenable within the context of population-based studies, they become highly questionable when dished out as lifestyle advice. I have reservations about the ethics of telling a reader – in essence – that they simply need to think themselves young and healthy, when in fact they could be affected by factors that make positive outcomes in old age unlikely (ranging from adverse genetic make-up to a life-long burden of disease and material deprivation).
The book is written for the intelligent general reader, but even in this group, many will not have the insight that research findings pertaining to broad patterns at population level cannot be straightforwardly applied in each individual case; hence my reservations about selling the idea that any one of us can just think ourselves young. The phrasing is usually careful to avoid overt simplification (e.g. ‘physical exercise … and diet can play an important role … [in] reducing the likelihood of developing dementia’; p. 20), yet the general reader tends to read into such statements the prospect of steering clear of dementia through his or her individual actions. In parts, the advice is startlingly simplified and the promises rather unguarded, for instance a heading on p. 34 declares: ‘A smile … can add 5 to 10 years to your life!’
The likely readership of this book consists of the ‘worried well’, and as such its messages are largely preaching to the converted. Indeed, some of the advice on active lifestyles (Chapter Five) is so generic that the ‘worried well’ reader will be familiar with it already. Somewhat irritatingly, the author veers between referring to ‘older adults’ in the impersonal third-person plural, to using the collective ‘we’ and to addressing the reader directly as ‘you’, and occasionally lapses into stating the obvious (e.g. on p. 133 where we learn that the words window, cookie and mouse have new meanings in the context of computers).
The book is on strongest and most interesting ground when outlining the differences in the brain activity of older adults relative to younger adults. Chapter Three on how memory changes with age is instructive and will reassure many readers who are concerned about their memory. But striking the balance between flippancy and reassurance is not easy; I was left wondering about the wisdom of the recommendation ‘Don't sweat the small stuff’ (p. 55) in the case of people who do have early stage memory problems and have had the genuinely worrying experience of getting lost or losing something important.
Notwithstanding the unease that any critical gerontologist has about selling ‘recipes’ for successful ageing, I can support some of the sentiments expressed in this highly readable book, such as ‘We are all older-adults-in-training’ (p. 187). It is a pity that this hint at the lifecourse perspective – with greater attention to how social structures, statuses and contexts shape us – is not more in evidence in this book that ends up sending the clear but erroneous message that we make our own old age through individual choices.
