Feeling Old? Envy the Lobster

The certainty of death is hard enough. But aging as a prelude—the wrinkling, weakening, deteriorating and the rest of the assault—can feel downright demeaning! Is there a benefit here for survival of the species, or for any species, that no one told me about before I reached 73?

lobster (anvilcloud.blogspot.com)

(anvilcloud.blogspot.com)

Not all species go through their version of this. The paths that organisms follow after maturity vary enormously. Some plants live for one year only, others come back every season. Bacteria clone themselves and don’t die from age at all but from hostile organisms and conditions in their environment. Seabirds age very slowly; as long as they can fly, they can stay ahead of most predators.  Lobsters don’t age; they can continue to grow and remain fertile for 45 years or more in the wild, dying only when they can no longer molt and grow a larger shell.

How and why the declines of aging are included in the final phases of some species’ lives is complex. Wikipedia’s “Senescence” introduces the range of theories and uncertainties. Here are three insights from the evolutionary perspective that make sense to me.

One is that certain harmful genetic mutations switch on later in life after an organism’s reproductive period has ended. Many cancers in humans do, for example. Because they don’t impact the number or health of the offspring, such genes do no harm to the persistence of the species and so they are unlikely to be lost over the generations. The diseases of the elderly get passed along by the young.

Even more unfortunately, some mechanisms in our bodies boost our health when we’re young and then come back to bite us when we get older. Digesting calcium, for instance, builds strong bones early on but helps clog and stiffen arteries decades later. As long as such a function improves our fitness to make and raise babies, whatever damage it does later on doesn’t matter much in the very long run.

A third way in which selection seems indifferent to the pains of aging is statistical: even if natural selection did reduce the ravages of aging and prolong the fertile period, the population of such organisms would still decline with age as accidents and predators took their inevitable toll. The body invests its resources where they are the most effective for the future, in youth and early reproduction, not in a comfortable old age.

In these ways and others, aging is linked to the importance of reproduction and the dangers of predators and other external forces. For primates, including me, we reproduce early because the big cats—leopards, jaguars, cougars, tigers—stalked us for millions of years in the forests and grass lands. And for most other species as well, the safest bet for species continuity is simple: reproduce early. Still, the exceptions are fascinating. Lobsters in their suit of armor run little risk from ancient predators, so they can reproduce throughout their lives without ever aging into genetic irrelevance.

So, armed with such insights, do I experience my weakening muscles, declining sexuality, distracted thinking,  and dulled senses with any less resentment? Yes, a little. Knowing that the decline has its place, even though it’s a melancholy one, in the evolution that brought me to being in the first place is some consolation.

 

In the Men’s Locker Room

Standing at his locker, an older man says hi how’re you doing to the middle-aged man coming in. “Above ground and breathing,” answers the younger man cheerfully. I laughed even though the quip seemed to be coming from the wrong man. The locker room is full of ghosts.

During the middle of the day, most of the men at this health club are either weakened  from a condition of some sort or more or less old. We work out lightly, swim slowly, and maybe socialize. Our bodies, naked or wrapped in towels, move by the lockers and showers and stop in front of the TVs on Fox or ESPAN.

leanbodyrx.com

leanbodyrx.com

Most of the men recognize friends and chat about ailments and about others who “still live here” or “no longer live there.” In between the tales of sports and business, stories roll out about doctors, meds, procedures, therapies, chemo, dosages, a disabled friend, the grandson finally coming to visit, a wife’s long recovery at rehab and home.

One man told a startling tale—actual news—about an opera fan who scattered his wife’s ashes over the orchestra pit during intermission at the Metropolitan Opera, bringing the performance of “William Tell” to a quick end.

I don’t think any of us find it easy to look at our own or others’ collapsing bodies. And it may just be me but I think that as our aspirations and achievements move behind us, we men live a little in the shadow of the longevity of women (the majority gender at the club) and that extra durability they carry in order to bring the species along.  So in the locker room we are friendly and patient with each other. And above ground and breathing.