Our treatment of the elderly reveals who we truly are

We live in an age that worships youth and productivity and treats old age like a disease to be cured rather than a chapter to be honoured. The moment a person stops contributing to the economy, society seems to decide they no longer matter. It’s an indictment of our values—and a warning sign that something has gone badly wrong.

Pope Francis, of happy memory, spent years calling this what it is: a “throwaway culture.” It’s a culture that sees people as disposable once their usefulness is exhausted.

And the elderly, who should be cherished for their wisdom and experience, are often the first to be cast aside—tucked away in isolation, ignored in public debates, and blamed for problems they didn’t create.

The Dicastery for the Laity, the Family and Life at the Vatican hosted the Second International Congress on the Pastoral Care of the Elderly October 2–4 under the theme, Your elders shall dream dreams! (cf Joel 2:28)

On October 3, Pope Leo XIV, who became a septuagenarian on September 14, drove this point home in his address: “The elderly are a gift, a blessing to be welcomed,” he said, and “a longer life is something positive; indeed, it is one of the signs of hope in our time.”

Yet, we behave as if longevity were a sin. Older people are routinely “accused of not leaving room for young people in the workforce” or of “consuming too many economic and social resources.”

In other words, we scapegoat them for being alive. This mindset is more than just disrespectful—it’s self-destructive. A society that treats its elders as burdens forgets that it is looking at its own future.

“The fragility that appears in the elderly reminds us” of our shared mortality, the Pope warned. That fragility, he added, “is a bridge towards Heaven.” But instead of facing that truth, we bury it—pushing the elderly out of sight so we don’t have to confront our own fate.

Erased from memory

The reality is even bleaker. “Old age sadly is increasingly becoming something that comes suddenly and catches us unprepared,” the Pope said. We spend our lives pretending we’ll never grow old, and then panic when it happens: to our parents, our neighbours, and eventually ourselves. Meanwhile, many older people live and die alone, stripped of purpose, their contributions erased from memory.

“May no one be abandoned! May no one feel useless!” was the Pope’s plea.

That it even needs to be said is proof of how badly we’re failing.

The elderly remain essential. They are the “ones who attend Mass assiduously and lead parish activities,” the ones still teaching, still volunteering, still praying for a world that has forgotten them.

Their value is not in what they produce but in who they are, the bearers of wisdom, living witnesses to history, and, yes, dreamers. “Your elders shall dream dreams!” the congress reminded us. If we are wise, we will listen.

The measure of our humanity is not how fast we innovate—think Artificial Intelligence—or how much we consume. It’s how we treat those who once cared for us and how we prepare to become them.