Boomers like me could use some firm internet boundaries

My son-in-law and I had a pretty serious argument some time ago when he suggested that no one over 65 should be allowed to vote. His rationale was simple: people over 65 are going to die soon anyway, so why should they have an oversized voice on results considering that older Americans vote in greater numbers than younger ones? Why should old people have a say in the future if they won’t be there?

I was 61 at the time, so in his perfect world I would have had one more presidential election and one mid-term election and then I would have been considered dead and politically irrelevant.

Although I was offended by my son-in-law’s suggestion, I couldn’t completely ignore his frustrations. I was reminded of a couple of dystopian ’70s movies, Logan’s Run and Soylent Green. In the former, when a person turns 30, they are put to sleep to make room for newer, better people. In the latter, a global food shortage is resolved by consuming part of the population.

At least my son-in-law didn’t suggest I be eaten – I’m sure I would be too tough to have fun anyway. His proposal, as callous and draconian as it seemed to me, nevertheless struck me as a fascinating thought experiment. At least his idea gave a new twist to the notion of voter suppression.

I want to vote until I’m dead, but not after. Unlike conspirators, I don’t think the dead are an important electoral bloc. But it’s true that a lot of near-dead coots in my age group are out to screw up the world that younger people will inherit. It’s easy to joke climate change if you aren’t around long enough to suffer the worst, if you turn out to be wrong. I suppose it is easy to try to undermine democratic norms for short-term political gain unless you watch those norms being eroded enough to become a complete fiction.

You will remember that many young people in the UK wanted to stay in the European Union and had a similar frustration as my son-in-law: you will soon be dead and your citizenship will be in dispute. But we would like to work and travel with our EU passports.

In the spirit of the generational compromise, I offer an alternative solution. Rather than not allowing old people to vote or eat them, I think the most beneficial to society would be if no one over 65 was allowed on the internet other than sending email. Given my age group (baby boomers) predilection for mass delusion, perhaps it is wisest for society to limit the content to which its suggestible mind is exposed. (It has not escaped my notice that many of the boomers reading this very column are doing so on their phones and tablets. But listen to me.)

For my part, I am ready to take part in this experiment for the benefit of society. At 63, I would have a good two years to browse the Internet and look at morally and ethically questionable material, and then I would be liberated, so to speak. I would still be able to vote (I don’t think anyone else’s voices should be suppressed), but I would have to rely on the old-fashioned information-gathering methods I grew up with. Surely this limitation alone would prolong my life and happiness.

I think it would be wise to make my proposal before the next election to the law of the country, although getting it passed by Congress could be problematic since the average age of a Congressman is 57.6 years and the average age of a Senator is 62 , good within calling distance of 65.

Still, I think the idea could find widespread bipartisan support if enough pressure from the public was put in. (That is, you, Millennials and Generation Z, if you can end your own intergenerational squabbles long enough). Senators and MPs could then leave their helpers to do the dirty work of the Internet, so to speak. Then they could get on with the really important work – hmm, my head is blank here. (I’m getting old.)

As for my colleagues, I believe that in time they would find this pleasantly nostalgic rather than humiliating. Suddenly, printed newspapers experienced a renaissance. Cinemas would be revived. If you wanted pornographic material, you’d have to honestly buy it, from a kiosk in a brown paper bag. Perhaps we would read paper books again, just as we did in our happy youth.

Best of all, we’d be spreading our delusions, vicious rumors, and gossip the old-fashioned way – one bitter and disaffected fog at a time. We might even agree on something occasionally if we meet face-to-face rather than anonymously. We’d be our own mini-society of internet-restricted but happy Luddites.

Of course, this idea has no chance of becoming law. It is inconvenient to ask the police to check ID when spying on someone with gray hair with an iPhone. And the idea is unconstitutional. But each of us can choose at any time to swap our devices for a better life. Perhaps my thought experiment inspires my generation cohort to try it out.

Robin Hemley is the author and founder of the international writers conference NonfictioNOW. His most recent book is Borderline Citizen: Dispatches From the Outskirts of Nationhood. He wrote this column for the Dallas Morning News.

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