
Last week, Republican candidate Nikki Haley took shots at party opponent Donald Trump’s public gaffes. After he mistook Haley for former house speaker Nancy Pelosi and suggested that Barack Obama was still in the White House, Haley demanded that Trump — who has been notably absent from debates so far — confront her on the stage “because that’s the ultimate mental competency test for anyone running for president” (Reuters). Trump is not the only political figure being slandered for his age. Haley’s words too echo those of many right-wing pundits — such as Fox’s Tucker Carlson — who have latched onto President Biden’s similar rhetorical and physical stumbles, remarking on Fox News that “81 year old men should not be running countries, they are not strong enough, mentally or physically”
Surely Biden, at 81, and Trump, at 77, should have wrapped up their professional lives by now. However, these two are primed for a 2020 rematch. The same candidates who, four years ago, were already being discredited for their age and mental sharpness are now exhibiting more gaffes than ever. Unlike Carlson suggests, such public mishaps certainly should not be taken as a sign of utter incompetence; pressure procures mistakes, and both front-runners are under incredible daily pressure. We ought to allow results to speak for our elected officials, not their performance in front of a microphone. In 2024, though, that will be a difficult task. The prevalence of age-oriented slander points to a demographic demand that both parties need to acknowledge: Voters have more confidence in younger officials. This is not a partisan view. A CBS study found that 76 percent of Democrats and 79 percent of Republicans believe that elected officials should observe a maximum age limit. 45 percent of Americans think that limit should be 70. These convictions are especially held amongst younger generations.
Young voters, who are much more issue-oriented (social justice, climate change, humanitarian efforts, etc.) are increasingly viewing the political system as antique, stubborn and dishonest. In a Common Sense Media study, almost two-thirds of respondents say that elected officials are not reflecting the needs and demands of Generation Z (ages 12–27). Moreover, the youth turnout — which significantly helped propel Biden to the Oval Office house in 2020 — is now faced with the same option as four years ago. The beauty of our republican democracy is that those in office are constantly shifting: as elections roll around so too do new ballots. Thus, it is no surprise a Harvard study found that of those aged 18–29 who voted in 2020, less than half say they will “definitely” vote in 2024 (The Hill). This should not be read as a sign of society outgrowing political systems: young voters have always been passionate about and invested in democracy. It is, however, a sign of this widening demographic gap.
The reality of inevitable change commands that our young generations will eventually take the political reins. If those in office now want to see their legacies continued and our systems upheld, they need to bridge that demographic gap. They need to reach out and relate to younger generations and encourage their participation. They need to prop up candidates who are experienced but young; ambitious but pragmatic; candid but relatable. Candidates whose ages do not diminish their reliability and trustworthiness. Candidates who we can look at and say: “I want to have a drink with them.”