Sign in. It’s quick, free and it’s up to you.
An account is an optional way to support the work we do. Find out more.
“WHEN STROM THURMOND ran for president, we voted for him. We’re proud of it. And if the rest of the country had followed our lead, we wouldn’t have had all these problems over all these years.”
These remarks made at Thurmond’s 100th birthday celebration in 2002 sank the then Majority Leader of the United States Senate, Republican Trent Lott of Mississippi.
For Thurmond, who had vociferously opposed desegregation and undertook a 24-hour filibuster against the Civil Rights Act of 1957, sought the presidency as a “Dixiecrat” in 1948. Praising him so effusively more than half a century later did not pass the smell test and Lott was forced to resign from the GOP top ranks.
But the thing is that the event Lott was addressing was not held in a retirement community. Centenarian Strom Thurmond was still a sitting US Senator in 2002, having been re-elected by South Carolinians for an eighth six-year term in 1996 at the tender age of 94! This is perhaps the most extreme case; it is indisputable nonetheless that very many of the key players in American politics are of advanced years.
At the moment, notwithstanding the fact that President Donald Trump will turn 79 in a couple of weeks, Democrats probably lay claim to being the party with the oldest prominent figures. Sadly, eight of the party’s congressional membership have died in office since 2022.
Nancy Pelosi – no longer the boss in the US House of Representatives, yet a hugely influential, admired voice – is 85 and has represented her San Francisco district since 1987. In the US Senate, New Yorker Chuck Schumer is 74 and first arrived in Washington, DC, in 1981. Former President Joe Biden’s misguided quest to pursue four more years in the White House at 82 is dominating the headlines, with multiple bestselling books on the subject.
Why is this the case? It has to be said initially that some are honestly beloved by their constituents, who want them to keep going. And at one level, it is good to have experienced women and men, plenty of whom are as vigorous as they ever were, willing to continue on in public service in the current climate, which is so anti-politician. On the other hand, there is much to the ideal that there comes a time to pass the torch to the next generation.
Lamenting the statistic that the average US Senator in 2025 is 65 is not ageist sentiment. It emanates from a belief that, for a democracy to be vibrant and responsive, new faces need regularly to be brought to the table. That’s simply not happening today in America. There are several factors behind why critics increasingly label ours a gerontocracy.
First, approximately 90% of House districts are definitely either red or blue. There are precious few genuinely competitive battlegrounds. The gerrymandering, which Republicans have made an art form and in which Democrats have also been complicit, of the map across the US is extraordinary.
There are ongoing efforts to right this wrong, to remove politics from the devising of electoral areas. They have met with strenuous resistance. So when individuals gain a seat, it is very difficult to dislodge them.
Senators’ chances of lengthy political careers have improved as many states have become reliably conservative or liberal. And as Republicans and Democrats have drifted to the ideological poles, there is a relative paucity of once common “mixed ticket voting.” Ballots reflecting straight party line preferences are prevalent.
Second is the power of incumbency, which is heightened immensely by the corrosive role of the almighty buck in the US. It’s oft reported that among new congresspersons’ first tasks after being sworn in is to start raising money to dissuade potential challengers. In most instances now, rivals would be more likely to emerge from within their parties than from the other side of the aisle.
Amassing a sizeable campaign war chest, typically by cosying up to and staying in lockstep with the dominant special interests, both locally and nationally, helps ensure a congressional tenure of one’s chosen duration. The tragedy for the system is that there isn’t much cash in nuance or moderation.
Lobby groups, whether on the right or the left, have hard and fast objectives and are not tolerant of those who defy their dictates. The American Israel Public Affairs Committee (AIPAC) and the National Rifle Association (NRA) are two organisations with a track record of finishing off those they have sponsored who dare to “betray” them. Legitimate mavericks or bipartisan problem-solvers are a rare breed on Capitol Hill.
Third, most politicians have big egos. It is tough to convince them that they have to leave the stage, even when they absolutely must. President Biden’s desperate attempt to cling on in 2024 is illustrative. They can be aided and abetted in this regard by legions of people who owe them their professional standing and wealth by virtue of a connection. Ex-staffers, friends and donors frequently wind up in high places and can exert considerable leverage on behalf of a politician who has morphed into an institution and to whom they are in debt.
Fourth, and this may be the stuff of conspiracy theory, but the number of long-serving US Senate and House members who are multimillionaires is astonishing. While they are well-remunerated, they are nowhere approaching chief executive officer or managing partner territory. Justifiably, the general public has a lot of questions on this front.
There are other dynamics at work — “bringing home the bacon” is one — to be sure. It is doubtful that the Founding Fathers would approve of the current situation, though. For all of the reasons above, following decades of robustly refuting advocates for congressional term limits, I have changed my mind. I used to argue that the citizenry alone should have the capacity to fire a politician. It’s far more complex than that.
I am not a radical. But I do think 10 two-year terms in the US House or three six-year terms in the US Senate – 20 and 18 years, respectively – are more than enough time for anyone to be in politics, an unforgiving 24/7 business. They themselves would have to support this modest proposal, however. And turkeys aren’t prone to voting for Christmas.
Larry Donnelly is a Boston lawyer, a Law Lecturer at the University of Galway and a political columnist with TheJournal.ie.
To embed this post, copy the code below on your site
have your say