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The importance of a midlife crisis After 40, the only thing waiting is death — and Radio 2

Welcome aboard. (Photo by Tim P. Whitby/Getty Images for Studiocanal)

Welcome aboard. (Photo by Tim P. Whitby/Getty Images for Studiocanal)


June 4, 2021   5 mins

I know the moment when I became middle-aged, because somebody told me. I walked out on stage to perform a comedy routine, and someone in the audience tweeted — young people don’t heckle comedians any more; they live-tweet their feelings about them — that I was another “middle-aged white dude”. I was 38.

Yet within a few months I realised they were right: I had a favourite garden centre, I had joined the National Trust and, most terrifying of all, I had found myself listening to Steve Wright in the afternoon on Radio 2. That’s not even the end of the story. I loved the show, until Wright played Pulp’s “Common People” and, at the end, mentioned that it was one of the afternoon’s “Oldies”. I switched the radio off and sat in silence for the rest of my journey. Within a year or two, I had given up comedy, moved to Cornwall and taken up wild swimming.

Today, I am tempted to buy that tweet as a non-fungible token — if that wasn’t an extremely silly thing to do — as it changed my life. Perhaps the tweeter would throw in the rest of their thread, in which they expanded on my problematic cisheteronormativity and other middle-aged attitudes. It is striking that the same person who believes that gender can be totally separated from biology will assume without thinking that being middle-aged is biologically predetermined; social constructionists like Margaret Morganroth Gullette thought that we are aged not primarily by biology but by culture.

The opposite was believed by William Osler, Regius Professor of Medicine at Oxford, who insisted on the “comparative uselessness” of men over 40: “the effective, moving, vitalising work of the world is done between the ages of twenty-five and forty — these fifteen golden years of plenty, in which there is always a balance in the mental bank and credit is still good”. After 40, you are only frittering away the capital; you could look on the midlife crisis, then, as the last attempt to get something in the bank for a rainy day.

Mark Jackson’s “intimate history of the Midlife Crisis”, Broken Dreams, is an attempt to synthesise these two viewpoints. Just as it would be foolish to deny that the drop in hormone levels on hitting middle age has any effect, it would be wrong to suggest that there are no cultural factors in the midlife crisis.

Before the twentieth century, the concept was unknown, partly because there was no middle age to speak of: those born in 1891 could expect to inherit from their parents at the age of 37, but baby boomers had to wait, on average, until they were 56. With people having children younger — or, at least, drawing a line under having children younger — this created a new demographic, sandwiched between the elderly and the youth.

At first, this age seemed full of promise: the best-selling book of 1933 was Life Begins at Forty, in which Walter Pitkin argued that while men “wore out at 40” in previous ages, with modern medicines and mechanisation increasing the active lifespan, “men and women alike turn from the ancient task of making a living to the strange new task of living”.

But it is just as true to say that “death begins at 40”. As one of the books cited by Professor Jackson, the Ladybird Book of the Midlife Crisis, puts it: “When we are young, we all dream of doing something wonderful and exciting with our lives. What will we be? A cosmonaut? An underwater detective? A tommy gunner? A groin surgeon? Anything is possible. And then, one day, it isn’t.”

Change is — to quote Brideshead Revisited, the best novel about middle age — “the only evidence of life”; and the moment you realise that promise will not be fulfilled is the day that you die. As Jane Pearce and Saul Newton of the Sullivan Institute for Research in Psychoanalysis wrote, “many people die during middle age, although they may wander through the world like zombies waiting to be buried decently for thirty years or more”.  It is no accident that Reginald Iolanthe Perrin carried a briefcase with the initials “RIP”.

The midlife crisis, then, is a choice between Death and Life; it is no wonder it is stressful. The phrase comes from a 1959 lecture by Elliott Jaques, who defined its parameters: “entering the prime of life, the stage of fulfilment, but at the same time the prime and fulfilment are dated. Death lies beyond…” Efforts to remain young — “the hypochondriacal concern over health and appearance, the emergence of sexual promiscuity in order to prove youth and potency, the hollowness and lack of genuine enjoyment of life, and the frequency of religious concern” — are all “attempts at a race against time”.

Although Jaques was a psychoanalyst, this diagnosis was not based on his practice; he only had one case study, a middle-aged man named “Mr N”. In an interview some years afterwards, he admitted that he was Mr N. (Professor Jackson fails to mention this; perhaps it would give rise to the outrageous suggestion that there is an element of narcissism in the midlife crisis.)

This book starts, quite rightly, with the Fall and Rise of Reginald Perrin. Reggie Perrin is stuck in a rut; his children have left home, and he is bored with a pointless job that will take up his time until he retires. So he runs naked into the sea on the beach in Broadchurch, supposedly to commit suicide. The first series ends happily, however, when he returns in disguise as Martin Wellborn, and gets back together with the wife he abandoned. A happy ending, if you are willing to accept Elizabeth Perrin as someone who only exists in relation to her husband. (Where’s her midlife crisis?)

Professor Jackson uses the story of Reggie Perrin to illustrate the factors in the midlife crisis, with one curious omission. This is clearly a spiritual crisis — and I have seen Christian readings of the series as a self-emptying or kenosis as part of a spiritual journey; and other, less convincing readings, which point out that CJ, Perrin’s boss at Sunshine Desserts, is JC (or Jesus Christ) backwards or that Perrin dies and is reborn through water, and so forth.

David Nobbs, the writer of the novel and the TV series, was a fervent humanist, but even he accepted that there might be something in a Christian reading: “[Reggie] was a man trying to find an individual way through a corporate world. It was implicit that he was without religious faith. He was searching for value, for moral certainty.”

This is puzzling since even Jaques’s original diagnosis of the Midlife Crisis took as its starting point Dante’s Divine Comedy: “Midway upon the journey of our life / I found myself within a forest dark / For the straightforward pathway had been lost.” Certainly a spiritual solution would have been of more use to Reggie Perrin than to have his crisis ascribed to his age, class and other demographic factors; it is clear that medical intervention was not going to work. I fully accept that the company doctor at Perrin’s office was not at the cutting edge of medical science, but this is as far as that will take you:

Doc Morrissey: Do you find you can’t finish the crossword like you used to, nasty taste in the mouth in the mornings, can’t stop thinking about sex, can’t start doing anything about sex, wake up with a sweat in the mornings, keep falling asleep during ‘”Play For Today”?

Reginald Perrin: That’s extraordinary, Doc! That’s exactly how I’ve been feeling.

Doc Morrissey: So have I. I wonder what it is?


Andrew Watts was a comedian for 12 years, during which time he performed in the UK, Ireland, Europe and New Zealand.

theAndrewWatts

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Hosias Kermode
Hosias Kermode
3 years ago

Good Lord, people! Man and woman UP! I am 72. And I have never been happier. Retirement means I have time to think and read and learn things I neglected for too long. I’ve never been so well informed about such a range of things. Retirement means I have time to campaign politically for changes that are needed. Old age means I’m a grandparent. I get to watch the miracle of life emerging, personalities forming, seeing the children of my child turn into clever, enquiring, kind and gentle people I can be so proud of. Life is made up of stages we all have to go through. There is no point in hating any of those stages. The only thing that does is make you unhappy with something you cannot change. We are all tiny threads in life’s giant tapestry. The point, for the vast majority of us, was never to become CEO of some giant corporation or Prime Minister or Oscar winner. Those people are no happier than you or me and they will all too soon be forgotten as we will. The point was to FIND a point, and through it a way to happiness. On the way you may have served the bigger purpose by giving someone a promotion, or introducing them to a partner, or just sparing a kind word, when they were in distress. The tiniest gesture of yours may have been life changing for somebody else. Life is about what you GIVE, not what you get. And giving is something you can go on doing all your life. Also if you’ve had children, they will carry your essence on into the future long after you are gone. I am a Christian and so relieved I was forced to go to Sunday school all those long years ago. It never meant anything to me in the past. I had no notion I even needed a faith. But now I realise how much time I have wasted not having one. I must admit that I don’t believe in God, or at least not in some gendered entity who sits out there listening to my woes and passing judgment. No, whatever is, exists beyond our capacity to understand or express. I have very little time for the established church either. But I do believe there is more. Christ gave two commandments only: “Love the Lord thy God with all thy heart and soul and mind. And love thy neighbour as thyself.” It’s all there. If you substitute the infinite mystery of life, with its billions to one chance that you even exist, for the word “God”, you have all you need to live happily to the end.

David Simpson
David Simpson
3 years ago

I’m now 68, and I can honestly say I’ve had a fuller richer life since my 40th birthday than I did up to then. Yes, there’s the real shock of realising you’re past the half way mark, but in many ways that simply takes the pressure off – stop trying so hard, to succeed, to impress, to acquire, and learn to really enjoy the riches of every moment. I had a very mortal thought today, that I really could die in the next instant, and all I felt was regret, that there’d be no more moments

CHARLES STANHOPE
CHARLES STANHOPE
3 years ago
Reply to  David Simpson

“O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?”*

(* John Dunne.)

Katharine Eyre
Katharine Eyre
3 years ago

Well, at 39 – life isn’t stretching out into infinity as it used to and my own demise seems like a less abstract concept than it was…it is quite sobering to think that some things are going to remain undone and that – no – maybe you won’t return to all the places you thought you might. My being in the best of health now seems slightly more surprising than it did even 3 years ago.

Thinking back to my parents’ 40th birthdays in the late 80s, I remember all the cards with slogans like “Halfway there!” and “Over the hill!”…and I don’t want to think like that. How you feel about something does have an element of choice and I’m sure that that applies to aging.

I could feel scared and depressed: women used to become more or less invisible over the age of 40. Not a thrilling prospect! Thankfully these days it’s changing. Kate Winslet’s recent appearance in The Mare of Easttown, the rave reviews that went with it, and her down to earth attitude about her looks and her body is a clear sign that we’ve moved onto a different era where middle-age means you are definitely not young, but still very much alive and putting stuff “in the bank”. I’ve got a lot left I want to do and, at this point, I feel hopeful for the future.

Last edited 3 years ago by Katharine Eyre
Chris Wheatley
Chris Wheatley
3 years ago

I am well past middle age and I have learned a valuable lesson. 40 might be middle-aged by definition but it is not middle-aged by health or enjoyment or choices in life, at least for most people.

40 is where you start to tire easily, where your body clock has got into a rhythm and it doesn’t want to change, you have probably already put on weight in the wrong places, when you go to a shopping mall you are happy to queue in the car for a parking spot close to your chosen shop, the ideas and beliefs that you have will be the beliefs for the rest of your life, etc.

So 40 is actually a good way downhill. The main thing at 40 is to stay ‘fit for life’. This does not mean going to the gym or exercising more – it means being able to walk up stairs and not getting out of breath, to be able to walk a mile or so without problems.

Ian Barton
Ian Barton
3 years ago
Reply to  Chris Wheatley

I am fortunate enough to have the time to walk about one mile per week – for every year of my age.
I suspect that most people who do something similar to this, would struggle to relate to the suggestion that they are meant to be deteriorating.

Last edited 3 years ago by Ian Barton
David J
David J
3 years ago
Reply to  Chris Wheatley

At 40? Blimey, I had six years to go before (unexpected) fatherhood, followed by many years of enthusiastic and strenuous PTA membership!
Now, if you are talking about an inch or two on your stomach, add 35 to that 40. My best advice is to lead an active, outdoor life if you can.

CHARLES STANHOPE
CHARLES STANHOPE
3 years ago
Reply to  David J

The best way to PLA * is to get an English Springer Spaniel, preferably two!
At six miles a day, every day, sun or rain , they’ll keep you going forever.

(* Prolong Active Life.)

Wulvis Perveravsson
Wulvis Perveravsson
3 years ago
Reply to  Chris Wheatley

I’m just past 40 and in better shape than most twenty-something blokes. So I guess I’m blessed partly with good genes, and partly with the combination of low-mood and vanity that drives me to do lots of exercise!
In endurance sports, many elite athletes have achieved their greatest feats in their late 30s and 40s. Mountaineering would be a particularly good example of where this has happened.

Last edited 3 years ago by Wulvis Perveravsson
Eloise Burke
Eloise Burke
3 years ago
Reply to  Chris Wheatley

I too am well past middle age, though my youth seems to have lasted longer than Chris’s. Maybe because I’m female. It’s all as he describes, except for one thing: the ideas and beliefs I had at 40 have changed immeasurably. They have sprouted, metamorphosed, grown out, evolved, transformed, and altered past recognition. I wonder that I can recognize myself,

CHARLES STANHOPE
CHARLES STANHOPE
3 years ago

In the great days of the Roman Republic the minimum age a man could serve as Consul* was 41 if of the Patrician class and 42 if of the Plebian class.

(* Effectively the CEO. Two were appointed annually.)

Jon Walmsley
Jon Walmsley
3 years ago

A midlife crisis is indeed just the shadow of the ultimate crisis one has been putting off ones entire life – death itself. You’re certainly right to link the two, and that’s why confronting death at a younger age will benefit anyone immensely when it comes to their state of mind throughout the rest of their life. Better yet; understanding that life and death are the same thing on an essential level will be the greatest release you’ll ever experience.

Ian Barton
Ian Barton
3 years ago
Reply to  Jon Walmsley

Accepting early in life that humans are basically the same as squirrels or daffodils did it for me.

Mark Preston
Mark Preston
3 years ago

Life is what you make of it regardless of your age. I didn’t run my first marathon, take up snowboarding or mountainbiking till I was in my 50s.

Albireo Double
Albireo Double
3 years ago
Reply to  Mark Preston

Quite. In my 60’s I still ride a 200 mph motorcycle and a convertible and I have become an advanced Scuba diver. I’m fitter than I was at 35, and I now get paid each month for doing whatever the hell I like. Who are these sad-sacks who think life ends at 40?

Jake C
Jake C
3 years ago

I can’t read this type of self depreciating thing anymore.
Self effacing,given up on life,miserable.

A decade a go I would of found it very amusing.there was something comforting and understood about English self depreciation and culturally safe.

Now I find it repulsive.

I am now aware too many people hate me(and us).

We need vitality and vigour and strength.

40 is still young.

I’m a a few years younger,and I found this pathetic and miserable.

Eloise Burke
Eloise Burke
3 years ago
Reply to  Jake C

You are right that 40 is still young.

Ian Barton
Ian Barton
3 years ago

I’m not convinced that the ponderings of existentialism add to the stock of happiness in many peoples lives.
Let these thoughts be someone else’s problem ….

ralph bell
ralph bell
3 years ago

Great article and made me chuckle. I agree that culture plays a big part, and with todays extended lifespans and arrested development, middle age is more often in the 50’s.

Matt Spencer
Matt Spencer
3 years ago

It is a frightening moment when you realise you’re middle aged.. I’m 45, and it was a hard light in a bathroom mirror that did it for me. I never thought that little thing would be a life-defining moment!

Katharine Eyre
Katharine Eyre
3 years ago
Reply to  Matt Spencer

Yes, it was looking at myself in the hard light of the lift in our house that did it for me. My skin looked properly aged for the first time.

Last edited 3 years ago by Katharine Eyre
Ian Barton
Ian Barton
3 years ago
Reply to  Katharine Eyre

Just wait until you have lense replacements 🙂

kathleen carr
kathleen carr
3 years ago
Reply to  Katharine Eyre

My mother , who I now realise was probably jealous of me , said enough unpleasant things about my appearance to make me feel like Quasimodo’s sister. All our family photos were destroyed but I came across one of me when I was a teenager & thought-what was she talking about I look quite pretty-but it was as though I was looking at a stranger. I now feel the same way looking at photos of myself at 40-its like another life.

CHARLES STANHOPE
CHARLES STANHOPE
3 years ago
Reply to  kathleen carr

Gosh! What a Gorgon!
I trust you gave her the ‘stick’ she so richly deserved?

Bob Bepob
Bob Bepob
3 years ago

It hit me the first time when a woman stranger I would have gladly dated called me “Sir”. Awfully polite, literally.

Last edited 3 years ago by Bob Bepob
Dr Stephen Nightingale
Dr Stephen Nightingale
3 years ago

Well there’s a lot more ‘time pressure’ in your 20s and 30s, as well as wealth anxiety. Life after retirement with an adequate pension has no time pressure at all, and the health is better, given the lack of ‘career’ stress, and given that you took care of the _other_ important investment, maintaining fitness and physical activity.

I can’t speak to life after retirement _without_ adequate funds and good health: it looks to be a depressing continuation of lifelong anxiety.

Mind you, ED is getting to be a pain in the dong.

Last edited 3 years ago by Dr Stephen Nightingale
Matt Spencer
Matt Spencer
3 years ago

I had a good dose of ED a few years ago, I feel your pain. It’ll work out, don’t panic about it. Things will perk up eventually.
I find another modern signifier of the onset of middle age is a sudden plethora of adverts for ED medication on social media, whether you need it or not. I personally find it very reassuring to know that I can buy unproven medication from plausible strangers on the internet instead of having to speak to someone with medical training. What a wondrous time to be alive.

Last edited 3 years ago by Matt Spencer
Robin Lambert
Robin Lambert
3 years ago

Love Reggie Perrin, ”Sideways” is about Mid life lechery ,Funny &Sad

Annette Kralendijk
Annette Kralendijk
3 years ago

I’m 63 with both parents still alive at 92 and 93. We have longevity genes in my family and as only those who smoked go much earlier than mid 90s. I love my 60s I’m happily retired and have grandchildren. I expect to live another 30 years easy. The question is…..do I want to?
life in your 90s is quite different. There’s dementia, physical weakness, eye problems, little hearing, the taste buds seem to be gone. And they’re not in bad shape for 90s. They have no actual disease, just old age. I’m not sure they’re unhappy, my dad is very stoic and would never complain, typical of his generation. But would I want to live this way? I guess you don’t notice the failings of your faculties as much as others do. Be grateful for every day. And if you do live a long time, remember how many people don’t get to do that, how many go far before their time.

Steve Hill
Steve Hill
3 years ago

Radio 2? I find that at 55 I feel increasingly too old to listen to radio 2 (Huey Morgan, Ken Bruce and Tony Blackburn aside) and, unless you like continual sport/news other radio options are limited (although Marc Riley and Gideon Coe have decent shows over on 6music)

kathleen carr
kathleen carr
3 years ago
Reply to  Steve Hill

Its good on Sunday-Johnny Walker then Paul O’Grady

Albireo Double
Albireo Double
3 years ago

Christ! Well that’s 15 minutes I’ll never get back.
Who needs a midlife crisis?