The transformation of age markers
Laetitia@Work #85
Hi everybody,
Across history, human societies have relied on age markers to structure individual lives and collective expectations. These markers—whether puberty, adulthood, marriage, parenthood, or retirement—functioned as milestones that everyone was meant to pass at roughly the same stage of life and at the same age. They gave meaning to transitions, making clear when a child became an adult, when an adult became a parent, and when a worker became a retiree. They also offered a form of security: one could measure oneself against others, knowing that social approval or disapproval hinged on whether or not one followed the shared script.
Yet in the twenty-first century, these markers have become blurred. The digital revolution, longer life expectancy, economic upheavals, and cultural change have transformed the way societies perceive age. Expectations that once felt natural—leaving the parental home at twenty, marrying in one’s mid-twenties, becoming a parent soon after, and leaving work permanently at around sixty—have become unrealistic or undesirable for many.
This fundamental shift raises questions not only about individuals’ sense of identity but also about the institutions, including the workplace, that once relied on age-based categories. 📚 In my forthcoming book, L’atout âge. 64 clés pour faire de la diversité générationnelle une force, to be released on October 2, I explore these issues in detail, examining how companies and societies can reframe generational diversity as a strength rather than a problem. 💡👇
Age markers across cultures and history
One way to appreciate the transformation of age today is to look back at history and across cultures. Age markers are never universal. In many traditional societies, puberty functioned as the decisive threshold: rituals marked the child’s entry into the world of adults, bringing with them obligations of labour, marriage or warfare. In the industrialised West of the twentieth century, one of the most powerful age markers was retirement. To be sixty was to stand at the gate of old age, either already retired or soon to be so, with a life structured around the sharp division between work and retirement.
Cultural attitudes to age have varied too. At the turn of the twentieth century in Vienna, then part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, maturity was a form of social capital. Young men sought to appear older than they were in order to command respect. Beards, walking sticks, and other symbols of seniority were coveted accessories. As Stefan Zweig recounts in The World of Yesterday, young men often cultivated these outward signs of age to gain authority and social recognition in a society that prized experience and stability. A century later, in the Silicon Valley of the 2000s, the situation was inverted. Youth became the ultimate credential. Investors looked for founders in their twenties, not their fifties. Start-up culture fetishised energy, disruption, and a capacity to reimagine everything from scratch. Older workers found themselves concealing their age, turning to cosmetic interventions like Botox to remain employable in a culture obsessed with novelty and youthfulness.
The weakening of traditional age markers
Today, the old certainties have melted away. The stages that once defined adulthood no longer follow a predictable sequence. Leaving the parental home, once a clear rite of passage, now occurs later and more variably than before. In Europe, high housing costs mean that many young people stay with their parents well into their twenties, and some return home after divorce or financial difficulty even at thirty or forty. In 2020, a Pew Research Center study found that 52% of young adults in the U.S. were living with one or both of their parents, marking the first time since the Great Depression that a majority of this age group resided in their parents' home. What was once considered a shameful regression has now become commonplace.
Even those markers that seemed universal in the 20th century, such as acquiring a driver’s license, no longer function as they once did. In the United States, only 60 percent of 18-year-olds held a license in 2018, compared to 80 percent in 1983, reflecting changing urban lifestyles, environmental concerns, and new forms of mobility. In cities like London or Paris, young adults can spend entire lives without owning cars, challenging the association between adulthood and independent driving.
Marriage and coupledom, long assumed to be cornerstones of adulthood, have become precarious too. In France, eleven million people now live alone, and the proportion of single-person households has risen from 13 percent in 1990 to 21 percent in 2019. In the United States, 27.6 percent of households consisted of one person in 2020, compared to only 7.7 percent in 1940. These figures reveal profound cultural change: adulthood is no longer automatically equated with the stable couple. Moreover, separation and divorce are frequent at all ages, meaning that many people cycle in and out of coupledom across their lives.
Parenthood too has lost its status as an inevitable step. A 2022 IFOP survey conducted for Elle magazine found that 13% of French women aged 15 and older prefer a life without children, a significant increase from just 2% in 2006. This trend reflects a growing "childfree" movement in France, where individuals are choosing to forgo parenthood for various reasons, including personal freedom, environmental concerns, and evolving societal norms. In the United States, Pew Research Center surveys suggest that 44 percent of non-parents under 50 say they are not likely to have children, a figure that has grown over the past decade. Choosing not to be a parent has become a legitimate pathway, supported by public voices such as French journalist Bettina Zourli, who argues that women must be able to choose in full conscience whether to become mothers or not. Parenthood is no longer a shared expectation; it is a personal choice.
The same weakening applies to midlife markers. Reaching fifty once implied security—stable marriage, stable job, stable income. Today, the middle decades of life are often periods of turbulence and reinvention. Divorce rates among the over-50s have risen sharply in both Europe and North America. Career reinvention, whether voluntary or forced by economic restructuring, is also widespread. The “midlife crisis” has become a common experience of personal transformation.
👉Also read: Navigating Change: The Midlife Journey. Laetitia@Work #76
Retirement and ageing: the new realities
Perhaps the most dramatic redefinition has taken place at the boundary between work and retirement. To be sixty once meant to be at or very near retirement. Now, that expectation has been overturned.
In France, reforms to the pension system and rising life expectancy have pushed more people in their sixties into the labour force. Between 2018 and 2023, the proportion of 60- to 64-year-olds in work rose by more than six points. Thirteen percent of new retirees in 2024 combined work and pension income, illustrating how hybrid arrangements—entrepreneurship, phased retirement, or volunteer work—are becoming more common.
The US reveals similar trends. In 1985, only 10.8 percent of Americans aged 65 and older were still in the labour force. By 2024, the figure was 19.5 percent. Many of these older workers choose part-time employment: more than a third of workers over 65 are part-time, compared to just 14 percent of those in their fifties. At the same time, older Americans devote more time to leisure, spending on average seven hours a day on recreational activities, almost three hours more than those in their prime working years.
In the UK, older worker participation varies widely by region. In 2022, about 68% of 55- to 64-year-olds were employed in the South East, compared to just 57% in the North East. PwC estimates that if all regions matched the South East’s level, the country would gain 320,000 additional jobs—nearly a third of current vacancies. Yet Britain still underperforms internationally, ranking only 21st out of 38 OECD countries in PwC’s 2023 Golden Age Index. The pandemic further worsened the picture, as rising house prices and health concerns pushed many into early retirement.
Despite national differences, these developments point to a shared demographic reality. Across the OECD, the ratio of working-age adults to retirees is steadily shrinking. In 1950, there were more than seven people aged 20 to 64 for every person over 65. By 2010, the figure had dropped to four, and by 2050 it is projected to fall to just over two. In the US, the ratio is expected to decline from 4.6 to 2.5 between 2010 and 2050; in the UK, from 3.6 to 2.1. This demographic pressure makes the “retirement cliff,” in which people abruptly shift from full activity to full inactivity, increasingly obsolete. What is emerging instead is a more gradual and diverse transition between work and retirement—one that may help ease the demographic squeeze and sustain the balance a little longer.
In my book L’atout âge, I argue that these demographic transformations require societies to rethink the meaning of ageing itself. “Old age” is no longer a single, uniform stage; it is a diverse and dynamic period in which individuals combine activity, leisure, care responsibilities, and community roles in countless different ways. Increasingly, we must speak not of one “old age” but of several: the “young old,” often still active in work or civic life; the “old old,” who may shift gradually into part-time activity or more leisure; the “very old,” for whom care and support become central; and even more nuanced categories such as the “active old” or the “semi-active old.” In other words, just as childhood, adolescence, and adulthood have long been recognized as distinct phases, later life, too, is fragmenting into multiple stages, each with its own challenges, opportunities, and social roles.
Toward a redefinition of age markers
Even markers associated with family life have fragmented. Becoming a grandparent, once a near certainty for those who had children, is no longer universal. Many in their fifties and sixties today will never become grandparents. This reflects both the decline in birth rates and the rising choice among younger generations to remain childfree. As a result, the traditional picture of late adulthood as a time of grandparental responsibility has faded, creating new forms of identity and contribution for older adults.
None of this means that age has lost its importance. Age continues to shape experience, but it no longer dictates destiny. What matters is not chronological age but the intersection of personal circumstances, opportunities, and social support. A fifty-year-old who has just divorced and is searching for housing may face the same challenges as a thirty-year-old leaving the parental home. Conversely, a sixty-year-old entrepreneur may resemble a forty-year-old career changer in energy and ambition.
To adapt, societies need to adjust both their cultural expectations and their institutions. Employment, retirement, and social benefits should be tailored to individual situations rather than fixed age categories. Companies in particular must rethink how they value and integrate workers of different generations, resisting ageist stereotypes and supporting employees through transitions at any stage of life. This is a theme I develop extensively in L’atout âge, which offers practical strategies for making generational diversity a real organisational asset.
Conclusion
The weakening of traditional age markers challenges the way we think about life itself. Where once there were predictable stages and clear boundaries, there are now fluid transitions and more plural trajectories. Adulthood is no longer defined by marriage, parenthood, or leaving home at a set age. Midlife no longer guarantees stability but often brings reinvention. Retirement no longer signals withdrawal but can be a phase of new engagement. Old age is no longer synonymous with decline but can be a time of vitality and contribution.
These changes are not simply private matters; they reshape the foundations of society, from welfare systems to intergenerational relations and corporate practices. They also open up new possibilities. By releasing individuals from rigid age scripts, they create room for choice, flexibility, and innovation. Yet they also create anxieties: without clear markers, how do people know they are on the right path? How do societies maintain solidarity across generations when everyone follows a different timeline?
In L’atout âge. 64 clés pour faire de la diversité générationnelle une force, I suggest that embracing generational diversity—acknowledging the variety of pathways, the richness of experiences across ages, and the new opportunities created by longer lives—can help societies turn these challenges into strengths. Ageing remains a powerful force, but one that affects people unevenly. The gap between chronological age (the number of years lived) and biological age (how our bodies and capacities actually age) highlights profound disparities. Age still matters, yet less as a rigid sequence of milestones and more as a flexible framework that allows for multiple ways of living, working, and thriving.
📌 I’ll be at the Librairie Eyrolles (Paris) on September 29 at 6pm for the launch of my book L’atout âge.
In this book, I share keys to turn generational diversity into a strength, rethink management, and value all ages at work.
For those who will be in Paris, this will be a fantastic opportunity to chat on these themes and leave with a signed copy. Register here 👇
💡For Nouveau Départ, I wrote several new articles (in French):
🎙️ And these two podcasts (also in French):
En équilibre (with Sandra Le Guyader-Fillaudeau)
→ Subscribe to receive my future podcasts and articles directly in your inbox!
Miscellaneous
😪 The Job Market Is Hell, Annie Lowrey, The Atlantic, September 2025: “a lot of job applicants never end up in a human-to-human process. The impossibility of getting to the interview stage spurs jobless workers to submit more applications, which pushes them to rely on ChatGPT to build their résumés and respond to screening prompts. (Harris told me he does this; he used ChatGPT pretty much every day in college, and finds its writing to be more “professional” than his own.) And so the cycle continues: The surge in same-same AI-authored applications prompts employers to use robot filters to manage the flow. Everyone ends up in Tinderized job-search hell.”.