Some British researchers have discovered that how old you feel relative to your actual age is a predictor of longevity. About 6,500 adults, whose average age was 66, were asked how old they felt they were, most of them answering that they felt at least 3 years younger than they actually were. They were tracked for 8 years, during which 1,030 died. Of those who felt younger than they actually were, 14% died; of those who felt their age, 19% died; and of those who felt older than they actually were, 25% died. In sum, those who felt older than their age were 40% more likely to die during the 8-year follow-up period than those who felt younger than they were.
What intrigues me about this research is not the correlation between longevity and feeling more or less than one’s actual age, but that people were able to answer that question at all. And when the research subjects answered that question, did they too think it peculiar, or is it just me? I am 68 years old, and I know exactly what it feels like to be me at the age of 68. So, does that mean I feel my age? If each person measures how it feels to be a certain age by how he feels at that age, there is only one possible answer that can be given: “I feel my age.”
Now, I realize that how I feel at 68 may be different from how another person feels at that age, but I haven’t the slightest idea what his feeling at that age is. I suppose I can compare how I feel at 68 with how I felt at different ages in the past, although that is a dubious prospect. In one sense, I do not feel any different than I felt when I was 5 years old. Of course, at that age, I was looking forward to Christmas with anticipation of what Santa Claus would bring me, and I certainly do not have that feeling anymore. Therefore, I guess I do not feel like a 5-year-old.
Do I feel 16 years old? Well, I am no longer driven wild with lust at the thought of those girls I went to school with, so I guess I do not feel like a 16-year-old. And I can continue in this fashion for a while, eliminating years in which I was significantly younger on account of the fact that I no longer care about what I cared about back then. So, let’s get closer to the present. Because the average person surveyed said he felt at least 3 years younger than he was, I shall simply ask myself if I feel 65 years old. Well, I am not sure.
Have you ever tried to match a color simply going by memory rather than by comparing it with a sample? If you have, you know how far off your memory of that color sensation can be. By the same token, trying to compare my feeling now with my feeling 3 years ago, not having a sample feeling to go by, I suspect my judgment as to whether that feeling is the same would not fare much better. Besides, when I was 65, did I feel 65 or did I feel 62? If at the time I felt 62, then I did not know back then what it felt like to be 65. Only now that I am 68 do I finally know what 65 feels like. At this rate, when I get to be 71 years old, I will finally know what it feels like to be the age I am right now.
And even if this made sense, the absurdity becomes even more pronounced when we consider people who say they feel older than they actually are. I mean, I guess it is possible that I feel 71 years old, because I have never been 71 years old before, so how could I say I don’t feel that age with any confidence? In other words, even if we allow this solipsistic evaluation of what age one feels by comparing with how one felt in the past, that surely will not work for the future. That would be like trying to match a color with neither a sample nor memory to go by, a color you had never seen but can only imagine you will see eventually.
Being social animals, we have a great capacity for empathy, for being able to know what it feels like to be another person in a given situation. When I see an old man slightly bent over and limping as he walks along, I can imagine what it must feel like to be that way. As I am neither bent over nor forced to walk with a limp, I suppose I would say that I feel younger than he does, since I know that his affliction is likely to be a function of age. And if I further know that he is 82, I guess I would conclude that I do not feel 82. Then, if by the time I am 71, I find myself bent over and walking with a limp, I guess I could then say that I do feel 82, just like that old man. But what if, upon being asked, the old man said he actually felt 3 years younger than he was, which is to say, 79 years old? Does that mean I should revise my estimate and say I do not feel 82, but only 79?
Because I cannot make any sense out of saying that one feels a given age, even the age one actually is, without being either tautologous or illogical, perhaps I should forget about trying to find a rational basis for answering the question, “How old do you feel?” and ask what is going on in the mind of a person who answers that question in whatever fashion. In that case, all I can come up with is that saying how old you feel is simply a function of how good you feel: a person who says he feels younger than he really is probably feels good; a person who says he feels older than he really is probably feels bad.
In that case, researchers could simply ask people how they felt and then correlate their answers with longevity. But now we are bordering on the pointless. Should we be surprised if people who feel good live longer than those who feel bad, given that feeling bad is often a sign of ill health? Scientific research that does nothing more than confirm the obvious is not likely to get published, let alone cited in the popular press. But if the question, “How do you feel?” is replaced by, “How old do you feel?” an obvious correlation can appear to be an interesting one.
Or maybe the researchers are just being clever, and I am just not giving them the credit they deserve. Perhaps they realize that how a person answers an illogical question can be more revealing than how he answers an ordinary one.