Sixty five

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I was 65 at 6.05 this morning. I know the time because I have a twin, and so the time is on my birth certificate. We were 130 not out between us at 6.20 this morning, since he made it into the world 15 minutes after me.

I do not, of course, feel any different for hitting the age at which throughout most of my life it was thought that old age began. That is technically 66 for me now. But it remains the case that all the pension arrangements I have ever been involved in did think that this was the day when I put on my slippers, started smoking a pipe, and began playing a little gentle golf to while away my years.

I won't, of course, be doing any of those things. I will be carrying on working. I suspect I will never stop doing so. The idea of a life without writing is, for me unimaginable. I carry on doing so when on holiday, which is why no one ever notices when I am away. Why, then, should I retire?

That said, I have been surprised to note some changes in my attitudes towards work, largely since long-Covid hit me. I now know that it is unlikely I will stay in academia for more than another five years, when I will have delivered my last impact case study.

I have also decided I will probably not get involved again in another project-specific grant of the type I am working on with Copenhagen Business School at present. I have enjoyed them but I now enjoy doing social media more. That one expires at the end of 2024.

And I even think that I might give up applying for grants altogether over the next few years. I will see, but I suspect that by the time I am 70 I might give them up and the demands that they make.

However, recognising all that is indicative of thinking on my part akin to Tony Benn's suggestion that he gave up being an MP so that he could do politics. If I gave up specific funding it will be to release more time for my own thinking and writing.

There is a reason for saying that. Being 65 reminds me that I am finite. There is less time to come than there has been. I want to enjoy that time. Some will be spent pursuing my three other passions (my family, birdwatching when walking, and railway history and modelling) but I have no intention of giving up my other great passion, which is the pursuit of economic justice. If I give up some types of funding over the next few years that will only be because I want more time to spend on the work that I want to do with less time required to meet deadlines imposed by someone other than myself.

Saying this, I know that I am lucky to think that might be possible. I have had five days in hospital in my life. I have no chronic conditions. I take no prescription drugs on a regular basis, which I gather is unusual at 65.  I am reasonably fit and can still run if I have to, although I prefer brisk walking. That said, I have realised how debilitating illness can be: long Covid demonstrated that.  I know I need time to take care of myself too, and I will.

But, adding all that lot together what I conclude is that the intellectual interaction that this blog (plus my family, friends and colleagues) supply is fundamental to my future. The challenges that they create give me purpose, and the blog is certainly a big part in that. That is why I appreciate the support people provide to it. And precisely because that support means that I know I can look forward to enjoying being busy doing something I enjoy, and which others seem to think worthwhile, then I can treat the whole idea of retirement as something that is unlikely to ever be for me.  65 is just a number. I'm choosing to ignore it.


If moderation is slow on the blog today, please forgive me. I'm going to be out for lunch and much of the afternoon.


From my wife this morning, as if she thinks I might care about numbers (😊)

 


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