The very real danger of the ‘cashed-up boomer’ stereotype
I’m a widowed, sometimes lonely 80-year-old in the early stages of dementia — and also, apparently, a repository of untapped wealth. Many of my elderly friends are being badly mistreated by their children.
My principal preoccupation this year is elder abuse.
As a widowed, sometimes lonely 80-year-old in the early stages of dementia, I am one of the vulnerable old who are open to the possibility of personal abuse and financial exploitation.
After the death in January 2020 of my beloved wife and friend of 45 years, the artist, actor and model Lyndal Moor, I have lived alone in “Greystoke”, an 1898 terrace house in south Sydney.
I am lonely especially because our only child, Emerald, my granddaughter Ava, 8, and grandson River, 3, who reside in Los Angeles can only come to visit me once a year, for a fortnight.
But unlike many old Australians, I am lucky to have a loyal network of support, in the fellowship of Alcoholics Anonymous, and in the wider community.
My current concern about elder abuse is fundamentally because many of my elderly friends have been, or are being, badly mistreated by their children. I am also deeply concerned that, in Australia, many old people are being exploited by a number of government agencies and private organisations.
This elder abuse applies to banks and telcos, and especially to often foreign-owned “retirement villages” and nursing homes. The way that these facilities are run is often predatory – more akin to hedge funds than places of care and dignity. The need for their reformation is urgent.
Underlying, and seemingly justifying, much elderly exploitation and abuse is an often unfounded but persistent attitude that older people are a repository of untapped wealth.
Over the past few decades, the phrase “cashed-up baby boomers” has been widely bandied about, but this is a misconception. In reality, given that compulsory superannuation contributions only came about in the 1990s, many Australians born in the postwar period do not have enough super to see them through their retirements; some have almost none.
Nevertheless, their super funds are eyed enviously. Those eyes are also cast on their homes which have exponentially risen in value over the past few decades – not because of anything they have done but due to massive inflation in the Australian housing market. Many commentators have in effect blamed retirees for selfishly clinging to the homes they spent 20 years paying off and not downsizing to a flat, or a retirement village.
Paradoxically, if substantial numbers of older people did put their houses on the market, prices would fall, which none of the people who bought homes more recently want. On the other hand, the government is anxious to keep as many old people in their own homes as long as possible to avoid overloading the aged care system. In contrast, the aged care industry would prefer old people to sell their homes so they can use the proceeds to cover the cost of extremely expensive bonds for their care.
Thus, the elderly are caught in a tug of war between opposing forces, all, in different ways, either trying to get their hands on our savings, superannuation or homes.
The federal government has implemented various policies and practices to minimise pension payments to the elderly. These include means-testing pensions based on a partner’s income, deeming investments as income-producing even when no actual income is received, and factoring in unrealised capital gains on investments.
At the domestic level, there are all too many cases of children and grandchildren, sometimes very unsubtly, pressuring elderly relatives into “lending” them money.
Meanwhile, large superannuation funds have been almost criminally dilatory in paying death benefits to the families of subscribers, and paying third parties to manage the funds for massive fees.
At the domestic level, there are all too many cases of children and grandchildren, sometimes very unsubtly, pressuring elderly relatives into “lending” them money; underwriting and guaranteeing loans; even putting their homes up as collateral for investments and borrowing.
At its core, treating the assets of the elderly as a vast piggy bank has a destructive impact on both Australian society and the economy. Inheritance, or the transfer of older citizens’ assets, merely shifts wealth from one generation to the next, without contributing to the creation of new wealth.
An expectation of inheritance can be a disincentive for people to make their own way, and produce their own wealth. Whatever the baby boomers have accumulated, they did so in their own lifetimes. Most did not inherit very much from their parents who lived through two world wars and the Great Depression.
It is also important to note that the current generation of so-called “cashed-up retirees” will not live indefinitely (though their longevity may prove frustrating for both their heirs and the government). Furthermore, the nest eggs – whether real or perceived – that exist today may not exist in the future.
Australians who are now of working age should also consider that whatever practices and policies are currently applied to the elderly will someday be applied to them. This is something which many avaricious younger people do not seem to consider.
Although elder abuse does not currently apply to me, it is well and truly time for the elderly to join forces, and fight back.
At the moment, my Queensland-based buddy Ian McFadyen and I are working on a new satirical novel for release this year.
Chalk and Cheese is about two 80-year-old former radio stars, who hated each other, but who end up in the same nursing home.
As was the case with our Grafton Everest political satires, my current collaboration with McFadyen involves us talking about our book for two hours every day for at least a year. As well as providing a respite from solitude, to me this is a source of considerable enjoyment.
Elder abuse is rife in Australia, and sadly the problem is getting worse.
As a policeman friend, Andy, said to me: “Families can be so cruel to their elders. I’ve seen it in over 43 years as a cop. Funny how things change when there’s the waft of an imminent inheritance. It’s unconscionable conduct that borders on moral turpitude.”
In contrast to most Asian countries, where elders are revered and treated with great respect, in Australia we are so often discarded and our views ignored.
Ross Fitzgerald is Emeritus Professor of History and Politics at Griffith University. His latest books are a memoir Fifty Years Sober: An Alcoholic’s Journey and a boxed set of four Australian political satires, The Ascent of Everest, co-authored with Ian McFadyen.
